by D. V. EEDEN
“Well, so what if I’m a virgin?” I retort, crossing my arms over my chest, raising my eyebrow at him as Hugo chuckles under his breath.
“I can smell the desperation on you. But don’t worry Africa, I don’t fuck virgins, especially if they’re you…”
“Sorry I’m late, dude,” Blake says, breaking the tension between Hugo and me. I couldn’t be more thankful for Blake’s presence. I shift in my seat, still affected by Hugo’s words but I couldn’t care less if he didn’t want to fuck me. I’m not interested.
At least I don’t think I am.
“Africa, you look like shit.” Blake snorts with a mocking smile.
Rolling my eyes at him, I get back to my assignment, the words from Hugo playing in my mind over and over again. We all sit at the table in silence, working on our projects. The only words spoken are when it’s something to do with our work, and surprisingly Blake and I are working well together.
After a while, Charles and Royce come over to our table, interrupting our quiet working environment. Royce takes the seat directly next to me and Charles takes the other. I’m sandwiched between two dickheads, one that loathes me and the other who I used to be obsessed over, but now I couldn’t care less about.
Charles grins at the whole table, enjoying the sight. “Look at this lovely little study group,” he teases, and
Blake gives him a death glare, warning him to shut up.
See what I mean by dynamics? Now Blake is in charge. It makes no sense.
The boys talk between themselves, ignoring the fact that I’m sitting there, listening to every word. I discreetly plug one earphone in, hiding the wire between my hair so they don’t notice. Hopefully if I don’t put the music loud, they won’t hear it.
I put on ‘Greatness’ by Don Broco and Hugo shakes his head at me. He knows, but at least he leaves me alone.
“Hey Africa, you coming to the party this weekend?” Charles asks, titling his head in my direction. I shrug my shoulders, oblivious to what party they’re talking about.
“No, probably not.”
Charles’ smug grin doesn’t falter, his brown eyes looking more hazel today. “We promise to leave you alone, I mean it’s nearly Christmas after all.”
I don’t believe him for one second. I wouldn’t trust a word any of these guys say to me. Ever.
“Aww man, would have been so much fun. It’s this Saturday at Club Envy,” he wiggles his eyebrows and I crinkle my nose.
Fuck, I’m working behind the bar that night. I ignore Charles, putting my head down, listening to music and continuing with my project. I haven’t felt this uncomfortable in such a long time, my body is shaking from being wedged between all four Royals and my anxiety is screaming at me.
“Suit yourself,” Charles sighs.
Once the two hours is up and the bell rings to signal the end of the day, I go to stand up and leave, but Hugo tuts, waving his finger at me. “We aren’t finished, we haven’t actually done what I wanted you to do, so sit your ass back down.” I groan in response.
Damn it, I really thought I’d be getting out of it this time, but since Hugo has been tutoring me, my grades have become so much better. I sit back down, taking out my other assignments that need to be completed and the other guys snigger at the annoyance on my face.
They stay the whole time.
Chapter Twenty-One
Saturday rolls around rather quickly, and I’m at the club already setting up for the party tonight. Apparently, it’s Charles’ ‘unofficial’ birthday party with only a few people attending, some from the academy. I’m dreading the fact that I’m working tonight. The rumors and torment about me being a murderer have died down a little, I mean I still get the odd remark and my locker painted red to represent blood, but I don’t let it get to me as much as I have done. Not retaliating has had its benefits.
Apparently, this evening is a black and white theme party, so Samantha has asked the bar staff to adhere to the rules. I put on my leather skintight trousers, a white Bordeaux crop top and my heeled boots. I may as well look like I’m attending a party. Lily and I hang up the lavish black and white decorations around the club, covering every corner possible and placing a bottle of Dom Perignon on every table. This party must have cost a bomb.
As I go back behind the bar to get some champagne glasses, I hear a loud whistle coming from the entrance. I look over to the red velvet curtains where the Royals walk through, all dressed in their fine, expensive suits, not adhering to the rules of black and white outfits. Charles is wearing a grey suit with a white shirt, buttons undone halfway, showing off his pale chest. His dirty blonde shaggy hair still falls over his eyes, giving the ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude.
Charles’ lips curl into a grin when he notices me. “Oh Africa, I knew you couldn’t resist the urge to join us,” he chuckles, his perfectly cheeky smile showing off his pearly whites. “You’re a little early though.”.
I sigh, putting on a fake smile but it falters. “I’m working,” I say. I do not want to deal with their arrogance tonight. Standing behind the bar, I tap my fingers on the wooden counter, my other hand placed on my cocked hip, waiting patiently for their drinks order. “Do you want to me get you anything?”
Charles stands in front of me, placing both his forearms on the bar, clasping his hands together as the other three surround him. I glance at Royce, who stands next to Charles, a little more underdressed than the rest, wearing a pair of dark blue suit trousers and a white button up, folded at the arms. His light brown hair is tousled, as if he didn’t even bother to style it, but somehow it looks great. He stands with both hands in his trouser pockets, ignoring me, unlike the rest of the gang.
“Shots. We need shots,” Charles hollers, clasping his hands around his mouth.
He’s way too excited for this early in the evening.
I look at the other two, raising my eyebrow and they nod. Okay, shots it is. I get out four shot glasses and the tequila, pouring them each one, adding a slice of lime and handing over the salt. They cheers and say happy birthday to Charles, clinking the little glasses before gulping the shot in one go.
My eyes automatically drift to where Hugo is standing, perfectly dressed in his navy-blue suit that hugs him in all the right places. The way the suit strains against his biceps as he lifts his arm to take the shot is tantalizing. I’m surprised it doesn’t burst open. His ebony hair is perfectly styled, and come to think of it, I have never seen a hair out of place on his head. He looks as immaculate as ever.
Blake looks devilish in his charcoal grey suit, matched with a black button up, making the oceanic blue of his eyes pop. He would be better suited if he had red eyes with two horns coming out of his skull, but he is as handsome as they come. They all are. It’s hard to believe that the most fine-looking specimens are all in one academy. I suppose it helps to be rich. They can afford to look this extravagant.
“More shots Africa, and I want you to have one to,” Charles smirks, shaking his empty shot glass at me.
I smile at him, shaking my head. “No, I’m okay thanks.”
He flutters his long eyelashes at me, his grin growing wider. “Oh, come on. It’s my birthday.”
I snort a ‘fine’ in response and get out an extra shot glass before filling them all with tequila. The boys all chuckle as I hand them their glasses and I take mine, raising it in the air and to cheers Charles, again. I swallow the tequila, pulling the most scrunched up face as the liquid burns down my throat.
Charles yells ‘woo’, clearly excited.
I can tell this evening is going to be hectic.
The bass from the music starts to thump, guests arriving and all wearing their white and black outfits, looking flawless. A few people I’ve never seen or met before arrive, clearly not from the academy, but of course the three bitches turn up. Ruby, Constance, and Priscilla are wearing matching skintight white dresses. The hems just about cover their asses, their cleavages on display, and for some weird reason t
hey have silver glitter painted on their faces.
God help me.
Ruby walks past the bar, giving me a pouty smile as she flips her hair over her shoulder. All three girls walk over to the VIP area joining the Royals, taking a seat on their laps.
And they call me a slut? I’m not about this slut shaming thing and I think each to their own but calling a virgin a slut and then displaying your own sluttish ways is just being a hypocrite.
All the drinks have been covered by Charles, so the guests are definitely taking advantage. Shot after shot leave the bar, everyone getting so drunk a few of them can’t even stand. I scan the room, my gaze landing on the VIP area where Constance is giving Charles a lap dance.
She’s rubbing her pelvis against his dick, swaying her hair all over the place and I think she’s trying to be sexy, but it really isn’t working. I’m staring at Constance with such distain in my expression, I don’t even notice Royce has joined me at the bar.
“She’s really not working it. She doesn’t even know how to dance, unlike someone I know,” he says, breaking my stare.
I mumble, trying to find a response but nothing comes. I purse my lips and pour myself a glass of rum and coke, taking a sip of the sweet nectar. I’m more stunned because this is the first sentence Royce has said to me in weeks. All of a sudden, it’s back to where it all started, when he apologized, but then betrayed me even further.
“What do you want?” I snap at him, my eyes wide as I look into his sea green eyes. I tie my hair up in a ponytail while he stands in front of me, my neck over-heating from the heat in the club. Beads of sweat are forming in my hairline.
Royce places a hand on his heart, fluttering his eyelashes at me. I cock my head at him, forming a fake smile. I won’t let him get to me this time.
He sighs, pulling a bar stool out then taking a seat. I automatically pour his whiskey with three cubes of ice and slide it in his direction.
“I see you remember my drink,” he smirks, taking a sip of the golden-brown liquid, which matches the colour of his eyes as they stare at me over the rim of the glass.
The music gets louder, drum and bass thumping in the speakers and it’s not even midnight. It’s going to be a long night. When the music gets softer, I notice a huge five-foot cake being rolled out onto the stage, and Charles running up the stairs to go inspect it. As he steps close, a half-naked red headed woman jumps out, only wearing a white silk thong. My eyes go wide at the nudity. I wasn’t aware there was a giant cake stashed somewhere, or the fact it had a naked lady hiding inside. A wooden chair gets pulled onto the stage next to the cake, the red headed bombshell forces him to take a seat, and she starts dancing on his lap, rubbing her tits in his face.
I don’t think I have ever seen Charles so happy in his life. A beautiful naked lady and Constance have both rubbed their pussies against his muscular body tonight. Blake and Hugo stand in front of the stage, cheering him on and laughing like I’ve never seen before.
I wish they were always this happy.
I raise an eyebrow at Royce, who isn’t paying attention to what’s going on. Instead he’s downing his drink, looking depressed.
“Why aren’t you up there enjoying the naked lady?” I ask.
He places the empty tumbler on a coaster, twirling the glass around as he stares at it absently. “Not into that.”
I grab the whiskey from the shelf, filling up his glass to the rim. Clearly, he needs it. I grab another glass and pour myself a tipple, downing the brown liquid.
Royce smiles at me as I pull another vulgar face, not used to drinking spirits straight. Then he stands up, lifting his glass to me to say thanks and walks over to their VIP table, Priscilla pouncing on him straight away, licking the shell of his ear as he sits down.
What the fuck is going on right now?
A few hours pass, and the party is still in full swing, and people are drunk as skunks. The bottles of champagne are being downed by the bottle rather than using the glasses provided, waitresses replacing them each time. I dread to think how much this has cost him.
Walking around, I look for empty glasses to take back and get cleaned. Sweaty bodies dance around every open space available, the guests popping pills and snorting cocaine off of the tables, some of the girls doing body shots. Soon after, the Royals and the other guests pop open the champagne bottles, covering the top with their thumbs, shaking the fizzy liquid before spraying Charles.
It’s showering Dom Perignon, and all the guests, including me, are soaked through. Charles is the worst, standing on the table as someone sprays the golden liquid into his mouth, his tongue sticking out to catch every last drop, the liquid covering his face and wetting his unruly hair. The guests all wearing white are now showing visible underwear, but Ruby and her two minions are not wearing a bra, so pointed nipples are on show for everyone to see.
What a surprise there.
I’m glad I put on a stick-on bra under my crop top, otherwise mine would be on show for everyone to see as well. Rushing to the ladies’ room, I check my make-up and wash the stickiness off my hands. I look at myself in the mirror, reapplying my red lipstick, Luckily, nothing else has been ruined. I wash my hands and forearms, trying to get the champagne off my skin. I smell like an adult’s sweet shop.
As I stroll back to get behind the bar, I notice Samantha’s office door slightly ajar. I open the door, expecting Samantha to be inside but instead I find Hugo sitting in the red leather armchair, licking his lips as his hand rubs the stubble on his chin. The other hand is twisted in dark purple hair, a girl on her knees is sucking his dick. I gasp, my hands shooting to cover my mouth and my eyes go wide. Hugo notices, but grins and doesn’t stop.
I quickly retreat, closing the door behind me and scurry off to the bar. I grab a shot of vodka as it’s the closest bottle to me and down the clear liquid. It burns down my throat, all the way to my belly, making me feel warm, even though I’m as hot as hell right now. I’m fanning my face with my hand, unable to get any cooler, and seeing Hugo with that girl has got me bubbling with jealousy. The way she made him look euphoric, a look I never thought I’d witness.
Lucky girl.
Shaking the thought and the image out of my head, I serve the other customers at the bar, keeping myself busy. I notice throughout the evening that the purple haired girl is nowhere to be seen, but Hugo has joined the others back at their table drinking the champagne by the bottle. I must admit, this has been an awesome party, and I can’t wait to see how much it all cost.
The time hits three in the morning and the guests have left, leaving only the Royals, me and the cleaning staff left. The club is a fucking mess and I wouldn’t be surprised if it needs a deep clean.
The Royals are still sitting in the upholstered VIP booth, smoking cigars, and finishing off their drinks. Cocaine is neatly cut into lines on the table, as they each have their turn getting their high.
“Africa, how about you bring that leather ass of yours over here and join us?” Charles purrs as I walk past, holding a tray with empty glasses. I look at the four boys, all with their button ups undone halfway, their suit jackets nowhere to be seen and apart from Hugo, their hair is so disheveled it kind of suits them. Hugo’s hair hasn’t moved an inch.
I may need to ask him what he uses so that I can use it for when I dance.
“Sorry, but I have work to do and then I’ll head back to the academy,” I retort.
Charles’ brows furrow as a smirk takes over his cheeky face, his pupils so dilated you can hardly see the natural colour of his eyes. “Africa, I’m paying for tonight which means I’m paying for your time so you will come here, take a seat and have a drink,” he patronizes, patting the empty space next to him.
Placing the tray down on another table, I wave goodbye to the last of the staff leaving for the evening. All four pairs of eyes stare at me, waiting for me to sit. I obey, perching down next to Charles, crossing my legs, and pouring myself a glass of champagne.
Charle
s’ arm snakes around the back of the seat behind me and he chuckles, lifting his glass to cheers with me. We clink glasses and I down my drink in one gulp, craving the buzz after tonight’s eventful shift. The music is still left on for background noise, and Royce pours me another glass of nectar, which I savor this time round.
Blake licks the top of his forefinger, dipping it into the white powder on the table and sucking it off clean. I’m watching him as he does this and Charles notices. “Do you want to try some?” he whispers in my ear, sending shivers all the way down my spine.
I turn to face him, frowning. “No, I don’t do drugs.”
He chuckles under his breath, and I can feel the low grumble from his chest along my side as he leans in. “Honestly, it’s not that bad. it won’t do you any harm if you only do it for fun. It’ll make you feel good,” he carries on. “I dare you,” he hisses now, and I can feel the venom from his voice. He licks his finger the way Blake did, dipping it into the snow-like powder, bringing it up to his lush pink lips and sucking it off as if it’s sherbet.
I lick my lips, swallowing the gulp in my throat, my breath quickening. The boys are all staring at me, all the black holes of their eyes hiding their true identity. The red lights shine on each of their faces, looking like sin and there’s me, the innocent angel.
Charles does the same again, dipping his finger and thumb into the powder. He turns so he’s directly facing me, the sinful grin on his face as his powder free fingers cup my chin, bringing the forefinger to my lips. I bite my lip, staring directly into the abyss of his eyes. I open my mouth, placing my red painted lips around the slender finger. I swirl my tongue around, tasting the bitter drug mixed with the taste of Charles. As soon as he withdraws the finger, he pushes his thumb into my mouth, the other fingers stroking my soft face.
My eyes don’t leave his, the rise and fall of his chest prominent through his white, wet shirt. I look around to the other guys, who are staring at me sucking Charles’ thumb. Royce and Blake have haughty expressions, but Hugo is clenching his jaw, the veins in his neck pulsing as he watches me suck on his best friend’s thumb.