Siren

Chapter Four

THE NOAH IN MY BLOG IS STARING BACK AT ME. Her makeup is perfect, her chocolate brown eyes dark and endless. Not a single hair is out of place and her outfit costs more than what most 22 year old women make in three months. This Noah, is perfect.

"You're hot." Stephanie tells me, checking my reflection out from behind me. She smiles and smacks my bare shoulder with a laugh. "And I am damn good at makeup!"

"You really are," I agree.

"Okay girls, are we ready?" Tammy's heels click against the natural wood of her penthouse flat. She sticks her head in the door and I get another view of her natural sophisticated makeup and hair combination. She moves with elegance and grace even when rushing to get us moving and to the waiting limo.

Stephanie and I both nod with giant smiles and follow her out of the penthouse: young, excited and clumsy next to her sophistication. We are quite the trio. We get out to the limo and Steph pours three glasses of sparkling champagne.

"To Noah, for being exactly what Siren Magazine was looking for." I blush as we all raise our glasses. The champagne goes down smooth, an expensive bottle no doubt, and suddenly I am no longer Noah Walker: girl who worked two jobs to put herself through college. I'm Noah Walker, A-list socialite with a blog everyone is going to want to read.

The limo pulls to a stop and I didn't even realize how long we were in the limo. Minutes or hours could have passed and I wouldn't even know. Talking and laughing with Tammy and Steph is too much fun and my champagne glass refills itself.

"Alright ladies, let's enjoy the night." Tammy says. She smiles, a glint in her eye just before the driver opens the door. She steps out into a wave of flashing bulbs. Steph and I follow suit.

"Smile." Stephanie whispers before plastering on her own smile and walking to the front door.

I take a deep breath-

-Don't trip-

-Put on my best smile and head inside.

I don't know what I expected or how I thought the night was going to go, but as I walk into the nightclub it is nothing like what I imagined. It's loud, so loud I can't think. There are people everywhere and as I follow Stephanie and Tammy I try and hold my jaw off the floor. Celebrities and socialites alike are everywhere, people I never expected to meet in such a setting. The clothes are ridiculous, it's as if every single person here has their own stylist and hair dresser.

But this version of Noah is used to this. I remind myself of this and after a few passing nods and smiles from male-models I recognize, even I start to believe it.

The night passes in a blur of introductions and interrogations. It's amazing to me: a little bit of alcohol and people can't stop spilling their dirty little secrets. It turns out that one of the hottest male-models London has to offer is in fact screwing the Italian photographer famous for his female nude shoots. The, very married, action actor is having an affair with his assistant's 19 year old daughter and his wife is on bipolar medication.

By midnight I am overwhelmed. The champagne has worn off and I know too much. I head to the bathroom, hoping to freshen up.

"Who are you?" I am stopped just as I walk in, looking down at my aching feet in my heels. I pop my head up and am met by the scowl of Lizzie Reed, model rumored to be a diva but the epitome of female perfection. Her plump lips are colored in a hot pink tonight and her dress is nearly see-through except for the most vital parts of her body.

And I'm staring.

"Just fixing my makeup." I say. I try to step around her but she steps into my way again.