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One Hell of a Fuck-Up.

The music pounded around me, thick smoke clawing at my throat, and strobe lights burning my eyes every time they flashed.

My head felt heavy, everything around me foggy and too nonexistent for me to care about.

All I focused on were my lips loosely spread into a smile I could barely control, blinking heavily as I swayed to the music.

"Libby," her voice echoed before I felt the sharpness of her nails dig into my arms, pulling me closer to her.

I curved into her smaller frame, wrapping my arms around my best friend's neck.

"For you," Kaia said as she stuck her tongue out, flashing the small heart-shaped pill.

I leaned in, tilting my heavy head as I slid my tongue out—pressing it directly to hers.

Kaia's hands grabbed my ass as her tongue slid past my lips, transferring the pill between us.

Then she pulled away, leaning past my face into my ear.

"I want us to fuck tonight," Kaia said in my ear, her tone as blunt as usual.

This was just what we did—fuck each other when no one else around was worth the effort.

It always went unsaid the next morning, shifting back into our typical best-friend dynamic.

Aside from discussing if we could arch better or moan more attractively.

It was like practice for whenever we fucked anyone else, leaving anyone who touched us wanting more.

We usually keep up with our hook-ups, always discussing them the morning after.

"I call top," I said, my words heavy and sticking together as we swayed in sync.

Kaia chuckled, her lips still by my ear, "You had top last time—tonight's my turn," she said, gripping my ass again.

Before her hands subtly shifted down further, sliding under my obnoxiously short leopard skirt from behind.

I felt my lips breathlessly part, feeling her fingers against my underwear before my brain could catch up with it.

"We're..." I trailed off, feeling my head growing heavier and a tingly pulse between my thighs, "In public, Ki," I tried to finish my statement, my words slurred as I gripped her tighter.

"We love public," she said, reminding me of how many public places or bathrooms we had fucked in.

"You know my mom is in the middle of re-election," I nearly moaned out, feeling her fingers rub me through my underwear.

Fuck, that feels good

"Fuck her—we hate her, remember?" Kaia said in my ear, rubbing me quicker and easily making me grow wetter.

Even through my underwear.

"Yeah, we do," I breathed out, feeling so high on everything around me.

The music, the strobe lights, even the drugs themselves.

"Your grinds are sloppy," Kaia reminded me, earning a groan from me as I quickly corrected my pace, "Better," she breathed out, swaying slightly as she rested her head against my shoulder.

"Ki," I said, unconsciously turning my head.

Which happened to be at the right time, noticing a camera flash go off.

Fuck.

Kaia immediately let me go, turning to the guy who took a picture of us.

"Fucking pervert, delete that shit!" Kaia shouted, immediately nearing him.

I stumbled as I followed behind her, knowing I needed that picture deleted.

Or else it has a chance of leaking.

And that would be it.

I would be fucked.

And not in the way I like it.

"We're in a public place," he pointed out, leaning his phone away as his friend laughed like a fucking prick, "I'm free to take any pictures I want."

"Bro I bet that shit will trend on Twitter," his friend said, earning a few laughs from the man with the phone.

My eyes widened immediately, and that's when my instincts kicked in.

Drunk instincts I should add.

Because the first thing I did was grab the bottle on the nearby section table—lunging toward him and smashing it over his head.

Which immediately shattered against him, making him stumble back before he collapsed.

"Fucking bitch!" his friend yelled out, his deep voice growing over the music.

Earning more attention than we needed.

People circled around us quicker than I could process, phone flashes nearly blinding me and making me stumble into Kaia beside me.

This had all escalated so quickly.

"Oh shit," Kaia said as she glanced past the crowd, noticing security approaching us all.

"Ki Ki get his phone!" I shouted, my voice loud and heavy in my pounding ears.

Kaia immediately lunged forward, not even caring about the shattered glass on the floor as she tried to get his phone.

Meanwhile, his friend lunged towards me, causing me to instinctively punch him straight in the nose—kneeing him directly between his legs.

Those annoying self-defense lessons my mother forced me to take are suddenly a blessing.

"Fuck!" Kaia gritted as she tried to sift through the glass on the floor for his phone, shoving his limp body aside.

I couldn't tell if he was still breathing—a major red flag.

But somehow below the picture he got of us.

That felt more important—then again, this entire situation is fucked.

And there are so many phone flashes around me—I'll definitely be trending tomorrow.

My mother might just bury me herself and erase all the evidence after this.

I wish I was fucking joking.

But murder was probably the least inhumane thing Maris Fierro has done.

I jerked as soon as I felt someone grab my arms and restrain them behind my back.

And that's when I processed that it was a security guard—noticing another one reach for Kaia before she could grab the phone slung across the floor.

"Fuck this," I muttered, letting the security guard drag me out by my arms while I tried not to trip over my own feet.

One was laid clean out and the other seemed to be gripping at his balls that I kicked in.

At least they got what they deserved, fucking perverts.

But one of the many downsides to this was the cop cars waiting outside the downtown club.

And the amount of digital footage that came from this night.

Somehow I was less worried about getting booked, given my mother usually has me bailed out and the charges dropped in under thirty minutes.

"Wait until you find out who the fuck my mother is," I said, jerking away from the police officer as she shoved me into the community cell of different washed-up people.

Kaia already sat on the disgusting bench, eyeing everyone around her skeptically.

At least until she noticed me, letting out a visible breath.

"I'm so sorry, Libby, I tried to get the phone—"

"It's okay, really," I quickly assured her as I sat down on the bench beside her.

My buzz and high were long gone, feeling painfully sober under the bright fluorescent lights.

"Thank you for trying," I said, glancing down to her knees scraped from the glass, noticing her palms covered in dried blood.

"Of course," Kaia said, holding up her pinky, "I'm your ride-or-die bitch."

I smiled slightly even in these insane fucking circumstances, "And I'm yours," I said as I looped my pinky with hers, "The baddest bitch of course."

Kaia threw her head back with a bubbly laugh, "We're the baddest of bitches," she emphasized, nudging me as I laughed once with her.

At least until I noticed an officer approaching the cell, his eyes zoned in on me, "Liberty Fierro, you made bail," he said, unlocking the cell as he motioned me up.

I naturally glanced over to Kaia, not wanting to leave her behind.

But she quickly waved me off, "You go on—just come the fuck back for me," she told me, nudging me away with her usual smile.

I nodded almost hesitantly, "I'll have my mother handle it," I determined, wanting Kaia's charges dropped too.

"Mommy always does it best," Kaia said, flashing me a smile.

I rolled my eyes as I walked toward the opening in the large cell, "You're not fucking my mom, Ki," I reminded her for what felt like the hundredth time.

Kaia dramatically sighed, "Oh come on—she'd love to bail me out after she sees what I can do on my knees," she tried to negotiate.

"You're a whore," I jokingly said, naturally making the officer's brows raise as he closed the cell behind me.

Meanwhile, my best friend laughed, "The biggest and best baby," she called out as I flicked her off, walking with the officer out to the main part of the station.

They gave me all my belongings back on the way through, letting me pass through the controlled double doors that unlocked with a loud buzz after the officer scanned his card.

And there stood two men and one woman in crisp black suits with annoyingly straight postures.

Their earpieces and serious expressions immediately clued me in on who sent them.

My mother is always steps ahead.

"Miss Fierro," the brunette man spoke, nodding his head once, "We have clear instructions to escort you to your apartment."

I lazily raised my brows, "It's really fucking messy, but be my guest," I said, recalling how I quite literally tornado through my room as I got ready.

My double bathroom sink is somehow clattered with hair and makeup products and then there's clothes and heels thrown everywhere.

I always have to clean it up in the morning—after nursing my hangover.

"Your mother told us to inform you that she'll be flying in tomorrow morning," the blonde man said.

My brows quickly raised, feeling my stomach growing unbelievably hollow.

Fuck.

Fuck, oh my god.

If she's flying in to deal with this herself, I'm one hundred percent fucked.

I mean I already do enough for her.

Juggling her expectations and school is exhausting enough.

I'm only one semester away from graduating with my bachelor's degree, and classes start next week—peak January, when it's cold and miserable, but for once, I'm actually prepared.

Still, she never seems to notice.

No "thank you," no acknowledgment.

She never acknowledges me.

The least she could do is appreciate the fact that I've made it this far after how royally fucked up she's left me.

But no, my life is just a reflection of her career.

A stain on her image.

I let out a deep sigh as I slid into the backseat of the SUV, knowing that no argument would ever be enough.

And no point I make will ever contribute anything.

She always has to be right.

And maybe she is this one time.

Maybe I did fuck up really badly—and my digital footprint might just be fucked too.

I still blame it on her.

Isn't it always the parent's fault?