you and Rafe were always together. well, always together at parties, like you’d show up and beeline to where he was sat doing lines with Topper and Kelce. sometimes you’d be perched on his lap like a bird, and he’d rub some of that white powder into your gums. you two would do shit like that.

no one ever saw you give Rafe money when you’d be together, it was like you’d just share. as if you two had a thing going on.

but, no matter how many people believed you did— you didn’t. you didn’t even like Rafe, or not that much. you were bitchy and rude, like him, and he didn’t like that. you were always snappy and basically just like him. neither of you are nice people, and to be honest, Rafe wants an innocent girl. the opposite of you.

“hey, baby,” Rafe hummed as your heels clacked against the floor, the music loud and buzzing. “don’t give me that look,” he huffed out, pulling you down onto his lap. his eyes were half-lidded, his head tilted back, and he obviously had little interest in you. he only enjoyed your presence.

“got the same shit as yesterday, don’t be gettin’ mad ‘bout it.”