Simone.

I swear if I have to go through another one of these games I will kill myself.

I chug down the glass of sparking champagne down my throat.

My eyes wander around to see if I can spot a waiter with another tray for a refill. Drinking seems like the only fun I can have at this gala.

Whose idea was it to host a fundraising gala during the summer? It's not that I hold it against the season, it's just that this black dress is so tight and too warm. I should have gone shopping for a new one, but the invitation came on short notice, and I was still working on some projects, so I couldn't move.

I couldn't ask Zack to get me one, either because he left town yesterday for a workshop in Miami. God knows what he will be doing and I don't want to think about it.

If I do, I will be forced to cry. I don't want to cry, I don't want to think about him. I just want the evening to come to an end so I can go home and tuck myself into bed.

“Drinking alone, Ms. Kim?” I hear a familiar voice behind me. I chew on my lip, wondering whether to look at her or just ignore her.

Shimmering green eyes look back at me with a smug smile curling on Abby's lips.

“Are you any better?” I cock an eyebrow, scanning her dress. The theme clearly stated this to be a black-tie event. I don't think wearing a green body-hugging sexy dress passes for it. But why doesn't that surprise me?

The mere aspect of her breaking the fucking rules and not caring at all makes my heart drop to my stomach. But we are over that now; we are not friends anymore, and I haven't seen her in, like, three or five days.

The last time she showed her face to me was that night that she confronted me for having sex on the window. I guess my act was delivered perfectly to the target audience, and I can't begin to express how proud I was to hear her complain about it.

She saw me, was my thought. She saw me naked, she saw me getting fucked. Did it turn her on? Did she hate it? Was she hurt like I was hurt when I saw her with Zack's secretary?

All those questions danced in my head, and I went to bed with a smile and a pounding head. But now that I'm looking at her again, I'm finding myself thinking back to that night.

Did it turn her on?

“Oh, well for me, it's by choice,” she says and stands next to me, facing the people. “I did not peg you for a wallflower, Simone Kim.”

I shake my head, a huff leaving my lips as my eyes take her in once more. This side view of hers makes me notice the pink blush on her cheeks and the perfect red that's painted on her lips.

She is wearing an off-shoulder green satin dress with a long slit reaching right above her thigh and almost touching her groin area. I lick my lips at the site of how much skin she is exposing, but she doesn't seem to care. Her long legs her tucked into black strapped heels—--a couple of inches longer than mine.

In other words, she looks stunning. Intimidatingly so.

“Leave me alone,” I mumble and walk away. I grab a glass from a tray and wander around.

I talk to the people around me; some I only meet through others, and some I have met before. We talk about how it's important to give to charity, and I truly appreciate the context; what I don't like is people pretending they care. I'm glad this event is milking money out of people's pockets.

All year round, different activities happen around town. From bake sales to gardening, farmers markets, library days, and whatever else. The town hall has seen more of these than any other place, and this evening, they're telling us that the money that will be raised here will be used to renovate the hall for hosting another event, and some of the money will be dedicated to building an orphanage just outside of town.

The evening is going slow but well except for the fact that I'm not breathing okay in this turtle neck dress. The material is thick, and don't blame me — I thought it would be cold outside.

My feet still hurt even when my wedges are not as long as Abby's.
I'm still wandering around, my eyes, searching carefully to find Beth. She is the only one who can agree with me to ditch the gala and go home. Beth and I share an equal dislike for people who pretend to be other things.

Across the room, couples are swaying around to the classical music being played by the local orchestra band. I can spot Beth's brunette-blonde head, and I remember her short black dress with sparkling gold heels. I want to rush to her, but she is glued to someone's body.

A man.

Why am I surprised? Of course, if a man. Not everyone can be like me: wants to be with Zack but also constantly thinks about Abby's butt.

When they twirl each other around, I notice the man putting his hands back on Beth's waist the man from the hospital.

Victor?

Vermont?

Vincent!

I remember his name from when he caught me kissing Abby that night. I guess that answers my question about which sister he is involved with. Weirdly, Beth never said anything about it.

When Vincent's eyes meet mine, I turn around and head for the bathroom. I don't want to seem like a stalker.

Pee coming out of my body feels like a much-needed relief I did not realize I needed. When I step out, Abby's green eyes meet mine through the huge round mirrors stuck to the walls.

I huff. “Are you following me?”

Abby chuckles. “Get over yourself.” She turns to me, and I roll my eyes. “But say, I were. What would you do about it?”

I shake my head, cleaning my hands. I wipe them down with a towel and start putting in place invisible makeup.

“Aren't you going to say anything?” Abby presses.

I glance at her from the corner of my eye. My hands are swiftly looking through my purse searching for God knows what.

“What do you want me to say, Abby?”

“Where's Zack?”

“That's none of your business.”

“What if it was?” She studies me. “You look sad, and I know it's not in my place, bla bla bla, but are you okay?”

“Why do you care?” I'm spit.

Abby shakes her head. “I don't.”

“Good.” I start heading for the door, but she blocks my way. I can just push her aside, but when I look back into her eyes, my knees go weak.

“Are you okay?” Abby's voice is softer now, much gentle.

God she is doing that thing again. She is using that voice on me, knowing just how damn weak it makes me feel.

“Abby please,” I mutter under my breath, my brain unable to form clear words.

Abby doesn't say a word, she doesn't ask for permission when she lays a soft kiss on my cheek. “I hope you're alright.”

She turns to leave but I find myself holding onto her wrist. Her green eyes dance around, searching in mine for answers, but I don't think she will find them. There's no answer and even if there was, I wouldn't be the one to give it.

I pull her to me, finally giving in to what I've been craving to do since I saw her earlier this evening. I crack my lips and put them on hers—-hungry, needy, and yearning.

Abby doesn't waste much time to get the assignment; she pushes me against the sink bars, her hands holding onto the side of my face while her lips suck me in like she is scared I will vanish.

When the door flies open, she steps away from me like I've been bitten by a zombie and I'm waiting to turn into one. I pretend to be fixing my hair while she washes her hands.

Two women walk in, too busy talking to notice our erratic breaths and disfigured disguises. They enter the stalls, come out, clean their hands, and leave.

The moment they leave, my eyes snap to Abby. She parts her lips.

I don't know what she wants to say, but I know I shouldn't have done it.

I shouldn't have kissed Abby.

++++

How about we sleep on a little cliffhanger?

I hope you enjoyed this part!

So, I'm having a weekend thing with my lover and I won't be available much over the weekend so see you next week for updates and if I do update, I will be sure to pin it lol.

Live you.

NOMMY 🔥

Wait, did I type 'live you'

*Cringe*

I love you.