Today is the Carnival. Everyone else would be so happy and excited for tonight, but not me. I don't feel anything right now. I don't know what to feel. Last night, I was desperately hoping that Eric would kill me and end this suffering. Of course, he didn't. It's completely absurd to think that, which I realized later. I just wanted to believe that none of this was real, that Jace and I were still together. But we weren't.

As angry as I expected Eric to be, surprisingly, he was very calm and collected. He didn't question me about why I was crying or why on God's name I chose to die in front of his car. He asked if I wanted him to call a cab for me, which I declined. I guess he already understood that I would never agree with him, so instead, he offered to drop me home. Obviously, I didn't accept that either. But watching him holding the door and waiting for me to get in for longer than usual, I gave up and took his offer. Honestly, I didn't have the strength to protest. If he was kidnapping me, I would have been okay with that too. I couldn't care about anything at that moment.

When he asked me for the address, I just put it in his map. The whole way, neither of us spoke. He didn't pry about my pathetic state, nor did I question him on his sudden change of personality. Once we reached my—no, Kate's—building, it took me a moment to notice that I was already there and needed to step out of his car. The equilibrium of his impulses was astounding, considering how much he hates me. As soon as I stepped out of the car, he drove away in a flash. Maybe he still hates me, but he is good at masking it when necessary.

How would you feel living in the house of your so-called "friend" who broke your trust? Simply terrible. But I had nowhere to go at this hour of the night. I also don't have enough money to rent an apartment. I'll have to book a hotel room tomorrow. I spent the whole night bawling and yelping as the memories kept hitting me like a whiplash. Every second, every moment I had spent with Jace drowned me in a pool of agonizing pain.

I sat at the window seat and watched out the window until morning. Tears rolled down my eyes, decreasing in volume over time. My tear ducts were completely emptied. All that was left were low whimpers and sniffles.

How will I live with this truth? The guy I have madly loved for over seven years betrayed me. He didn't think twice before doing it. Was I so inconsequential to him that he trampled on my heart and made a joke of my feelings for the world to laugh at? Has he ever loved me? I bit my lip hard to hold back the scream. Has he ever felt anything for me? And since when was this going on? After I left Beaufort or before? "NO! NO! NO! You can't do this to me. NO!" I broke down in another flood of tears. "Please tell me this is just a nightmare. Please..."

After crying and sobbing for another three hours or so—I didn't even know what time it was—I remembered I was supposed to be at The Richmonds, doing last-minute checks before the big event. I can't imagine how mad Eric will be if he knows I'm not there, or maybe he already knows. Somehow, that frightening thought didn’t scare me much. Nothing matters to me anymore. All I feel is a chilling cold and an empty heart—numb to all emotions.

I dragged my dispirited and weary body toward the bed and picked up my phone. When I unlocked it, I checked the notifications: 17 missed calls from Kate, 5 missed calls from Christina. Nothing from Ryan or Eric, so they don't know yet. I took out my suitcase and placed it on the bed. I picked up all my dresses, emptied Kate's wardrobe, and dropped them on the bed. Just as I started packing my things, the doorbell rang.

I didn't bother to look through the peephole because I could tell who it was. As I opened the door, Kate threw her arms around my neck and engulfed me in a hug. My hands froze to my side, and I waited, impatiently, for her to pull away. My tears threatened to come out, but I tried my best to hold them back.

"Why aren't you answering my calls? I’ve been calling you all night. You left without even telling me. Why, Eve?" She shook me, holding my arms. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?" She shouted at me. What right does she have to yell at me like that? I can't call her my friend after what she did to me. "Why are you quiet? Say something. Why did you leave—"

Her words halted as I turned around and started walking toward my bedroom.

"Eve? What's going on with you?" She yelled, following after me. "Why aren't you talking? What is this?" She shouted in surprise when she saw all my clothes and the suitcase on the bed.

"I will leave this place in ten minutes," I finally said.

"Where are you going?" She shrieked.

I didn’t look at her and kept shoving my stuff into my suitcase one after another. "I’ve put your magazines and snacks back where they were before I moved in."

With a sudden jolt, she spun me around. I saw her hand grabbing my arm. "You're not answering my question. What's wrong with you?" She yelled again.

"Everything," I spoke in a low voice with a shrug.

"What?"

I crossed my arms and looked at her, scrutinizing if it was still the Kate who pulled me up when those mean girls were bullying me at the back of the school. "I’m wrong. I trust the wrong people. I'm an idiot who believes everyone." I bit my cheek as I was close to breaking down.

"What are you—" She gasped. "Did you—" Another gasp. "You saw the group chat. I'm so sorry, Eve. I never thought Jace would do something like that to you. I... I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what you were going through and I shouted at you." She came forward to hold my hand, but I backed away.

"What are you sorry about?" I spoke in a mocking tone. My voice was hoarse. "Quit the act, Kate. How could you do this? You meant everything to me. Why did you do this to me?" This time it was me who yelled.

She scrunched her eyebrows. "What did I do?"

I scoffed. "I know everything, Kate. So stop pretending like you didn’t know Jace was hooking up with that girl. Why did you lie to me? I trusted you so much." A sob escaped my mouth.

"No, Eve. I didn't lie to you. Do you really think I can betray you?" She inquired. After reading my silence, she let out a sigh. "I didn't. I found out yesterday. Remember when I excused myself to go to the washroom? Matt was calling me. He told me about Jace and that bitch. They hooked up at Denver’s party last night."

"Matt knew. I read Denver’s message. They had talked. It's impossible that Matt didn't know about this." Matt and Denver were like brothers. "And if Matt knew, then it’s obvious that—"

"It’s not like that. You're getting it all wrong."

"Then tell me what is right, Kate."

She raised her hands to pause me. "Look, I can explain. But please calm down first. I know what you're going through right now, but trust me, I'd never ever do that to you." Her eyes held a pleading gaze.

I took a deep breath and gave her a nod. "Fine. Say what you have to say."

She nodded. "Thanks. Last Saturday, Denver and Matt were on a video call, and he asked him about Jace and your relationship. When Matt questioned him, he said there had been rumors that Lydia—you know that red-headed girl from the mass communication department?"

I shrugged. "No."

"Anyway... there was a party at Tyler’s resort, and they were all there. Someone heard rumors that Lydia liked Jace. That was all. They were just rumors, so no one paid it much attention. And then..." she gulped. "Someone took a picture of Jace and Lydia kissing in Denver’s backyard and shared it with everyone. Eve," she held my hand, "believe me, I didn't know something like this could happen... and neither did Matt. We saw the group chat and found out. As soon as I saw it, I asked Matt to have the chat deleted, and Denver deleted it right away. But it seems you had already seen it. I should have known better... I'm sorry, Eve." She frowned.

I sniffled and sobbed. "I loved him so much. How could he—" my voice broke.

"Oh, no, please don’t cry." She pulled me into a hug and caressed my back. I held her tightly and cried on her shoulder. "Don’t waste your tears on him. That moron doesn’t deserve you. He never did."

After persuading Kate not to take me to the carnival repeatedly, she still dragged me here. She wouldn't go without me, and I had to agree for her sake. So here I am, standing at The Richmonds' Year-end Carnival. I wanted to be alone and somewhere quiet, but now I have to tolerate this blasting music and fashion parade.

My heart and mind are going through a never-ending torment, and the last thing I needed was a party. The party was on the 18th floor. People were dancing in pairs or groups, laughing and enjoying themselves, unlike me, sulking in one corner. If not for Kate, I would never have come here. This chaotic environment is making me sick.

"Why are you standing here? Parties are not for watching, but for action," a voice said. I turned to my right and saw Christina with an orange-colored drink in her glass.

"I'm fine. You go ahead," I said faintly.

She brought her face closer to me and narrowed her eyes like a scientist studying a specimen. "Holy shit!" she squeaked. "What happened to you? Your eyes, your face are swollen. Are you sick?" She placed a hand on my forehead. "A little warm. What happened?" she inquired.

"A little fever," Kate responded, giving me a stiff nod.

I shook my head. "I'm okay," I said.

"But you don't look okay. Tell me—" Christina can be really persistent sometimes.

"She is—" Kate started.

I cut her off and replied, "My boyfriend hooked up with another girl."

Christina's mouth formed an 'O'. "I'm so—"

"Please don't say that word. I've heard enough of it today," I glanced sideways.

Kate was looking at me with a dubious expression and then huffed. "I can't believe this." She crossed her arms and looked away.

"No. You can't just stand here. You need to do something," Christina said confidently.

"He lives in Beaufort. If you're telling me to hit him, it's not possible," I scoffed.

"I wasn't saying that," Christina replied. "If you should hit someone, then it's that slut. But what I'm saying is—you wore this red-hot dress for a reason, right?" She smirked knowingly. This dress was Kate's idea. She suggested I wear it, and I didn't object. She dolled me up, literally, and I let her.

"What are you implying?" Kate prodded.

Christina's smirk grew wider. "You can't be depressed over a jerk."

"Says who?" Kate murmured. I elbowed her. "Ow!"

"What I'm saying is—you should have fun. Make the guy realize what he lost, not the other way around."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What exactly are you talking about?"

She called the waiter and whispered something in his ear. Within a few seconds, the waiter returned with a tray of three glasses filled with a yellow drink.

"What's that?" I asked.

Christina handed me and Kate two glasses. "Tequila." She winked.

"I can't drink," I objected.

"Alcohol relieves pain. It will relax your mind. Come on, drink it," she insisted.

Kate and I shared glances and shrugged. I took a sip of the drink. I had never had tequila, but it tasted sweet. "It's not bad," I commented.

"You need more," Christina said. "Hey, another round here," she waved to the waiter.

I identified most of the guests whom I had sent invitations to. Christina helped me. She knew each and every human being here. I spotted Ryan, chatting with a group and a girl in a golden, shimmering dress clinging to him. Undoubtedly, he is a charmer.

"A guy with a handsome face and a good mouth. Duh! He is a playboy," Christina remarked, her gaze fixated on Ryan.

Kate chuckled. "She is right about that, though."

"I bet she is," I affirmed. I had to admit the tequila was subduing the pain, but could it make it disappear? I'm a little drunk right now—we all are. And tomorrow, when I'm sober again, reality will come crashing down on me and the suffering will resume.

Kate nudged me. "You okay? You can tell me if you want to go home," she whispered.

"No. I don't want to go home," I said reflexively. If I'm alone, I'll be thinking about Jace's betrayal. It's better to keep my mind off him.

I realized that I had not yet seen a certain someone at the party, the host of the party—Mr. Richmond. After what he saw last night—my vulnerable state—I don't know how to face him after that. My eyes searched for his silhouette and then... I spotted him, walking out of the aisle with a woman dressed in a black sheath dress with a long slit in the front. She was probably in her fifties. She laughed, and for the first time, I saw Mr. Richmond smile. Just a little stretch of his lips—a half-smile. "Who is she?" The question blurted from my mouth.

"Who?... Oh! Her. She is Sharon Blackmore. One of our angel investors. She is a socialite, philanthropist, runs a women's NGO, and is the chairwoman of Warren Enterprises. It's a huge real estate company. Filthy rich," Christina said. "And she is one of the shareholders at The Richmonds."

Impressive. "I see." Somehow, I couldn't shift my gaze from the pair. The woman seemed pretty bold and flirtatious. Her fingers trailed over Eric's black suit, at the chest part. She was leaning towards him, and her gaze was hovering over his face like a predator. For some unknown reason, I felt something twist in my stomach, and I grimaced. I have seen girls... women, eyeing him but... Sharon was a lot older.

A girl in a navy blue silk dress came towards Eric and whispered something in his ear. He said something to Sharon, and she grinned wider. She tossed her head to the side, said something to him, and the three of them walked away. Where did they go? I kept wondering.

"Hey, Matt is here. Shall I drop you home?" Kate said.

"What's the time?" My speech slurred a little.

"It's 10. And you're pretty drunk. I can't leave you here alone." Compared to me, Kate could handle her drinks pretty well.

"Um... you go ahead. I'll come with Christina," I said.

"Seriously? You both drank like maniacs. I can't trust Christina," she objected.

I stumbled. "I'll take a cab."

"Look at you. You can't even stand straight. You're coming with me. That's it." God! Can't she listen to me for once?

I groaned. "Lemme... find Chris-tina."

She looked pissed. "Wait here. I'll get her," she insisted.

"No. She must be in the... washroom. I'll find... her," I slurred.

"Are you sure?" I nodded.

Unfortunately, Christina wasn't in the washroom. With a second thought, I took the elevator to the 17th floor. I staggered towards her cabin. My vision was blurry and confusing. I turned the knob, and the door opened. Christina was standing against the wall, and Ryan was... Oh my God! They were making out in her office. "Shit!" I shrieked and quickly closed the door. Before they could realize it was me, I took a right and hid.

I didn't hear any footsteps, so I guessed they didn't notice me. They were too engrossed in their business to mind anything else. The running made me dizzy. I felt a sickening movement inside my stomach, and my throat felt tight. I rushed to the washroom and puked. My mouth tasted sour and bitter, like bile. "Ugh!" I whimpered. My head felt so light that if I stood, I would fall. I turned on the flush and tried to stand up, resting my palm on the wall.

I took slow steps towards the door, and my mind whirled. "Whoa!" I stumbled, and my head hit the wall. "Ouch!" I shrieked loudly.

The door flew open within seconds, and I looked up, holding my head in both of my hands. I slumped on the cold, white tiles and glanced up from his black shoes to his tantalizing blue eyes. Oh no! Not him again. "Are you okay?" he asked in that deep, sexy voice.

My mind was already fuzzy, and I was having double vision. No, I'm not okay. "You..." Hiccup! "..have a..." Hiccup! "..twin?" I rested my head against the wall, my eyes half-closed.

He crouched down before me, placed a finger under my chin, and made me look into his eyes. "How much did you drink?" His voice was soft and soothing. My skin felt too warm.

"Two... three... six... I don't... rem-member," I slurred. He sighed. He held my hands and tried to pull me up. "No!" I groaned. "The world is... rotating." I giggled.

"Hold on to me," he whispered and held my bare arms. His grip wasn't too tight but stable. The place where he was holding me felt like it was burning. He pulled me up slowly, and I stood up. My body shuddered, and I lost my balance. I fell on him, and his back hit the wall. A gasp escaped his mouth. "I'm so—" His scent hit my nose, and my mind went blank.

I clung to his suit and inhaled his scent. It was strong but warm. I nuzzled into his chest. "You..." I sighed. "...smell so good." My hands wandered over his torso. I could feel his hard muscles and the contours of his abs.

In a swift movement, he pushed me away from his warm body and lifted me to sit on the counter. I missed his warmth. "You're drunk," he said in a controlled tone.

My head tilted to the side, and I watched the agitation in his eyes. "Do you hate me?" I asked, the cold steel making my body squirm in discomfort.

He examined my state and shook his head. His jaw clenched tight as usual, and his expression hardened. Suddenly, the concern in his eyes was gone and replaced by a cold and frightening chill. "You should go home. I'll drop—"

Before he could finish the sentence, I interrupted him. "I don't want to." I didn't want to go back to that dark and gloomy apartment and cry alone. I didn't want to stay at that crazy party with the blaring music and screaming crowd. I wanted to be somewhere quiet. Like here. I liked his scent and his warmth. "I want to be here."

He gave an annoyed sigh. "You can't," he said sternly.

"Stop dictating to me all the time," I raised my voice at him.

His eyes widened a bit, and his grip on my arms tightened. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply as if trying to control his raging anger. "What do you want?" My gaze dropped from his tumultuous eyes to his perfect lips. His grip tightened more as if he had read my thought. "Ms. Mey—"

In a spur of the moment, I grabbed his neck, pulled him closer, and crashed my lips into his. I wanted to kiss him so desperately. I was drunk, and the kiss was sloppy. He tasted of wine, and his lips were so soft that I wanted him more. I kissed him hard and tugged his lips, looking for dominance. He was trying to back away, but I held him tightly. I licked his lips, and my fingers traced his neck. I tried to deepen the kiss, but he pulled away fiercely.

"What are you doing?" he shouted, but I wasn't scared. His lips were red because of my lipstick, and his ears were flushed. I couldn't help but smile at my achievement. This was the first time I saw him so conflicted. He does that to me all the time. A shiver ran down my spine, and I bit my lip. His gaze drifted to my lips. He swallowed, and I saw his jaw work. "You are crossing your line." His tone was calm but bone-chilling. I grabbed his shirt's collars and pulled him towards me. He grabbed both of my wrists to stop me. "This is wrong."

I smiled and reached his ear and whispered, "You started it first."

*****
To be continued...