As soon as Rexan stepped into the party, she spotted Riley, flaunting what could only be described as a scandalously skimpy excuse for an outfit.
Her skirt barely covered anything, leaving her toned legs completely exposed, and her halter top looked like it was one wrong move away from a wardrobe malfunction.
Her lips were painted thick with cherry-red lipstick, and she blew a bubble gum bubble with dramatic flair, shaking her hips as a group of boys circled her like vultures.
The music pounded through the walls, loud and bass-heavy, rattling the windows. Multicolored lights flashed in erratic patterns, giving the whole scene a chaotic, fever-dream quality. Rexan groaned.
"Yep, this was hell," she muttered to herself, wishing she could vanish.
Riley spotted her instantly, her sharp eyes narrowing as she strutted over with the grace of someone who thought she owned the world. Her minions trailed behind her, giggling as they passed.
"Look who wore dog shit to the party?" Riley sneered, pointing her manicured finger at Rexan's boots.
Rexan glanced down, and to her horror, there it was, a smear of dog crap. Likely from Bryan's obnoxiously massive porch.
Benny, oblivious as ever, smiled brightly at Riley. "Hi, Riley," he gushed.
Riley arched a perfectly plucked brow at him, her tone dripping with disdain. "Who are you?" she asked, not even waiting for an answer before turning back to Rexan.
"Anyway, who would even invite a loser like you here?"
As if on cue, Bryan appeared, sliding an arm around Rexan's shoulder. His triumphant smirk made her stomach churn.
"I did," he said, his tone smug as ever.
Riley's lips quivered, and for a moment, she looked as though she might actually cry. "Bryan!" she whined, her voice shrill with desperation.
Rexan glared at Bryan and silently wished she could slap that smirk off his face.
But then Riley's devastated pout turned into a glare as she noticed Rexan mouthing two very specific words:
"Suck my d*ck."
Bryan didn't notice. He pulled Rexan through the pulsating crowd, leading her to the backyard.
It was packed with his equally obnoxious friends, most of whom were sprawled on the ground or locked in a state of inebriated PDA.
"Ugh, the heck? Are they high?" Rexan asked, eyeing two couples practically devouring each other's faces.
"Yep. Want some?" Bryan asked casually, pulling a flask out of nowhere.
"Hell no!" she snapped, taking a step back.
Bryan laughed, clearly amused. "So, I came. Can I get the merchandise now?" she asked, cutting straight to the point.
Bryan raised his hand, wagging a drunken finger in her face. "Nuh-uh, not until we've danced," he said with a sly grin.
Rexan cringed, silently cursing herself for being here.
Just then, Riley's familiar heels clicked against the wooden deck, the sound sharp and deliberate.
Before Rexan could react, Riley swooped in, grabbing Bryan by the collar and kissing him fiercely, shoving Rexan to the side like she was nothing more than a piece of furniture.
"Riley, stop," Bryan groaned, pulling away. "We broke up. Accept it already."
"But I still like you, Bryan!" Riley cried, her voice breaking with forced emotion.
Rexan took the opportunity to slip away, not about to stick around for whatever mess came next.
Navigating through the maze-like hallways of the house, she kept her head down, trying to avoid any more drama.
"Has anyone seen Riley?" Bryan's voice called out from somewhere nearby, making her stomach drop.
Without thinking, she bolted into the nearest room and shut the door behind her, pressing her back against it as her breathing steadied.
But as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room, her gut twisted.
Whoever owned this room wasn't just messy; they had the vibe of someone deeply, deeply disturbed.
The walls were covered with strange newspaper clippings, and Polaroids of unknown people were pinned to a corkboard.
Some of the pictures had scribbled notes scrawled across them, while others were crossed out entirely.
An eerie glow came from a single desk lamp, illuminating the clutter of the desk: knives, scattered papers, and what looked like a blood-stained rag.
Her instincts screamed at her to leave, but her legs refused to move. She wasn't supposed to be here.
And a deep voice mumbled from a corner in the dark
"Your in the wrong place doll."