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M y phone rings, snapping me out of the best and weirdest daydream I have ever experienced.

Blowing out a breath, I answer the call and hold the phone up to my ear, already anticipating the loud squeals from my best friend. The sound immediately comes through, the high-pitched voice I know so well ringing out from the tiny speaker.

“Girl, tonight we are getting drunk!” Molly sings in her signature bubbly tone.

Yeah, just as expected, I will need a fucking hearing aid before I turn thirty at this rate. Oh, I love her!

“Can’t wait! I’m packing my bag as we speak. Do you need me to bring anything?” I ask, grabbing some clothes and stuffing them in my overnight bag while mentally checking off the items on my list.

PJs, check. Underwear, check. Toothbrush, check… Ah! Remember to pack your charger this time. Oh, and aspirin!

“Nope, I got the booze, and I will order the pizza as soon as you get your ass to my place,” she hums. I hear clinking glass over the phone as she sets out everything for our night, giving me a nervous but excited feeling for tonight.

Girls’ night with my bestie has been long overdue. Wayyy too long!

Molly never jokes around regarding alcohol, and honestly, neither do I. We have been best friends since we met at Joel’s nightclub a year ago. It was his club’s launch and truly an amazing night, although I don’t remember half of it. I blame Joel and his half-price shots.

My cousin outdid himself with the selection of themed drinks and the décor that night. His club, Hell’s Playground, has a dark, eerie vibe, but as soon as the dancefloor fills up, it becomes electric.

My cousin knows how to make people have an enjoyable time. Joel has an elusive, cocky personality, but he has always been the life of the party. It makes sense that he would open a club in the middle of one of the busiest cities.

His demeanor is always dripping with mystery, and the ladies love that.

Even Molly has had a crush on him since I introduced them at his opening.

I get why—although, to me, it’s cringy to think about…

I guess Joel is a good-looking guy, but he is my cousin, and, in my eyes, he’s like a troll with good hair.

I walk up to Molly’s front door with my bag hung over my shoulder, and she yanks it open before I have a chance to knock.

“Took you long enough!” she hisses sarcastically as she pulls me inside with an unmistakably evil smile and slams the door shut behind us.

“Woah! I’m only like ten minutes late, M. The traffic is fucking terrible on the way to your place. Tell me again why you decided to move to an apartment in the middle of the city?” I laugh while tossing my bag onto the stool beside the tiny kitchen island.

She giggles and shakes her head, strands of amber hair falling from her messy bun as she steps closer to hug me tightly.

How does her hair still look good in the messiest bun ever? She probably hasn’t brushed it in days, yet it looks amazing. She’s one of the lucky bitches who never experience bad hair days.

I watch her as she opens the fridge and grabs the ice-cold bottle of tequila while twirling a strand of my hair in my fingers.

Hair jealousy is real right now...

My hair is a chocolaty brown, and I recently bleached my face-framing layers to a white-blonde shade. It suits me; it fits my adventurous personality. I wish my job would let me dye it a crazy bright color.

“Hey, Earth to Alex! Are you listening to me?” Molly yells from the living room as she places two shot glasses on the coffee table, already filled to the brim with tequila.

“Fuck, sorry… What were you saying? I was thinking about work stuff,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck and flashing her a smile.

She rolls her eyes with an exaggerated sigh.

“Never mind. Here, drink and stop thinking about work.” She holds out the tiny glass and waits as I approach the sofa.

I plop down next to her and take the glass from her.

“Yes, ma’am,” I joke as I look into her serious eyes before lifting it and swallowing down the entirety.

A rush of warmth spreads through my body from the tequila.

We go through two more shots and then decide to move on to beers as we sink deeper into the couch.

Our laughter fills the apartment, and conversation flows like liquid from our lips.

We talk about our upcoming plans, gossip about people we know, and even laugh about some of our most embarrassing memories.

Hours tick by until it’s well past midnight.

We both have work in the morning and continuously steal glances at the clock on the wall but refuse to give in and call it a night just yet.

Molly reaches for her phone and turns on some music—a mixture of rap and alternative rock streams from the wireless speakers beside her TV.

We both laugh as we start to sing along, probably sounding like nails on a chalkboard but too drunk to care.

We simultaneously jump to our feet and start dancing around her living room, spinning in circles and singing the lyrics with so much passion.

Shit… Molly’s poor neighbors. I hope they don’t call the cops on us.

Molly looks at me with a mischievous smirk and points toward the kitchen. “I want a cocktail! Grab the bottle of vodka from the fridge. I wanna make something fancy.”

She sings as she twirls around the room, and I rush to the fridge. We laugh loudly as we mix our drinks on the coffee table like a science experiment, clinking glasses when we finish our concoction.

Molly eyes me as we both take a sip. In unison, disgust morphs our features, and I almost barf as the thick alcoholic mixture slides down my throat when I am finally able to compose myself and swallow.

Fuck, this shit tastes vile! I’m never letting Molly mix her weird, disgusting cocktails for me ever again!

We laugh as we hurry to the kitchen in search of soda— or fucking bleach —to chase down the horrid taste.

After Molly finishes her cup of cola, we make fun of each other’s ‘gross’ faces, then grab blankets off the couch and head out on Molly’s balcony, looking up at all the stars that dot the night sky. We talk about our dreams, fears, and secrets; nothing is off-limits between us at this point.

I lay my blanket down and motion for Molly to sit on the balcony floor with me. The ice-cold bottle of vodka sits between Molly’s thighs as she crosses her legs and turns to face me under the moonlight with her blanket draped over her shoulders.

“What’s your most dangerous fantasy?” Molly blurts out, and the corners of her mouth tilt into a mischievous grin. I think for a second, raking my fingers through my hair, “Getting buried alive...”

Her eyes widen as her mouth pops open in surprise.

“Uhm… what?! You want to be buried alive?” she whisper-yells, slurring her words as she unscrews the bottle’s cap and takes a large swig without breaking eye contact with me.

I huff out a breathy giggle. “You said dangerous fantasy,” I shrug, “I have always wondered what it would be like to get buried alive. What’s yours? ”

She takes another sip and hands me the bottle.

“Damn, Lexi , I knew you were twisted, but that’s some dark shit,” she laughs before clearing her throat.

“I meant sexual fantasies… I don’t fantasize about my death, you weirdo!

” she jokes and nudges my knee as I gulp down two big sips from the bottle.

“Oh, shut up. You love my crazy ass!” I tease and poke out my tongue, revealing the silver stud that hugs it perfectly.

She has been jealous of my piercing since the day I got it.

She’d have one too, but she chickened out in the chair.

She’s fine with tattoos, so seeing her freak out when she saw the piercing needle was hilarious.

“Yes, I do!” she laughs and drinks from the bottle. “Tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine,” she eggs me on, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Well, I actually had a pretty interesting daydream earlier today. You ruined it,” I tease and grab the bottle from her hand before she empties it by herself.

“What? How did I ruin your fantasy daydream? I didn’t do shit!” she scoffs.

“You called… I told you to text me when you got home,” I say as she rolls her eyes and waits for me to tell her what she so rudely interrupted in my twisted imagination.

“I was daydreaming about being kidnapped. The thought of it made me feel alive, you know… The idea that someone would snatch me from my daily life and keep me as their captive...”

Molly’s mouth is agape as I shift in my seated position, the heat from my cheeks spreading to my core as I picture the vivid dream. As soon as my attention is back on her, she cocks her head with a look of confusion.

“What?!” she slurs as she places the now-empty vodka bottle on the floor beside me. My cheeks flush brighter with a fucked-up mix of arousal and shame.

“You know, kidnapped and taken. Bound and gagged—to be used for my captor’s pleasure and not have to ask for something new like I had to with my ex.

He was too safe. Too boring. I want someone to dominate me and take full control while also indulging in my curiosities and darker kinks,” I explain, shrugging my shoulders as I take a deep breath and wait for the judgment or worse: laughter .

“Seriously?” she asks in a confused but calm tone.

“Seriously,” I brush my hair behind my ear and move my tongue side to side in my mouth. The piercing makes a satisfying ticking sound against my teeth, easing some of the awkwardness I feel in my stomach.

“Why?” she asks in a whisper. I hesitate, so she continues. “I mean, you’re not the type of person who would want to be taken away like that. You’re…different.”

“Different?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I mean, you’re the kind of person who is happy just chilling with her friends, eating pizza, and watching movies.

You’re the kind of person who’d have a steady, normal boyfriend, easy-going but strong-willed.

I can’t imagine you being held captive without putting up one hell of a fight to stop it from happening,” she says.

“So…I’m boring and stubborn?”

She laughs. “No. You’re not boring. Stubborn? Uhm, hell yeah. You just…don’t seem like the type to go looking for that kind of trouble ,” she says, fidgeting with her hands as if she feels guilty for saying it.

I smile and take her hands, “You’re right. I don’t like not being in control. But I want trouble. I want to be taken away, completely out of control, and feel the excitement and danger that comes with it. I’m tired of normal … Normal is fucking boring.”

She is quiet momentarily, then smiles and clears her throat. “Okay, my turn.”

Ugh, rude! She just brushed it off like I am fucking insane for having these fantasies. Maybe I am, but still… I can do crazy shit too! She’s not the only adventurous one.

“What is it?” I ask, pushing down the drunken annoyance at her sudden subject change from my fantasy to hers.

“I want Joel,” She confesses. Her cheeks immediately grow bright red as she waits for my reaction.

I chuckle, “Joel? Really? You still have a crush on that idiot?”

Molly rolls her eyes, “Shut up, Lexi. I know he’s not the best guy out there, and he can have any girl he wants, but something about him drives me wild.” I nod, understanding the feeling all too well. There have been a few men in my life who have made me feel that way.

“He is my cousin, so excuse my cringy expression. I’m afraid to ask, but what’s the fantasy?” I ask, hoping I don’t vomit at her confession.

Yeah, imagining my best friend fucking my cousin is not the image I want in my mind right now… Gross.

She bites her lip, “Okay, don’t judge! I want him to let me tie him up and let me have control. I want him to beg for it.”

I giggle, trying my best not to picture the vivid image that starts to form in my mind. “Hmm, kinky…okay. So, you want to fuck him once to get him out of your system, or do you want to date him?” I ask in a jokey tone.

She laughs and pushes me playfully, “Shut up; you’re just as kinky as I am. Either way… I would fuck him, but if we end up together, that’s a bonus!”

Damn, I was hoping she’d just want to get him out of her system. Although, this gives me an idea…