Dear journal,
The plane ride to Hollywood felt a lot longer than I expected. I figured it was because of my nerves not allowing me to sleep. I laid awake the entire time, not knowing what to do since I felt it was too early in the morning to text Scott. When we landed(at like noon, maybe later), I immediately felt the familiar atmosphere of California and, frankly, it didn't feel good.

—

My dad had asked if I wanted to stay in our old home. I immediately declined. That would bring back so many stupid memories, more than I already had. We were already staying in West Hollywood, right near where I had used to live. My old high school was only ten minutes away from our hotel.

I walked downstairs to search for some kind of vending machine, craving a Dr. Pepper. When I reached the lobby, I quickly searched around before I heard my name being said by some way too familiar.

"Mitch Grassi," they spoke. I felt them walking closer to me and my body shook in fear. "A face I never thought I'd see again." When I turned around, I saw his face. He looked the same, same stupid face that I "fell" for. "What the hell are you doing here?" He asks with a smirk.

"Visiting family," I respond as calm as possible and turn back towards the vending machine. I inserted the dollar into the machine, but the damn thing kept spitting it back out.

"What family?" He asks curiously.

"My dead mother," I reply, turning back to him. He raised an eyebrow quickly. "Any more questions?"

"Yeah, actually," Brian says. "You miss me?" He asks with a snarky tone. I rolled my eyes.

"Nope," I answer and turn to walk out, taking the stubborn dollar with me. When he followed me, I turned sharply. "I have a question for you. Why are you in a hotel when you have a perfectly good house?" He smirked, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket and handing it to me.

"Hosting a party and I can't do it at my place," he says. "You should join us. It'll be just like old times." I roll my eyes.

"You must think I'm stupid or something," I answer. "I'm not going to one of your parties." He simply chuckled at my response. With two swift movements, he approached me and wrapped his arm around my waist, then leaned down to my ear.

"Think about it," he whispers. I felt my body shutter slightly. When I realized what he was doing, I immediately pushed him off of me. He laughed once again and went off towards the elevators, disappearing inside of it.

I eventually made it back up to my hotel room. I shut the door with a groan and fell back against the hard, white bed. My dad walked out from the bathroom.

"Hey, kid. What took so long?" He asked. I shrugged. "I'm going to head out and talk to your mother's parents tonight. You can hang out with old friends if you want to, I'm sure you missed them." He says and walks back into the bathroom. I stared down at the paper in my hands.

—

I knocked on the room marked: 224. It was a suite that Brian had booked. When the door opened, a girl with a guy at her hip appeared with a wide smile.

"Who are you?" She asks. "I don't know you, why are you here?" She continues. Brian skipped up behind her and put a hand on her shoulders and squeezed them.

"Lay off, Shelly, he's from out of town," he says with a smile.  The girl, Shelly, wandered off back into the suite. Brian held out his hand towards me, but I only walked past him and inside the room. For such a small area, he had quite a bit of people here. There was a keg of alcohol with many people standing around it, and loud music. The suite was about three rooms and each room had about ten-fifteen people in them.

I wandered around, wondering why I even showed up. To take my mind off my mom? I don't know. I don't know anybody here except Brian, and I didn't even like him.

"Want a drink, cutie?" I heard him ask from behind me, causing me to cringe.

"Don't call me that," I answered. "I can get my own drink."

"Ahh, but you're the guest," he reminds me and grabs my hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss once. I tore my hand away. "You shouldn't have to get things yourself."

"I'll be fine," I answer and walk off again, but I knew he was right behind me. I felt his hands grab my hips. I turned around quickly and pushed his hands away. "Can you stop touching me?" I ask sharply. He smirked and walked closer, but I took a step back.

"You used to love it," he responds. My face deepened into a light shade of pink. "And you still do, don't you?" He asks.

"No, I don't," I respond. "I have a boyfriend, dumbass." He laughed.

"I've always liked that about you," he says. "Your sassiness, your fire."

"You never liked anything about me," I tell him. "You used me and made me look like a fool."

"Now, Mitchy, this is supposed to be a happy night," he encourages. "Now, let's start off the night by letting me get you a drink!" I rolled my eyes and followed him into the area with the alcohol. The smell was disgusting. Even if I wasn't here, I didn't want to drink anyway. He filled up a cup and handed it towards me.

"No thanks," I respond. "I already told you, if I wanted a drink, I'd get it."

"You used to be so much fun," he says. "What the hell happened? You're acting so lame now. I didn't know Texas changed you that much. Remember the times? With Austin, you two were so in lo-oh. Rough subject?" My face grew red again and I find myself taking the drink from him. "There you go," he encourages. When I had the cup, I quickly threw whatever drink was in it into his face and stormed into a different room.