Owen kisses me.

My mind is too slurry to even realize it the first two seconds. When I do realize this very definite fact, my first thought is that this guy is a pretty good kisser. The few boys I've kissed were nothing memorable.

But then I think about how this is only happening because he has a bet with Blake that he can get me to confess my love for him or something. He's using you, Amber, my voice of reason says. The drinking game. The laughter. The dancing. It's all part of his plan.

Even while drunk, my voice of reason is still making sense.

I pull away.

"I'm not stupid," I whisper.

For a moment I almost believe the guilty look Owen has, but then I remind myself why he's even paying me attention in the first place. 

"Well, that confirms the fake boyfriend," I hear someone say.

I turn to find Blake standing at the end of the hallway. He's in his usual leather jacket and black jeans. Male-dominance is leaking from him like he's a boyfriend that just caught his girlfriend cheating on him. 

Considering that the only time we even came close to a 'date' was when he kidnapped me, I'd say he's being ridiculous.

Owen turns back to me with disbelief etched onto his face, but I don't feel guilty for lying about having a boyfriend. I just feel ashamed that they've found out. Stupid smart people!

"You can't be here! This is the East-side, Bowmen," Owen over here slurs when he looks back at Blake. Looks like someone is finally losing the drinking deal. (Even though I'm not all too stable myself.)

"It'll all be my side soon enough," Blake shoots back and starts walking towards us. They don't know that I know about the bet so Blake's sentence is telling me a lot more than he thinks.

Ha! Like I'd fall for someone like him!

"You want another fight; is that it?" Owen asks. He steps in front of me and that gets Blake to walk over even faster.

"Get. Away. From. Amber."

"You have no say over Goldy on this side of town," Owen growls.

I'm about to yell that none of them have a say over me no matter what side we're on, but then Owen takes two wobbly steps towards Blake and attempts a punch. I almost feel sorry for Owen's pride when Blake easily dodges the punch and hits Owen in the face. Owen goes swaggering and I'm left standing there.

"You're coming with me, Darling," Blake says before grabbing me and swinging me over his shoulder.

Oh dear God, not this again!

"LET ME GO!" I protest - trying my very best to not slur over my words because right now I'm looking at the back of Blake and I'm seeing double legs and double ass. The later might just be because he has a fine ass (for a guy).

I'm so weird.

"The fake boyfriend thing? That was smart," Blake says - like he's not carrying me as if I'm a sack of potatoes. I'm just praying that I'm not flashing.

"You guys were just stupid!" I spit back. The Brandy is seriously kicking in because even my insults, which I'm usually brilliant at, is starting to suck.

Liam passes us and I think Blake asks him to grab my phone, but I'm not too sure over he sound of my own raging heart-beat. I don't stop kicking and yelling untll we get downstairs. I have to be smart about the situation, I manage to tell myself even while drunk.

Sure enough, Liam hands me my phone.

"Thank you," I say before punching him in the face. 

My knuckles sting, but I quickly bite Blake's shoulder, because now's my chance. Do these guys seriously think that kidnapping me will automatically make me fall in love with them? Idiots. 

Blake lets go through a painful yell and I quickly dive for the crowd. I look over my shoulder and he's already looking for me. Shit. So I duck and dive and try hiding and squeezing through people. When I get to the dance floor, I start dancing with random people - trying not to get noticed.

It's hard, considering I can only bust my 80's moves and grinding and twerking definitely isn't an option for me. I'm not judging the girls who are doing all that, but I just wish I was born in a different era. 

I switch dance partners like crazy - avoiding Blake as if he's the plague.

"That's quite the dance moves you have," I hear a male voice say over the music. He's not shouting which makes me really confused, because how am I hearing him?

Without letting my eyes leave where Blake is looking for me, I say "thanks," and switch partners for like the tenth time. 

When Blake seems to be busy with Tan Cam, I grab my chance and head to the kitchen. Relief washes over me like a cold shower when I spot Jessy pouring herself more drinks. She's about as wobbly as I am and I have to concentrate to not see double of her.

"Makes laughter be!" I say and then curse under my breath because I can't even speak right now. "Blake's after me!" I try again and this time Jessy looks alarmed.

"Why?!"

"I don't know! He thinks that kidnapping me will make me fall in love with him or something!" I protest.

"Should we go home?"

"I can't drive like this..." I confess, because drinking and driving is not something I support. Especially when I can barely speak like a basic human being. 

"Uhhh... I can ask Jane if we can pick the car up tomorrow? Then we just take an Uber?" Jessy suggests.

I'm about to tell her to go ahead and order an Uber, but then Jessy's eyes stretch wide at something behind me.

"Shit, go!" Jessy says and gestures for me to take the kitchen door. I spot Blake standing there and Jessy is stepping into his way while I get the hell out of there. This is insane! 

I turn right, going deeper into the mansion and then run up the stairs on my left before diving for a room. When I'm inside, I try regaining my breath. Weak at the knees, I fall onto the bed and sit there. If I wait here long enough, I can leave with Jessy unnoticed later-

Blake opens the door and walks in.

Dammit!

But then I notice that there's something different about him. A defeated look is pasted onto his face. I know enough about faking to spot when someone's not completely genuine. Mr Kidnapper over here is definitely not being genuine. 

"What are you doing?" I ask when he slumps down onto the bed.

"I'm taking a break."

"From?"

"Life"

I snort at that because he can't possibly think that I believe his bullshit. I'm not dumb. This guy is clearly being fake.

"You're lucky you're normal," he says. My blood starts to boil an icy kind of rage. "You get to live a normal life and not worry about people who you care about getting killed. You just have to be pretty and everything will work out for you," he ends off with.

I feel myself slip into a darker part of my mind. That icy rage starts to freeze me over. The kind of cold that burns because I swear I'll explode if this guy keeps talking. 

"You have no idea what you're talking about," I say. The words are softer than I intend it to be, but I'm afraid that if I talk too loudly, I might break. The whole situation has taken a turn. Gone is the fun/quirky mood of the night.

"What do you mean?" Blake asks. I can see he's getting impatient with me and that gets me to see red. 

"You think just because I'm pretty that I'm normal? That I don't have my own shit to deal with?" I ask. I feel cold and yet my blood is boiling. Within the dark room all I see is red. Red like blood. Warm sticky blood on my face... 

"Yes, I do," Blake answers.

"Well, you're wrong. I have demons of my own, Blake," I say through controlled breaths. 

"You think living with your cousin is demons? What? Doesn't Mommy and Daddy want to deal with you anymore? Did your credit card max out at your last shopping spree? My dad is dead. And my brother too. I only have my mom left, so get real. Life is much harder than figuring out what to wear to a party or a chipped nail," Blake rants.

My eyes are stinging and I hate Blake for making me feel so vulnerable. I don't cry. Much less in front of people. But his words are hitting me so hard at how wrong he is. A part of me says I should leave it. Let him think he's right, but the more influential part of me wants to see his face when he realizes he's the world's biggest dick. 

"I'm living with my cousin, because my parents got murdered," I whisper.

Blake's face stays in his cruel sneer for a second before the words hit home. His silver-grey eyes suddenly look like flimsy tinfoil.

"People came into our house and when my Dad tried to stop them, they shot him eight times. My mother got shot twice while I was hiding under her bed. Her blood splattered onto me. There's a reason I don't paint with red. And sometimes my mind goes so dark it feels like I'm going to drown.

"So don't you dare tell me I don't have demons. You're in a gang. You signed up for possibly losing people. Me? I'm not in a gang. I got my parents taken away because people wanted to rob us," I end off with before storming out of the room. 

I slam the door behind me.

I'm feeling remarkably sober now. Like that icy rage just froze away the warm feeling of alcohol inside. 

When I finally get downstairs, I spot Jessy and tell her we're going home immediately. 

"What happened?" she asks when she sees my red eyes, "Did you smoke weed or something?"

I know she knows I was on the verge of crying hard so I let myself chuckle at her flimsy joke. She's trying to help, I tell myself.

We get to Blue Jay in a rush and I unlock the car before we slip inside. 

"Are you sure you can drive?" Jessy asks.

"I'm sure," I say and speed away.

While racing back home, I think about crashing. I think about whether people will care or if it'll be like my parents and after a week everything goes silent. I think about what color my blood would be. If it'll be like my mother's or darker. But then I think about Jessy panicking beside me and I slow a bit down.

By the time we actually get home, I've relaxed a little.

"Oh my God, it's past twelve already!" Jessy says.

"It's already that late?" I ask - desperately trying to climb out of the black hole my mind is in.

"Yeah. First party selfie?" Jessy suggests.

I smile at my cousin and nod. "New beginning!" we chime together when the photo snaps. As usual we hunch together to inspect the picture.

"Ugh, that is NOT going on my Instagram," Jessy says, "What the? Is that... Is that puke in my hair? Oh my God, I have someone's puke in my hair!" Jessy yells and flips her hair back - trying to stay away from the possible puke.

"It could like, be yogurt or something," I suggest.

"Yogurt. Seriously, Amber? Did you see anyone eating yogurt at the party?" Jessy laughs.

We chuckle for a while and I finally feel fine again. For a moment I'm guilty about being fine. My parents got murdered and yet I manage to laugh and smile. Does it make me a horrible person? To not be completely ruined? 

"Amber... you okay?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine," I say and we slip out of Blue Jay.

When we get to the front door, we're whispering and trying to make as little noise as possible to not wake anyone. Once inside, a lamp suddenly gets switched on in the living room.

Sitting on the couch is Aunt Tessa and Uncle Anton - the latter stroking a pair of socks.

"Where have you been?" Uncle Anton asks.

"At a Party, Dad. You told us we can go," Jessy points put.

"And why have you been out until the early hours?" Aunt Tessa chirps in.

"Mom, it was a party," Jessy sighs. Her parents can be dramatic as hell, but that kind of also makes them cool.

"Are... Are you stroking a pair of socks, Uncle Anton?" I ask.

Aunt Tessa seems to let out an 'I told you breath', but Uncle Anton has no shame.

"Yes, I admit they are socks, but Tessa didn't want to buy me a cat so I took these socks because they have cats on them. Stroking a cat makes it more intimidating," Uncle Anton explains.

"You stole Aunt Tessa's cat-socks?" I laugh.

"Honey, those are his socks," Aunt Tessa sighs.

We all laugh at that. Only Uncle Anton doesn't quite get the joke. But really, he never does. Eventually, Aunt Tessa tells us to be earlier next time because she wants to sleep and her husband refused to go to bed until they could catch us slipping into the house. After a goodnight, Jessy and I part to our separate rooms.

I strip down to my underwear before slipping on an over-sized shirt that says 'Till death do we art'. When comfy, I switch off the lights and slide into the covers of my bed.

Curious if I got a message, I unlock my phone and sure enough find a message from Mysterious Fucker.

My heart feels like it's going to explode out of my chest when I realize that I've actually made contact with Mysterious Fucker tonight. I try raking my brain for any faces, but the only time I danced with other guys was when I was hell-bent on getting away from Blake.

'That's quite the dance moves you have...'

Oh my God... One of those random guys I danced with wasn't random at all!

Hey,

I know this chapter has already happened, but I wanted to show it from Amber's point of views as well. Was it okay? And what to you think about Mysterious Fucker?

PS GUESS WHO IS AT #632 IN TEEN FICTION!?!?!?!

That guy that I once saw in a movie.

I'M KIDDING! IT'S US!!!!! TGAAGG IS DOING SO WELL!!! 

Thank you so much for the support and don't forget to vote and comment, because it would be awesome if I can make it in the top 500. Thanks again!!!

~ Holly Shmit