I’m wearing a silver dress from Versace that Megan The Stallion wore on her Instagram page two weeks ago. A clout goblin like Inessa will at least passively recognize my appearance as being totally on brand with what rappers in Miami might be interested in. I have on a pair of Bottega Veneta Riva Strap sandals that go with the dress, but are the only uncomfortable part of my outfit I’m not sure I can handle. My brother has no idea what he’s criticizing since he lets mom order everything he needs from Prada for him.
“I look exactly like a Miami bottle girl,” I tell him with self-assurance that I can handle a task as simple as helping my brothers. “I created a fake identity and obtained an Instagram profile with a whole backstory created with artificial intelligence so I can bamboozle this woman. Don’t underestimate me.”
Peter smirks and I can tell just for a second that heisimpressed. There’s just some demon inside my older brother that can’t let me get away with feeling too proud.
“Did you have to get a bunch of plastic injected into your lips?”
I scowl at him, trying to ignore the soft throb of the little hole in my upper lip where I got my fillers updated.Yes,my beauty routine was absolutely a part of the plan.
“I also brought that gross Skims bra with the nipple rings,” I inform my very ignorant brother. “Are you going to comment on my body like some creep? We’re in Miami, not at Mar A Lago.”
He grunts and rolls his eyes, not wanting to get me started, which is a good instinct.
“Let’s go to this night club. Are you sure you can handle this on your own?”
“She’s an annoying skank, not a monster truck holding a shotgun. I’ll be fine.”
Peter pats me on the back. “Thank you, sister.”
“Don’t thank me. I would help Aricia for free.”
The more time Peter spends in love with this woman, the less time he will spend pestering me about my future, what I’m doing with his money, and about my various beauty routines. If I do this, I can buy a little silence over my buccal fat removal I have scheduled for around Halloween…
Everything goes according to our initial plan and I’m allowed to enter the club through the VIP section because of my dedication creating my fake celebrity-influencer identity. The security guards even apologize for not recognizing me and they send a bottle over to my table once I get in the building.
I send my brothers a text to the group chat we have for this little job.
Flora:Checking Inessa’s social media to see where she is, but it’s busy here.
I scan the room, slowly drinking out of the bottle of high end champagne sent over to my table. I know, I should pour a glass but… who knows how long I’ll be in here tracking Inessa. My table is on an elevated floor over the dance floor, so I have a fullview of everything, but I’m tucked away enough that the music doesn’t deafen me.
Peter:Be cautious.
Downstairs, 360 by CharliXCX blasts on the radio, giving me the darkest craving for some time on the ski slopes. I swig from my bottle of champagne and take my time searching every face in the room and trying to find my target…
“HEY! You got anything?” I look over my shoulder and see a woman who I should recognize from her songs on the radio.
“No, sorry,” I respond with a sweet smile. With her image, you wouldn’t know she was the type. When my head snaps back to scanning the dancefloor, luck strikes. I see a glowing blue hair from the lights on the dance floor and I’m pretty sure it’s Inessa’s platinum blond hair. I scramble up from my table towards the railing and squint to make sure.
Inessa shakes her hips on the dancefloor, throwing her ass up against a couple tall women who look like they all just met each other and they’re more interested in giving a show and attracting male attention than dancing with each other. The disjointed movements, overzealous touching, and pursed up injected lips paint a full picture. This is a show…
I watch them for a few minutes until the song changes to an old Aviicii song. They shriek and throw their hands over their head before the dancing gets more… intense. I leave my bottle of champagne behind and sneak downstairs…
Chapter Thirty
Aricia
Peter left for Miami. He won’t explain why. In fact, he didn’t tell me at all that he was in Miami. Rana did her research and found out from his cousin, Lorenzo, who probably wasn’t even supposed to relinquish that information. Rana and I met at the park today close to my house for a trail walk because she has big news for me – not sure what it’s about, but considering everything that happened the last time Peter came over, I need someone to talk to.
Rana shows up at the park with her hair half-up, half-down and wearing a matching royal blue yoga set with leggings and a long sleeved jacket. She has a giant water bottle that she carries with her everywhere. I don’t know why young people feel the need to drink that much water all the time. I have no interest in dropping my pants anywhere near these trail bathrooms, so I’ll drink water afterwards, thank you very much.
“Where’s your water?” Rana asks. “Aren’t you going to be thirsty?”
“I’ll be fine. As long as we don’t run into any dogs.”
“It’s a relaxing trail walk, we’ll be fine.”
“You’re right… It’s just been a while.”
