TRIGGER WARNING:
Drug abuse

Before we begin this chapter, I want to press that I am strongly against drug abuse, drug trafficking and those who profit from human misery.

This event can happen anywhere. The only reason why I wrote it in Paris is because of the plot of this story -- any similarity to actual events is purely coincidental. I hope that I don't offend anyone. Paris will always be my dream vacation destination.

My eyes widen, my jaw dropping as I step into the party, which is held in one of the biggest hotel suites I've ever seen. Even though the light is dimmed, I have an idea how spacious this place is, filled with many people who are mostly drinking, laughing and dirty dancing.

Through the tall windows, I can see the entire city as well as the Eiffel Tower with its lights.

My heart thumps wildly as uneasiness builds up inside me. I don't think that I should be here right now.

"Gosh, it will be such a hassle to find the birthday girl." Annabelle chuckles beside me. "I just hope that she isn't getting railed in one of the rooms."

My heart skips a beat as I hear that. As far as I remember, Lenora's image is the opposite of what I'm seeing now -- a birthday party with plenty of cupcakes, popcorns, food fights and a few kids running around seems to suit her better.

I've never thought that she would be this wild, but then again, I'm not that close to her. Mom might know her better. Oh my, that girl loves my Mom so much.

That's why I should just congratulate her quickly before getting out of this place. Geez, my driver must be wondering where the hell I am, but I can't tell him now because the information will no doubt reach Dad's ears in no time. 

"Let's sit down at the bar while we wait for Annabelle to do her job, shall we?" Michelle winks, dragging me to sit on one of the stools at the bar, while her twin sister walks further through the crowd, searching for Lenora.

And just like that, I'm forced to sit down. A loud gasp escapes from my lips as I catch sight of a couple having rough sex against the wall next to the bar.

Instantly, I feel nauseous. I feel like vomiting.

"One sex on the beach for me, please," Michelle chirps at the bartender before turning her head to look at me. "What would you like to drink, Luna?"

I shake my head -- I don't want to take any drink from this place. But considering how nauseous I am right now, a glass of water might be a good idea.

"Mineral water, please," I rasp.

Michelle looks at me with a lost expression before bursting out laughing. She sighs before telling the bartender, "One Coke for her, please."

It's a different drink, but at least it's non-alcoholic. I have no one around me that I can fully trust right now if something happens to me.

I just wanted to escape Max, and look where I am now.

Goosebumps appear on my skin as I feel the air getting colder. A horrible feeling stirs inside me. The blasting music and people's laughter echo in my ears, while I can still hear the moans of the girl getting railed against the wall next to the bar.

"You look pale," Michelle says as the bartender places our drinks, but her voice doesn't sound like she's genuinely concerned. "Let's move to the lounge where you can lay down and relax."

She stands up and gestures for me to follow her. The moment she grabs my drink, I stop her hand.

"I'll bring it myself," I say, and I can tell from the look on her face that she's offended.

"Okay, chill." She rolls her eyes. "I was just trying to help."

I follow her as she leads the way through the crowd. "Can I just see Lenora?" The loud music forces me to shout at her so that she can hear me.

But I don't think that she can, because she doesn't answer me.

I wonder how she can navigate our way so easily, like she owns the place. It seems like she's been in this hotel suite before.

We enter a door leading to a lounge. This room feels small, compared to the main area. My eyes travel around the surrounding, only to find that the people here don't even notice me.

They seem to be lost in their own world -- drinking, sleeping, some of them staring at nothing in particular.

Michelle drags me to sit at a corner where two guys are already sitting. One of them with black hair, wearing a polo shirt, seems to be the only one who notices me. "Look who we have here. Luna Klein." He scans me from head to toe before a smirk creeps on his lips, and I don't like the look he gives me.

I place my drink on the table and take out my phone from my clutch bag. Then it suddenly rings, startling me.

My eyes widen as I see my brother's name on the screen. Aiden is calling me.

I swallow, waiting for the call to stop. Once it does, a few texts pop up.

Aiden: Where are you? I called your driver. He told me the fashion show was over but you're nowhere in sight.

Aiden: Pick up the damn call.

Aiden: You made me worried sick.

I can't breathe. He knows. Oh, God, what should I do? He's going to yell at me.

"You wanna dance?" Michelle asks, and my mouth hangs open as I snap my head toward her, her eyebrows raised at me. "It seems like you need to let go of whatever it is that's bothering you." She smirks. "You need to loosen up and have fun."

Before I know it, she drags me out of the room and toward the dance floor. I hate the fact that I'm not resisting, because my mind is too clogged up with how I should face Aiden.

I'm not ready to talk to him now.

Once we're on the dance floor occupied with other people dancing the night away, Michelle replicates the iconic Single Ladies dance, and I automatically laugh, watching how she expertly moves with so much energy.

I wish I could be as carefree as her. My mind is still worrying about so many things. For God's sake, Luna, would you stop worrying even just for a second?

Michelle pulls my hands to dance with her, and I have no choice but to do so. Small giggles leave my lips as we dance together. She smirks before flipping her hair and swaying her hips against my body, and I move synchronically, feeling the music.

Damn. It feels so good to forget the world for a while. Is this how you feel when you have girlfriends that you can have fun with? I've never got the chance to go clubbing back home.

Everything feels good until I start to feel suffocated by how many bodies are moving around us. I'm sweating, and my throat feels dry.

"I'm going back to the lounge," I yell at Michelle -- the music is too loud that I have to do that.

But Michelle is already occupied with a guy who pulls her to dance with him, and so I sigh, walking away.

Once I step back into the separate lounge, I stride to my table, grab my drink and take a gulp of it. To my surprise, it tastes funny, unlike the taste of Coke I'm so familiar with. I almost spit it in disgust. I cough, and the black-haired guy who has been here for a while pats my back.

"Easy." He chuckles before aiming to caress my arm in an attempt to comfort me, but I snap his hand off. "Drink slowly."

I suddenly feel my pulse rate increase and that I'm sweating even more. Now it's not only my drink that tastes funny, but I also feel funny. I feel my muscles tense and my teeth clench.

Taking a deep breath, I settle on the couch.

I lay back on the couch, squinting at the wall in front of me, but my vision blurs with every minute passing by.

My own breathing sounds louder in my ears as the other voices around me start to fade out, and I rack my brain to figure out what is happening.

I think I forgot one important rule for going to a party, but I can't remember what it is.

Wait, my brain is not functioning properly.

"How did the Coke taste?" the guy whispers close to my ear, making me frown.

"I don't know." My voice sounds so weak as I try to compose myself. The way my heart is racing inside my chest is crazy -- I feel like I just ran a marathon. It won't calm down, and I wonder what causes my heart rate to elevate so quickly. "Coke supposed to taste no different."

The guy chuckles again. "I'm not talking about that soda drink. I'm talking about the other Coke. The cool one."

My brows furrow as I stare at him, dumbfounded. He just plasters a small smirk on his face.

Coke? What Coke is he talking about? The cool one? Is he drugged or what?

I hold my breath as the realization hits me like a ton of bricks.

Coke...

Cocaine?

Sudden fear engulfs me, and slowly, I scan the other people in the room, my chest heaving up and down. I've been sensing a strange atmosphere in this room, and now my eyes widen as I begin to understand why most of them don't pay any attention to everything around them, like they're lost in their own world.

They're not drunk. They're not sleeping. They are...

Some of them have flushed skin, sweating excessively like what happens to me now.

"Are you feeling hot?" the guy smiles, mischief in his eyes. "I've put some Ice on your Coke. Do you want some more?"

My lips tremble as I stare at him.

"Don't cry, hon," he whispers. "I'll make you feel better. Do you want more Ice?"

"Where's Lenora?" I ignore his question. "This is her birthday party, right?" I'm so scared to say this out loud, because somehow, I know that his answer may make my world crumble.

The guy laughs, throwing me a pitiful look. "This is no Lenora's party. No one is having a birthday." His sentence makes me feel like dying, but then he corrects, "It can be your birthday, though. Do you want to be born again? I'll put some more Ice, no?"

"Ice?" I stutter.

"Yeah, Ice." He nods. "You know, Bennies. Black beauties. Ring a bell?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." My voice comes out so shaky, I'm surprised that I still can speak.

My head snaps violently the moment I hear someone in the room snort something -- it's a powder. Sitting beside him is a girl who smokes, but it doesn't look like a cigarette.

With a shaking hand, I grab my phone out of my clutch bag. There, displayed on the screen are two missed calls from Aiden, and one from Max.

In the midst of wanting to just run out of this place although my legs aren't even strong enough to move right now, Max's name pops up on the screen.

Grabbing my clutch bag, I step away from the couch, leaning against the wall to support myself as I trudge to the door.

"Hey," Max's voice echoes in my ear the moment I pick up the call, and I feel like bursting into tears.

My head is spinning. I don't even know where I'm heading to, my vision still blurred.

"Max," I choke, and the call turns silent the moment he hears me crying. It's either that, or he might not be able to hear me at all. It's so loud in here.

"What happened?" His voice is filled with urgency. "Where are you? And what's with that loud music in the background?"

I take a deep breath and stop walking for a while, throwing my head back against the wall, closing my eyes. My hand holding the clutch bag is still shaking -- I don't think that I can hold it anymore.

But the phone I'm holding with my other hand is more important, so should I just drop the clutch? No, my identity is there.

"I..." I can't form the words. I might be speaking nonsense. "Don't." I breathe. "Suite." My sentence doesn't even make any sense. "Drink." I want to say 'drugs', but what comes out of my mouth is different.

"Are you drunk?" Max sounds even more alert, panic consuming him. "God, Luna, what the fuck--"

"You want some Molly?" a guy's voice booms, and I turn my head. Someone has just entered this room, a big smirk on his face as he approaches his friend sitting at one of the tables.

I don't know whether Max can hear him or not, but judging by how he becomes dead silent in an instant, he hears it.

Molly. Molly. Molly.

"Jesus Christ," Max's voice breaks.

I finally break down, slumping against the wall. I'm now sitting on the floor, hugging my trembling knees.

"Don't cry," he rasps. "Don't cry, Luna. Please, please." His voice is shaking too, and that makes me cry even harder. "I need you to be with me now. I need you to focus on my voice. Don't think of anything else, okay?"

Holding back my sob, I nod, even though he can't even see me doing it.

"I don't know how you got there, but I'm going to find you." His voice turns deadly and firm.

Even though he says that, I don't even know how I am going to survive. I can't even see anything beyond five meters radius. God knows what would happen to me while waiting for him.

"Can you still see the screen on your phone?" he asks.

"Yes," comes my weak voice.

"I want you to hit that location button and send it to me."

I don't even know why I haven't died yet with how hard my heart is beating. Besides the adrenaline rush, the effect of the drug makes it even worse.

"It's okay," Max whispers. "I'll wait. Do it slowly. No one is going to stop you. You're safe." I can tell from how his voice wavers that he is just as scared as I am.

The possibility that I won't be able to follow this simple step frightens him.

My hand is shaking so hard while I'm trying to get back to his message. I can't do it.

But Max is here on the phone. He's here with me. He's waiting for me.

I let out a soft cry as I finally press the button that might be able to save me from all this madness.

Water. Water. Water. I chant the word in my heart, not knowing why I even think of it. I drop my phone but immediately pick it up before crawling on the floor.

I stop when my head spins, and I can't help but lie down on the cold ground.

"You can't sleep here." Someone's chuckle makes me shudder -- it's the same guy who has drugged me.

And I can't do anything when he picks me up, carrying me in his arms.