SWEAT WAS POOLING beneath my arms by the time our car rolled to a stop on Coco's driveway, and I refused to imagine how she'd react when she found out how much I was sweating in a very comfortable, air-conditioned Porsche.

Next to me, Robin finally stopped looking at her phone and craned her neck to see through the windshield over my mom's head.

"With the amount of enthusiasm we put into this, I was expecting Coco to give us a special welcome," she said, and I snorted through my nervousness. "Like an army of people holding balloons outside or something."

"It's like you don't know her at all. You'd be lucky if you get any welcome. She'd just comment on your shoes as she lets you in, and that's it."

She gave an understanding nod, running a hand down the side of her right leg. "They are nice shoes."

Calabasas was a peaceful place to live in, and that became even more evident the moment the driver shut off the engine. The houses were quite far away from the street, each property private, and they all managed to both look similar to and different from each other. Similar in their architectural brilliance, different in their aesthetic. Perfectly manicured lawns, driveways that were too impressive for their own good, the occasional fountains sitting in front of the beautiful mansions—no one needed to tell you that its residents were some of the most affluent in the world.

Coco's white, Spanish Colonial house towered over us as we stepped out of the car, and I found it hard to believe that she actually owned this place. She bought it with money she earned, while I hovered here a year after graduating from high school, not even sure I wanted to go further with my education.

At twenty-two, my sister was already about halfway into adding the finishing touches to her empire, and I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. Sure, people could argue that I didn't need to worry about my future because it had been secured, but there was still a Brooklyn Bridge-wide gap between your family's money and your money, and I didn't think I'd feel accomplished until I started doing something that made me feel like I deserved a spot among the successful Lavignes.

The only thing I could think of on the spot that lit a spark inside me was photography. I loved taking pictures, immortalizing moments my brain would wipe off in a few years. There was something magical about it. Photos didn't age, didn't change, didn't go anywhere.

I admitted that I hadn't been too into it since everything that happened last year, but occasionally, I'd pull my camera out of the bottom drawer of my dresser and just hold it. Memorize the feel of it. Wonder how far I could go with it.

"I didn't tell you this at home, but I got Coco something." My mom was taking out her duffel bag, reflective sunglasses occupying the top half of her face in an effortlessly chic way. Her sneakers were white and spotless, standing against the shiny black of the car like the sudden sound of a siren on a quiet night, and her platinum blonde hair had been pulled up into a loose bun. "I arranged for it to get sent here tomorrow, but I don't know if she's going to like it."

"What did you get her?"

She gave me a weird smile in response, and I immediately knew that I shouldn't have asked. My mom loved giving presents, but sometimes they tended to fall on the unconventional side. On my eighteenth birthday, she'd given me an impressively wrapped human butt-shaped purse. The reason for that is still unknown. There was an entire box of unused mugs that looked like mini toilets sitting in Coco's garage. Mom had driven forty minutes just to present it to her, even making a dry joke about not forgetting to flush after "doing business." Coco didn't understand why she'd want to drink coffee out of something that looked like a toilet.

She leaned one hand against the car's exterior and placed her free one on her hip, still giving me that smile. I looked at Robin, who was amusedly watching us, then shook my head. I had better—or not—things to stress over.

"Please handle her," I said. "And if it's shaped like anything that belongs in a bathroom, I don't want to hear about it."

As I dragged my suitcase out of the car, Coco's front door opened, and she stepped out with a cameraman behind her.

I immediately felt defensive.

"Hey," my sister said in a singsong voice.

"Your hair," Robin said, awed as she took her in.

Coco had gotten a new haircut, her once long waves now straightened and cut blunt to her slender shoulders. It complemented her bone structure perfectly, just like every other hairstyle she'd tried out over the years. It was like they were all created for her.

"New era, new look, right?" she said as she came down the stairs to us.

"You look gorgeous, honey," my mom offered, still standing in the position I'd last seen her. A toilet mug flashed in my mind briefly.

"Why, thank you, momma. You look super cute today."

"Your dad bought me these sneakers." She stretched out one leg to show it off. I was pretty sure you could see her shoes from a mile away.

Coco pulled her into a hug, then Robin, and it was like she didn't even notice me standing there. I'd been quite absent from her life lately, so maybe she just got used to not having me around.

"Robin, you're so insane. You seriously put on Louboutins?" Coco held her hair back as she looked at my friend's expensive shoes.

"I'm practicing," Robin answered. "I still want that modeling contract."

"And you're so gonna get it. I mean, the fashion industry doesn't know what it's missing out on."

The driver offered to help me with my suitcase, but I turned him down with a smile, and he moved on to my mom. He was much older than me, nearly older than my mom, and I wasn't going to let someone else's dad carry my things for me just because I was a rich kid with fifty-three million Instagram followers, starring in one of the biggest reality series in the world.

"Hello to you, too, Colette," I eventually said, wanting to be the bigger person.

My sister looked at me with a flash of surprise in her eyes first, then she gasped. "Oh my God, Cleo."

"Mhm," I said with a condescending smile as she came up to me for a hug. Conveniently, she smelled like fruits.

"I'm so sorry. I hugged you in my mind when I saw you."

I gave her a soft pat on the back, not really one for affection. "It's okay. I blame the album."

She held onto my shoulders as she pulled away from me. "Exactly. You get it."

"It's hot out, let's go inside," Mom said, already halfway to the front stairs.

As we went in, Coco entwined her arm with mine and told me about all the emails she had to read and send in the past two days alone. Her manager was sick, so she was currently working from home and could only do so much alongside her mandated rest.

The first thing you'd notice when you walked into Coco's house was all the oil paintings of her in the foyer. She'd recently added one more to the collection, and it was the largest one yet, hanging above two other smaller frames and making her ceiling appear higher than it really was. Then your eyes would be drawn to the glittering chandeliers in the distance, because of course she had several chandeliers in her living room.

Our footsteps—except Coco's, because she was putting on fluffy slides—echoed against the pristine white tiles, and I felt lonely thinking about the fact that my sister lived in a house this big all by herself. I wouldn't be able to handle it; I was too used to having people around me, even though most times I ran away from them.

"So, I got off the phone with Takoda, like, thirty minutes ago." she said, making my steps falter for a moment. It happened too fast for anyone to notice, thankfully.

At the sound of his name, my mom glanced over her shoulder at us with a fond smile stretching her lips wide. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah. I wasn't sure about his plans, that's why I didn't tell you, but he said he's coming today. Something about joining the fun early and making his 2022 social debut."

"Be still, my beating heart," Mom said, dramatically placing a hand over where her heart was.

She'd always been fond of Takoda. He endured everything she got up to more than any other person, and was basically her younger best friend. Before his hiatus, they'd both gone to SoHo for two weeks. Just the two of them.

"I sent him a cute drawing last week for his birthday, and he'd sent me a voice message on Instagram, laughing at the boldness of it."

Apparently, Takoda was in touch with everyone except me. It was hard to not let it bother me, despite the fact that something kept telling me that I was better off without him.

"What exactly did you draw?" Coco inquired, already used to our mom's present-giving skills.

"I'll never tell."

"Now, that's just plain creepy. I can't share my best friend with you, Mom. Find your own."

"I heard he got a Lambo," Robin interjected as we walked into the large living room, her curtain of shiny dark hair bouncing healthily behind her.

I deposited my suitcase to the side, trying to act like their very casual conversation wasn't affecting me the way it was.

"He did get a Lambo," Coco responded. Robin was always hearing things about people, and the former was always in on which rumor was true or false. "I actually convinced him to bring it along just so I could take a picture with it." Robin giggled, as if saying, Classic Coco. "I've been dreaming about it ever since he sent me pictures. It came in blue, but he got a paint job done and now it's black."

For Takoda's twenty-first birthday last week, Coco had gone to his place in Hidden Hills about ten minutes away from here for a very exclusive party. I hadn't been invited, of course. The community he lived in was gated and manned by security, just as exclusive as his party, so unless you were invited over by a resident, you couldn't get in. My sister was his best friend, and she still gave him a twelve-hour notice before visiting, partially because of his experience with privacy violation in the past. The paparazzi was all over him once, influencing his decision to move with his mom to an area with guaranteed protection.

The little glimpses I got of the celebration disappeared from Coco's IG story after twenty-four hours. Yes, I'd watched the videos. Rewatched and re-rewatched them, even. Obsessively, too, because I didn't know what was wrong with me.

I settled into Coco's large, plush couch as Robin proceeded to tell her about chameleon car paint, and I had to remind myself not to let my mind drift too far. I was tired and stressed out, and all this thinking wasn't good for a nineteen-year-old. I had a long weekend ahead of me and needed to be in the right state of mind for it.

Coco would pick up on my nervous energy if I let it show, and I didn't trust Robin not to bring up the me liking Takoda and being nervous because I was going to share a roof with him for a whole weekend thing. She was a hopeless romantic, and she always aspired to live all her romantic fantasies through others.

There was a camera shooting us from the hallway leading to the downstairs bedrooms, and for the first time in a really long time, I pretended like I didn't notice, stretching out on the couch after grabbing one of the soft throw pillows and placing it beneath my head. A knot in my lower back seemed to loosen immediately.

I was vaguely aware of my sister and best friend's car paint talk, already zoning out, but I heard when Coco said something along the lines of, "I think he's here. I hear a car," and I nearly almost died from the sudden wave of anxiety that hit me.

I knew I was supposed to be expecting him, and earlier than I thought, too, but having him actually be here was on a whole other level. You couldn't really prepare for things like this.

I watched my sister leave the living room to check if it was really Takoda outside, waiting with bated breath for a moment, before the confirmation came.

"Robin, the Lambo's here!" she announced excitedly, then released a surprised gasp and cooed, "And he brought Lulu."

As my best friend got to her feet, saying, "Triple threat," I abruptly announced to my mom, "I'm gonna go use the bathroom real quick, then check what Coco has in her fridge. I'm kinda hungry."

Before my mom could respond or even comment on the suddenness of what I said, I was already on my way to one of the several bathrooms in this house. I was a ball of nervous energy, and I played with the hem of my top as I went, maintaining a small smile in an effort to appear as casual as the others. I could feel one of the cameras following my movements, and right when I heard Robin squeal excitedly in the distance, I took the turn that led to one of the guest rooms.

salut, les amis!

did i have to end this shortie with a baby cliffie? yes. yes, i absolutely did. this one's shorter than my usual chapters, but the arrival scene needed to be self-existent. this is just me being attentive to what the gang wants, and i hope you loved it!