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Usually, I'm not one for parties. Though if it's in a seven-figure mansion, with bottles among bottles of Chardonnay flowing freely, well then I might make an exception.
After all, who could ignore the obvious fact that Archer Levine spared no expense when it came to his annual New Year's party. From the seemingly endless amount of alcohol circulating throughout the space to the marble flooring being transformed into the ultimate dance floor. The strobe lights are a nice touch to the festivities and even added more energy to the atmosphere than the DJ who was incessantly pumping out music. All in all, it was certainly one of the most extravagant scenes I have witnessed in my life.
And from my current position on the top of the curved staircase, I could admire that extravagance better than anyone.
Don't get too distracted Sav, you're here for a reason!
With quick movements, I take out my compact mirror and do a quick inspection before heading back into the party scene. Besides a few dark strands that managed to escape my tight bun, the rest of my look was still near immaculate.
My cat eye sharp, highlight glowing and lips the perfect shade of nude. Combining that with my blood red slip dress that ended a little above mid-thigh, I must admit that all together I looked rather smashing.
Satisfied, I close my compact and put in back and my clutch. As I begin to make my way down the staircase, my eyes are greeted with an all too familiar mop of fiery red hair.
Well look what we have here.
Josh Harding standing right at the end of the staircase, just waiting to cough up my winnings it seems. I had thought for sure I would have had to find and threaten one of his cronies instead, given how they love following Archer around lost like puppies at school, but this is so much sweeter.
Three thousand dollars sweeter, to be exact.
My eyes stayed glued to his figure as I carefully made my way down the staircase, holding on to the railing as hard as I could. Even though the Jimmy Choo pumps I was sporting were quite glamorous, they had a nasty tendency of being little death traps when it came to walking downstairs.
Oh, my beautiful heels, why must you hurt me this way.
By the fourth or fifth calculated step-down I took down the stairs, Josh had already started to make his way over to the other side of the room, probably because of the petite blonde waving him over.
With a quick swear under my breath and a boost of determination, I force myself to pick up the pace.
When I finally complete the treacherous journey of making it down the stairs, the DJ announces there are only a couple more minutes left until midnight, causing a deafening cheer in response.
I pay no mind to the chaos and instead narrow my focus back in on my target. It appears that he now has blondie backed up against the wall, with one hand placed next to her head and the other resting on her waist. If it weren't for seductive smile plastered on her face, I would have already taken off my heels and uncapped my pepper spray.
Regardless of her presence, my legs begin to move towards him on their own accord. Just as I become only a few feet away from the certified douche, I collide with something as solid as a brick wall. Panic begins to fill me at the sensation of falling backward, and miraculously I'm actually able to catch myself from falling on my ass. However, I'm not able to stop the liquid from wall's drink from splashing all over my the front of my dress.
I hesitantly look down and instantly start to feel my anger brew at the sight of an ugly brown splotch. Based off of the nauseating smell the splotch is also giving off, I can definitely confirm its some type of beer.
A livid 'what the fuck' was about to leave my lips before my eyes took in the boy in front of me.
He is hot. No, hot would be a mockery of how good this boy looked, gorgeous would be more like it. His shiny dirty blonde hair was ungelled unlike many of the other boys and fell into a perfect messy style. His sky blue eyes are absolutely alluring and even hypnotizing despite the poor lighting. And dear God, that jawline looks like it could cut my finger if I tried to trace it.
I cast my eyes slightly further down only to notice his incredibly broad shoulders that are set in a way that makes him just radiate confidence. Although I bet the fact that he must be well over six feet tall helps with that as well.
"What the fuck? Are you fucking drunk or something?" he barks, running a frustrated hand through his hair.
His words barely register as I continued to analyze him. After doing years of business with these preppy asshats, I'm certain that I know of every boy that attends these ridiculously lavish parties. So who the hell is this guy?
At my silence, his beautiful face contorts from an expression of anger to annoyance. "Mute are we?" he snaps.
This, along with the worsening smell of my dress, finally gives me back my edge. "No, I'm not fucking mute you asshole! And how dare you accuse me of being drunk! I was the one who was clearly walking here, while you were clearly stumbling around with a full of liquor."
His eyes briefly light up with surprise at my words before he quickly masks it. I don't blame him, I didn't even expect myself to burst out with such ferocity.
Guess that's what happens when you mess with a girl's dress.
He takes a large step forward, making our bodies now only a few inches apart. "Listen to me you little bit-"
"No, you listen to me, because there's something you really need to understand," I interrupt, feeling my rage now spiking.
"You see this dress? It costs not one, not two, but three hundred motherfucking dollars and you just spilled your cheap ass beer all over it!" I nearly screech.
"One more minute people! Start that countdown!" I hear the DJ boom from behind me, and soon enough everyone at the party is joining in at screaming out the withering seconds.
For some reason, Asshole seems to take this as a sign that he is free to go and attempts to briskly move around me before I immediately block his path.
"Hey!" I shriek. "Where the fuck do you think you are going? You are going to pay to get this dress replaced! The silk is clearly ruined because of you!"
He lets out a scoff. "Please, just have daddy get you a new one. God knows that's how you got it in the first place, right?"
Before I can even respond, he promptly steps around me while colliding his right shoulder into mine. This time I don't catch myself before I ungracefully tumble right on my ass, causing the beer that splattered on the floor now to be on the backside of my dress and legs.
I crane my neck over my shoulder in an attempt to find Asshole again, but it's too late. With these many people packed in a mansion, it's almost too easy to hide away in the crowd.
A deep sigh escapes my lips as I turn my head back to its original target, only to see that he has unsurprisingly moved his place since my little encounter, and just like Asshole, I highly doubt I'll be able to find him again tonight.
So, with a sick feeling of utter defeat coursing through me, I turn my attention back to the huge group of teenagers screaming out the ticking numbers.
"Three! Two! One!"
Happy fucking New Year to me.