𝐷𝐸𝑆𝑃𝐼𝑆𝐸 ; 𝑄𝑈𝐴𝐶𝐾𝐼𝑇𝑌

18

I don't wanna leave
this bathroom stall.

I don't wanna
do anything today.

Can't we just
hang at the hotel rooms
again?

Make another stream for
all I care, I just don't wanna
go from place to place
until night falls.

Fuck, I don't wanna meet Riley.

I have this bad gut feeling
that things will go downhill
when I leave Los Angeles.

I finally leave the bathroom.

"Thank god! She's alive after all."

"Do me a favor and shut up." I say as we walk out the convenience store, now making our way back into the car. "So what're the plans for today?"

"Meet fans?" He says like it's obvious.

Well no shit. But it's not like we are gonna take pictures with fans all goddamn day. I'm talking about going out to eat possibly, visiting cool places here, or maybe—

"Oh! We've been invited to a party tonight. Content creators like us will be there."

A party?

Oh god, content creators will be there?

I'm not socially prepared for that.

I'm not prepared for anything in a matter of fact. I'm not in the mood to be at a party until 1 AM comes around, drunk and feeling wasted,
surrounded by loud blaring music that will make me go deaf the next morning.

Don't even get me started about how every party lurks with creeps.

Can't tell you how many times I had to remind drunk men what the word no means.

We should not attend. Alex doesn't even look like a party guy. He probably won't even touch a single liquor bottle.

He would just be a wallflower.

"Let's skip it."

Alex hums in confusion, thinking I would've been on board with the idea. My Instagram stories are seen of me dancing around with my friends, having a total blast. Party after party. My weeks were ongoing night-outs. He's seen them. I know he has. So I could understand why he's a bit shocked of me backing down a opportunity to be entertained all night.