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• t h i r t y • s e v e n •

Millie's POV:

I brushed my hair up into a ponytail with loose curls. I did some light makeup, and put on my black high-necked sleeveless tube top with a hood. I put on my army green jeans with rips in the knees, and slipped on my black leather fingerless gloves. I laced up my military chunky heeled boots, then took a glance in the mirror. My top left an inch between the end of it and the top of my jeans, so not too much skin was showing.

Even though I wasn't exactly dressing to impress, I needed a little something more. I picked up my liquid eyeliner from my makeup bag, and drew on thick wings on my eyelids. 

I'm ready.

Ding! My phone went off on the bathroom counter.

Jacob: U coming or not?

Me: On my way, Jacob.

I turned my phone off, rolling my eyes. I threw my silver crossbody purse over my left shoulder, the bag resting on my right hip. I gripped my phone tightly in my hand, grabbing my room key on the way out. I placed both items in my purse as I walked down the hallway to the elevator. I got down to the main floor, and made my way out to a cab. I hopped in, and found the ride way too short. I paid the driver, then exited the cab. I made my way to the elevator, my hand shaking as I pressed the penthouse button. 

The door opened onto a patio, and I walked out into the warm autumn air, that was just about to turn chilly in the next few days. I weaved my way through the crowd to what I suspected was some sort of stage. And there he was.

Jacob.

He stood up on the stage, throwing back shot after shot from a tray.

"Millie!" he called out drunkly as I stepped onto the platform.

"Jacob, you know you can't drink," I pleaded, gripping his forearm with two hands.

"Fuck it Millie! I'm sixteen! I can drink in Spain," he reasoned, throwing back one more shot before the waiter walked away.

"We aren't in Spain though," I said.

"I guess. Although, I am sixteen, so I can pretty much do whatever the fuck I want," he said, taking my hands lazily in his.

"Happy birthday, by the way," I said genuinely. What? I wanted him to have a good birthday. I want everyone to have good birthdays.

I hoped Owen was having a good birthday. I missed that kid.

"Thanks babe," Jacob replied, interrupting my thoughts. He leaned in, connecting out lips in a sloppy kiss, which I pulled away from when he didn't.

Gross.

"JILLIE!" some random girl yelled out.

"THEY'RE TOGETHER!" another screamed over the poundingly loud awful rap music.

"So, the rumours are true," a voice said behind us, and we turned our heads.

"Millie, this is, wait who are you again?" Jacob asked.

"Romeo Beckham, right?" I questioned, and his face lit up.

"Yeah!" he exclaimed. I had a crush on him back when I was thirteen. Didn't develop into anything though. We kind of just texted for a while.

"And yeah, we're together again," I answered his question, and he nodded.

"Congrats," he offered a smile, which I returned.

"Can you take a picture of us?" Jacob asked suddenly, offering his phone.

"Sure," Romeo said, and I wrapped my arms around Jacob's neck. He placed his hands on my hips uncomfortably, but I took my mind off of it. He kissed me tighter, and Romeo took the picture.