"Come on, I know you'd rather be chilling at home than coming to this party with me, but tough luck," Rachel said, a mischievous grin playing on her lips as she tugged at your hand. Like Chloe, you despised the snobs at Blackwell and the Vortex Club members, so this invite wasn't exactly your idea of fun.

Ignoring your protests, Rachel guided you to a halt near the door. You hesitated, asking, "Shouldn't we call Chloe to join us?" Rachel rolled her eyes. "Oh, please... If Chloe wanted in, she'd be here. And trust me, she's totally blitzed right now. It's just you and me. So, what's the verdict?"

She nudged your chest playfully, smirking and fluttering her eyelashes. "Are you seriously gonna bail on me at a Vortex Club bash, or are you gonna tough it out and keep your defenseless friend company?" Her tone was teasing yet assertive, her gestures dramatically as if on a stage.

"Oh, come on," you muttered, rolling your eyes. Taking a breath, you conceded, "Fuck it, let's do it." Rachel's grin widened. "That was easier than I expected," she quipped, swinging the door open.

"I seriously hate you," you muttered quietly.

Rachel chuckled softly, leaning closer. "No, you fucking don't," she countered with a playful smirk. "Now come on, Dickhead, let's grab some brews and dance till dawn!" With that, she took your hand and pulled you into the party.