gangsta | joker

| just live a little |

"Don't be such a pus, V," Bianca exclaimed, rummaging through my walk-in closet probably trying to find me sluttiest outfit to wear tonight. "Come on! You're always spending the weekend studying, you're eighteen now and your father is one of the richest men in Gotham, you can practically do anything you want and get away with it!"

I rolled my eyes at my brunette best friend, throwing myself back onto my ivory and cream satin sheets.

"Bianca, you know how my parents are." And overprotective was that. Wherever I go there is always someone just a few feet away from me, watching not only my move but also everyone around me. Quoted by my mother, "I love Gotham, oh you know I do! But there are a lot of nut jobs out there and you don't know what someone would do if they got there hands on ya'!" She would say to five year old me when I first got my own bodyguards and was curious as to why. Since I was born I've had a silver spoon in my mouth--from the most loving nannies to the smartest teachers, and also the biggest security. For generations my father's family has ran the best investment bank in Gotham City--Martin & Co. Bank; and my mother has her own and prestigious law firm, performing legal services to notable people such as Bruce Wayne and even the mayor. Being a Martin meant you not only have to have the best, you have to be the best and that was just what I plan on accomplishing.

"We're just going to go out and go dancing, what's the craziest thing that could happen?" B said, coming out of my closet with the skimpiest black dress. "And you definitely have to wear this tonight!"

I looked her direction and watched her dance rather provocatively as she held the dress up to her slim frame. "Oh my gosh! You know my father will never let me leave this house with that on!"

"That's why you're gonna pack it up in an over night bag, say your sleeping over my place and change when we get in the car, duh."

I laugh as she says this like its the most obvious/easiest thing to do. When we were younger, Bianca was always the bad one. From putting glue in the mean girls milk boxes in elementary school to ditching class and making out with boys under the bleachers, B has always been a rebel and never listened to her prominent parents unlike me.

"Veronica," She groaned, walking over to the king bed and taking a seat. She placed her French manicured hand on my thigh and looked me deeply in my icy eyes to say, "Just live a little."

|

"I can't believe you convinced my parents not to let Z come along!" I stated, sitting in the back of Bianca's black SUV referring to my head security. No matter where I went my mother and father always made sure that either Z or one of his guys watched over me. Even if I was sleeping over a friends, someone had to at least take me to and from their house; but this time no.

"All I did was lie Veronica, maybe you should try it sometime," She laughed, staring out the windshield into downtown Gotham. "Oh! Stop right here on the right, Rick!" She instructed her driver and within seconds we were pulled up on the side of Gotham's trendiest nightclub--Iceberg Lounge.

"Bianca what are we doing here?" I looked over at her while she stared out the window, dazed by all the flashy lights that danced off the venue.

"I said we're going dancing, so let's go!" She proclaimed before jumping out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind her.

"Bi-No! Wait!" I shouted getting out of the backseat, drivers side trying to stop her but luckily the bouncer had already done so.

"You have to get in the back of the line lady," I hear a tall, bulky dark man dressed in all black tell Bianca as I caught up to her.

"Do you know who we are?" Bianca states, arms folded on her chest with wide eyes. She flips her dark to the side before continuing, "Our daddies are one of the most richest men in Gotham!"

"That's your daddy sweetheart not you, so get in the back of the line."

"Ugh!" Bianca grunted before digging in her golden clutch and retrieving a rubber band wad of $100 bills, "Will this help?"

Quickly snatching the cash from her hands and counting the money, he nods, "Go right ahead ladies."

"Why thank you!" Bianca scoffs, taking hold of my hand and pushing past the 6'3 man.

The deafening music with obscene lyrics and boosting bass immediately hits my diamond ears, stepping in.

Walking through the club with my heart pounding out my chest as I squeezed the life out of my psychotic best friend's hand, I couldn't help but feel a wave of nervousness wash over me. I've never experienced anything like this, the closest being one of my parents fancy events with extravagant gowns, champagne, a live band or maybe orchestra playing on a stage--but it still didn't meet up to this. People were dancing on one another very sexually with bottles of alcohol in their hands, the drench of cigarettes filled the air mixed with marijuana.

Bianca led us right to the middle of the dance floor and began dancing. I had no idea what to do, but stare at everyone around me.

"Veronica Lynn Martin! Dance right now!" Bianca instructed yelling, hips swaying to the beat.

"I think I'm going to go sit-," I said into her ear, but before I could finish she held her right index finger up directing for me to wait. She turns around literally for five seconds and reappears with two short glasses filled with brown liquor.

"Drink this!" She states and then downs her's like a pro.

"I don't know, Bianca!" I yell over the loud music.

"Come on! Your parents aren't here, you have no security! You are free to do whatever the hell you want! Just live a little!"

And with that the shot glass touched my red painted lips, and the brown drink burned as it went down my throat. I immediately began coughing while a warm sensation filled my body. I didn't know if I regretted having my first alcoholic beverage, but Bianca was right. I lived eighteen years with people watching my every move almost always making decisions for me, it is time for me to live and be my own person.

"There you go, V!" Bianca smiles as I begin to slowly gain rhythm to the music.

Almost an hour later with over fifteen drinks in my system, Bianca and I have yet to leave the dance floor. One by one men would come over and dance with us and buy us more drinks, all eyes were on us the entire night and it was the best feeling ever.

"V," Bianca alcoholic breathe met my ear, "Look up at the balcony."

Following her instructions, I looked above us to meet eyes with him...