Except for me, I have two left feet!
Meh. I can teach you bby. See these moves? They are always banging. ;)
I love dancing!
But my parents tell me that I’m not very good at it…
No one, my dear, is bad at dancing! :)
But I don’t drink. I’m not fun at all!
You’re super fun and you don’t need to drink to have a good time. You like dancing, right?
Good! Because I love to make people feel good!
I hope you have fun this weekend, Claire. I’m going to stay home and watch some movies— like usual!
Boo Hails! Why not come out for just one weekend? Please?
It sounds like you have a lovely time! I’m glad you just had a few drinks and not a lot. But I’m not really sure what the weekend means. Why don’t you tell me?
Me? I had a few drinks? God, I love you Hails. You always make me feel so good. :) It means time for the best parties!! I’ve even on the VIP list for The Fall downtown!!
You’re hungover? What did you do last night?
And I’m alright, I’m just a little tired from school and whatnot. I can’t believe tomorrow is Friday!
Well, Charlie came over and we had a few drinks. Then I went to see King. So, yeah. What didn’t I do last night? Ha ha. ;)
Le sigh. School. Ha ha. Totally done with that. Woot. I know right? Friday is going to be amazing! You know what the weekend means right?
This place seems so dead.
Just a little hungover is all bby. How are you today?
“Claire…” Charles mockingly whined, “You were supposed to let down your hair,” He smirked, stepping into the grand Vice household. The house reeked of girl and looked clean. He could hear boy bandish music coming from an upstairs. Damn, the last time I was in a girl’s house was… Charles thought, looking for possible pictures on the wall of an infant Claire, or possibly the Vice family’s recent trip to Costa-Paris-Vietnam, or wherever the hell their pilot father took them. He invited himself to enter the kitchen-esque room, sliding his backpack off and placing it on the counter.
“Unless we’re shooting these from the palms of our hands,” Charles joked, sliding the glass bottle of whiskey from the bag, “You’ve got to hook us up with some shots.” Getting drunk was a long-lost friend of Charles’, finally familiarizing himself with the sharp taste straight from the bottle, smacking his lips and letting the poison burn down his throat. “So, Claire, tell me,” Charles decided to intrude, taking a seat on the marble counter, looking around, “Where is Papa Vice today, and when’s he coming back?” it was common knowledge that Claire’s pilot father was never home, leaving the estate to Claire for endless nights of partying. He was simply curious as to the time left for more.
Claire rolled her eyes. “Right and I also know the name of ever bunny and bird in the forest.” Claire watched as Charles looked around her entrance way. Just about every picture looked posed and neat. Even the ones of her as a child looked as if they had come out of some catalog. It was the way her father wanted it. The pictures in her room, however, were a completely different story. They were fun and Claire’s smile was never forced. She didn’t have a picture where her and her dad looked natural. Sometimes she wished she did have one though.
He found her kitchen easily. Most people knew their way around her home. She threw enough parties. She didn’t even have to direct people to bathrooms anymore. It made being a hostess far easier. “No worries my friend, I am always prepared.” Claire rubbed her hands together before taking two chilled shot glasses from her freezer. Pushing one towards him, Claire took the bottle in her hand and poured herself a shot before downing it. The burn was always sweet to her, sort of like a fond memory and she quickly poured herself another one, wincing as heat engulfed her throat. “Dad’s escorting some celebrity to some third world country this week, flying a cast for a movie to some mountaintop next week, and being some popstar’s personal pilot for a few weeks after that. So probably not for the next month or two.” It was always like that. Him never home and Claire with a bottle in front of her face. She didn’t want to think about those things now though. She wanted to have a good time. “So,” she began before taking another shot, “where’d you tell your parents you were going tonight?”
Claire couldn’t help, but feel giddy as she drove to Kingston’s. She was a lover, not a fighter in every sense of the word. She tended to laugh off serious subjects and couldn’t handle feeling anything, but drunk, horny or happy very well. Claire felt like a royal bitch after she had slammed her computer shut last night. She wasn’t the type to regret things and she wouldn’t take back what she had said to either Lacey or Kingston because it was how she felt, but she did get where he was coming from and felt a pang of guilt inside. Taking the keys out of the ignition, Claire took the porch stairs two at a time and kicked away the hiding rock the way she always did. She stuck the key in the back pocket of her shorts before making her way to Kingston’s room. Claire opened the door and gave a half smile. “Hi. It’s me.” She pinched the back of her leg to scold herself. She sounded absolutely idiotic. Of course he knew it was her. If this was how the rest of the night would go, it was definitely going to be rough.
