BITCH ARE U DONE YET WE’RE ALMOST THERE
Luna:
i swear if u bail AGAIN, im keying his car myself
Harper:
you definitely can’t bail tonight Aeri! I already pre-gamed in the Uber and I’m two shots away from texting my therapist “u up”
Luna:
Get ur ass ready, Cupid's Killhouse is already fucking pumping and I don’t want to miss Noir’s set
I type with one hand while I hook the matching jeweled bottoms up over my hips.
Me:
Relax. I’m not bailing. Perfection just can’t be rushed! I swear, Mark is going to DIE when he sees how good I look in this outfit. I am literally art
Luna:
Ohhh he’s gonna die alright, either by how hot my bestie is, or by my hand, has yet to be determined. HOWEVER…Show. Us. The. Fit.
Harper:
What she said, drop the outfit, bitch.
I snap a mirror selfie. Blood-red crystal lingerie clinging to me like it was poured on, every drip sparkling like a warning. The red-strung straps bite into my waist in the hottest possible way. My legs look a mile long in the matching thigh-high platform boots, the same red crystals climbing up them like they’re trying to devour me.
I look smug, unhinged, goddamn feral, and maybe a little illegal.
I hit send before I can second-guess anything.
Immediately:
Luna:
OHHHHH BABE SHE’S A FINAL GIRL.
Harper:
girl… MARK is gonna CHOKE. like literally drop dead before I even get the satisfaction of carving his cheating ass open.
Luna:
honestly? good for him. he deserves the embarrassment. watching you look THAT good is punishment enough.
Harper:
I guess so, but an outfit like that shouldn’t be wasted. You know what they say, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone.. And looking like that….
Me:
trust me, he’s gonna regret every trashy decision he ever made. man couldn’t keep his micro-peen in his pants, now he gets front-row seats to my villain era.
On the TV, the reporter keeps talking, voice rising with fake concern.
“Authorities are urging residents to avoid large gatherings tonight as they believe the killer may escalate around the Valentine’s holiday?—”
