His Forever 2-His girlfriend

1

Alisa

Two weeks had zipped by after the ordeal with the Magazine cover. The rains were coming to a slow halt and on a few days, New Yorkers could dare to go out without an umbrella in tow.

We had finalized every necessary deal and the studio was finally coming alive with some furniture, color, and a much-needed workspace. Of course, it was not as spacious or sophisticated as most famous fashion designer's studios, but it was mine. I had made it come to life with great help from my friends.

For the first time in months, a genuine feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment washed through me and I wished more than anything else to express this joy with Drey.

Wishful thinking.

More magazines had turned on a daily basis after the first, each subtly or directly suggesting Drey had moved on and was now with his next shot. It was either a club or a party, a ball or some charity event. Every new woman prettier, more sophisticated, and definitely bitchier than I could ever dream of being. In much simpler words, I was nothing compared to them. Just like I was nothing compared to Stella. It almost felt like someone was trying very hard every day to remind me of what I lost. They were doing a pretty good job since the sight of Drey so much as standing with another woman hurt more than driving a knife through my own heart.

Drey had moved on and here I was turning into a pool of tears at the very mention of his name for two months. It was a truth my heart could not bear to take so like always, I threw myself into working my ass off to get to this point where I stood in the middle of the half-empty room.

It would still need a little more to bring it to some perfection, but as the saying went. 'Rome was not built in a day' The atmosphere around here was more serene, it was an old building on the quiet side of town, owned by an old couple who occupied the first two floors. They reminded me of the Garcias and thanks to the personal elevator I received I did not even have to come across anyone, especially those leachy paparazzi and their constant barrage of endless questions about my life.

Ron and Drew had been here all week, helping me move things around and set up the place. I had even gotten gifts. The usual flowers I received every day from Drew along with a card, while Ron had gotten me a special coffee mug that said, 'proud of my best friend.' We had also made plans—if coercion and harmless emotional blackmail were classified as ways to make plans—to meet up later tonight. I would have refused as usual, but today was different, it was my first real day working here, and a little booze here and there might do me some good. Thankfully it was going to be a Saturday morning tomorrow and I could sleep it all out.

I delved into work, making new sketches for prototypes that would appeal to my new audience and not just my eyes. I drew inspiration from the magazines and celebrity photos scattered along one side of the wall.

Along with the excitement of getting this place set up, there was also the fear that crept up through my mind. The most evident was if this would even turn out to be a success. But I could not allow the fear of failing to hold me back from trying.

The door buzzed just as a message from Amanda popped on my phone. In the last few months, we had also grown fonder. Drey had given her job back after a few weeks and it hurt like hell to be friends with the people closest to him and still not be able to go to him. I knew where he lived and despite what the tabloids said I had that faintest hope that Drey still cared, still loved me. Enough to let, me back in his life if I wanted to be in it. Maybe it was me being stupid and delusional, or maybe I just refused to accept the fact that what we had meant nothing to him because he meant everything to me.

"Hey stranger," I said gleefully as I opened the door to a usually bright and optimistic Amanda.

Only today, she could not be more dreadful even if she witnessed a murder. Her mascara leaked from her already puffy eyes as the tears streamed down and from the way she slammed into me in a tight hug, I could tell she desperately needed a friend.

"Heyy..." I said in a much calmer voice, stroking her hair soothingly, "what's wrong, Ams?"

Besides the sound of her sniffles and silent sobs, she said nothing else. Bringing her to the sofa next to the window, I offered to make her some coffee, hoping that would do some good to calm her. She stared idly at the street across as I walked back to her with two cups of coffee. Taking a seat next to her, I offered her one.

"It's beautiful out here," she said with a forced smile after muttering her thanks.

"It is. Tell me what's wrong?" Wrong question because that seemed to re-open the flood of tears that seemed to have stopped a few seconds ago. "Ams," I spoke, inching closer to wrap her in a hug. "Did someone die?"

"No," She chuckled softly as she wiped her eyes, "but I wish someone had."

"What happened,"

"He's cheating," she sobbed.

"Who is?" I questioned, even though I had a good idea who she was going to say since we had gone over the same thing more than once in the past.

"Griffin."

Yup. Right. Griffin was a jerk, no that was a major understatement. He was an asshole through and through. And sadly, Amanda could not see right through him, or maybe she could and just ignored it. But it was not the first time I had watched her cry over him and it broke my heart all the time to see her so shattered.

"You went back to him again?" I said, trying and failing to hide the disappointment in my voice.

"I know!" she cried, "I know I'm stupid for believing him and letting this happen again, and I'm sorry Alissa that I can't be like you. Not everyone can just walk away from the man they love."

Her words stung, first because well it was the last thing I expected her to say, and second because she was not wrong. I wanted to tell her it was necessary to walk away when that man was a major jerk that did nothing but hurt her. But I could not find it in me, because I had found the perfect man, and yes I had walked away from him. I was no better. And I was in no place advising on such topics.

That was probably the one downside to our friendship.

We were most unlucky in love.

Ron broke up with Daniel after years of being my two favorite couples. Amanda kept going back to Griffin, blinded by her emotions for him, Drew had a big crush on Amanda and had had to keep it in because well...Griffin. And there was me. Maybe that made us a perfect match for each other.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry Alisa. I did not mean that." Amanda spoke, snapping me from my thoughts and I realized my mouth had been hanging open the last few seconds.

"It's fine." I waved it off with a fake smile. As much as I wanted to be upset I knew Amanda really meant nothing by it.

"No, it's not. You have always been nothing but nice to me and I didn't have to be so bitchy to you. I'm really sorry."

It's okay Ams" I promised, offering her a more genuine smile as I took her hand. "Tell me what Griffin did."

Her face morphed back into that sunken sadness, "Nothing he hasn't done before, but this time I think I'm done, Alisa. I'm tired and I don't want to do this anymore."

"Am I a terrible friend for being relieved to hear that?"

She chuckled sadly, "Not at all, I should have listened to you before. He really was not worth it."

"Better late than never and I think you deserve some happiness," I said honestly.

Wiping her eyes, she took a long sip from her cup before asking the question that made me nearly choke. "How are things with you and Drey now?"

"What things?" I asked, in my most unbothered tone.

"Alisa, you should see..."

"Would you like to come with me to the club tonight?" I asked, cutting her off before it would be my turn to become a sobbing mess.

"You never go to the club." She raised her brows almost amusedly. I was thankful that she took the change of topic well and did not press it further.

I downed the rest of my coffee in one go and got to my feet. "Drew and Ron can be very persuasive. Also, I'll be officially resuming and open for business on Monday, some booze would not hurt." I gave a mischievous smile as an idea popped into my head. "And I have a good idea how to make you feel better."

"Does it involve murdering Griffin?" she asked with a toothed smile.

"As long as we share the same cell in jail, I'm good," I chuckled as I resumed my sketching, "But no, it has more to do with drinking hard and screaming f**k you from the top of a roof." I gave her a wink as I recounted the promise I had made her months ago.

"Well, in that case, I'm all in." she grinned.

"Now, in the meantime, come tell me what you think about these sketches."

****

The loud music blared in my ears as bodies scrubbed against each other harmoniously with the music. Beyond the loud partying, someone was yelling and cursing at having vomit all over them and I was suddenly reminded why the club was not my favorite place.

"So, what do you want to do first?" Amanda asked, clinging on to my arm with Drew and Ron following closely behind us.

"Is that even a question? Shots!" Drew cheered.

"I don't think it's a good idea to start the evening with shots," I suggested, hoping to get as little alcohol as possible into my system tonight.

"Jesus, would you loosen the f**k up Bess," Ron spoke as he pulled my arm leading us further into the club, "You just opened up the first branch of your very first business..."

"It's just a studio, actually," I corrected.

"Same thing love. The point is, I'm so proud of you as I'm sure we all are—" he looked between Drew and Amanda for affirmation and continued after an enthusiastic nod from both, "and what better way to celebrate this milestone than this."

"You mean getting drunk and waking up with a hangover tomorrow?" I arched a brow.

"You're finally starting to get a hang of it."

***

I felt spent and exhausted as the night brewed on. My feet hurt and I made a mental note to opt for anything other than the heels I had on right now the next time I made a trip to the club. That would not be a problem though. The last time I had been in a club was months ago when I was literally hauled out by Drey thanks to his disapproval of my dress.

I was not too sure he would like this dress that much either. If the term slutty was an outfit, yup it would be this. But I gave not one f**k. If he was busy screwing half of Manhattan and moving on with his life, I too could go clubbing in my damn underwear if I wished.

Our group of four had been split in two, with me and Ron sticking together on the dance floor, while Drew subtly attempted to make his move with Ams. I silently hoped he would tonight, the man had been drooling over her for months without saying a word. He had even moved here to New York under the pretense of trying to expand but I knew too well the real reason. It was funny watching him fall stupid in love with Amanda because just like his brother, Drew was a heartthrob. I could not count how many times we had received free passes, cut to the front of the line, gotten stalked thanks to girls—and guys—just wanting to take a picture. Tonight, for example, we had gotten a private entrance into the club, though that had more to do with him being a Carlson.

What I could not understand though was the contempt I saw flash in Ron's eyes every time he looked their way. Maybe it was just me but Ron did not seem too pleased with how happy Drew and Amanda looked as they chatted away, laughing and sipping their drinks slowly. Or maybe it was just something else, but I knew when my best friend was upset and he was right now.

"Tell me how your date went." I blurted, needing to say something to get his attention on me.

His head snapped to me, and he raised an amused brow. "Right here?"

"Hmm-hmm," I nodded, rocking closer to him so we could communicate better over the booming of the music.

"Well terrible is one word for it," he forced a chuckle.

"It was that bad?"

"He wanted a D/s relationship."

"Well that's not so bad," I said honestly, having had a glimpse of what it felt like to be a sub for one night.

"I never said it was, I like to explore in my s*x life, and I almost agreed to it, right before he said it was going to be an open relationship with his best friend."

"Oh," I said, biting back a laugh.

"Did I forget to mention his best friend is female?"

"Well, maybe it's the heavens giving you a sign that it's time to explore bisexuality," I said, hoping to sound positive.

"Or maybe it's time to delete that app." he rolled his eyes and directed them back at Drew and Amanda. I was sure this time that I was not mistaking the way his lips curled into a sneer.

"Ronnie do you like Amanda?" I questioned. He turned to me with a hard and serious look, before bursting into laughter that drew a little attention to us. "What's so funny?"

"I'm sorry," he said, clutching his stomach as his laugh faded. "but dude I literally just turned down an invitation to have s*x with an incredibly hot girl and her best friend."

"What am I supposed to think. You have been staring at them all evening." I tilted my head towards Amanda and Drew, they seemed to be getting along pretty well and now, Drew was behind the counter mixing drinks effortlessly as Amanda cheered him on happily. She seemed like she had had enough to drink.

"Not them, I was staring at the hot bartender standing next to Drew," he said pointing towards the man who did not seem too bothered by Drew doing his job. While it was true that the man was hot, I knew too well that he was not exactly Ron's type. Having lived through all his boyfriends since he came out, I could tell he was just making something up. But before I could voice that concern, Ron tugged at my arm, leading me towards the bar. "I'm gonna ask for his number, and you'll be my backup."

"Ron, are you just trying to get me to stop talking?" I asked, steeling myself, and planting my feet on the ground.

"No Lisa, I promise. I'm more gay than you give me credit for and if I'm ever interested in f*****g p*****s, you'd be the first to know."

"Promise?"

"Promise," he smiled, taking my hand again, "now would you be my backup or nah?"

***

For the first time in my life, I had had so much to drink and I was still standing on my two feet. Or so I thought. The way my body crashed into the sofa next to Drew told me otherwise. It was past midnight and after dancing the night away, drinking to our heart's content, and having to shoo a few hands that decided to get all touchy on the dance floor, I was exhausted from my aching head down to my nearly swollen feet.

Amanda and I had fulfilled our mission of screaming f**k you at the top of our voices to her no-good, petty knobhead wanker of a boyfriend. We had even sent him a break-up video using the very same words and at some point afterward, Drew and Amanda had kissed. I guess they had also had enough to drink because they seemed to get a little too clingy after the kiss.

"I hate these shoes," I whined as I struggled to kick them off, groaning and kicking my legs against the table.

"Let me get that for you," Ron chuckled. leaning lower to get the strap off for me.

"Remind me never to dance in 4-inch stilettos again," I said lazily, tossing the shoes aside.

"Noted," Ron nodded, chuckling at my drowsy behavior. "How much did you drink again?"

"You're asking me?" I giggled. The way my cheeks burned and my body swayed anytime I attempted to stand told me I had had enough to drink tonight. By enough, I meant two glasses of whatever drink Drew had given me.

"Now I feel terrible for making you do this," a guilty-looking Drew spoke, as his hand shot out to rub my back.

"Are you kidding me? I have not felt this free and happy in months, I should be thanking you." It was the truth. While my pounding head was a concern to me, I could not bring myself to regret doing this tonight. For once I could be something other than the girl that locked herself up in her room crying over one new situation or the other. And for once I could do something else other than lick the wounds I had earned from leaving Drey. "Really thank you guys for making me come here tonight."

"Alisa's right. I am totally on another level of high right now." Amanda grinned, as her eyes flashed to Drew's.

"I'm sure," Ron spoke, rolling his eyes, before turning to me. "Let's get you home now. I'm glad to know you don't hate us now for making you come, but I think we've had enough partying for one night."

"Nope." I raised a hand, beckoning over to a waiter carrying a tray of shots. "We cannot leave without making a toast."

"Who are you and what did you do with my best friend?" Ron gave me a wary look.

"It's just shots Ron, I'm a big girl."

Ron and Drew exchanged looks as the drinks were set down and then with an exhausted huff they looked back at me. "I guess one more drink would not hurt anyone."

"I love you both," I said, giggling.

Drew muttered something that sounded like, "Wait till my brother hears that," before raising his glass as we all did. "To Alisa's new beginning and more big wins for everyone at this table."

After clinking glasses, I downed the content in one gulp, gasping as the liquid burned my mouth through my throat. "Oh my God, that's strong."

"Agreed," Amanda had her face scrunched up as she pushed her glass aside.

Tossing my glass on the table, I got to my feet, "I need to pee."

"Need me to come with you?" Someone asked, I couldn't tell, I was too hazed.

"No, no. I'm good, be back in a minute." It was probably a bad idea to take that last drink and it took some effort to keep my balance as I strutted away in the direction I presumed to be the loo. My friends were probably just as hazed as I was because they didn't notice I did not have my shoes on anymore. I for one did not notice or bother until something pricked my feet as I pushed my way through the crowd.

"f**k," I cursed quietly, feeling frustrated at the bodies pushing against me, making it difficult to find the bathroom. "Do you people never get tired?" I asked nobody in particular, not like anyone would hear me over the pounding of the music.

After finally finding the bathroom, I groaned in annoyance at the line in front of me. The tabloids would have a field day if it made the news that I peed myself waiting in line at a club. I could already imagine the headline.

Ex-girlfriend of Billionaire CEO Drey Carlson found soaked with urine while waiting in line—could she have OAB?

The thought made me snicker and I slumped against the wall, deciding to keep whatever was left of my dignity from the press and wait. The posture made my breasts nearly bulge out of the dress. Two months ago, it would have been the perfect opportunity to tease Drey and have him running over here in minutes, but right now it was only a wish. Nothing more. As an idea popped in my inebriated mind, I was thankful that I had given Ron my phone when we walked in earlier—the dress had no pockets—because if I hadn't, it would have been physically impossible to restrain myself from drunk texting Drey tonight.

Folding my hands across my chest, I sucked in a sharp breath, regretting it as the stench of vomit, urine, drinks, and cigarettes filtered through my lungs.

"Hey sexy," a gruff voice said from opposite me. I looked up to see one of the men waiting in line on the men's side. His eyes roamed my breasts hungrily as he flashed a dirty smile that revealed his stained, broken teeth. I rolled my eyes deciding to ignore him.

"What's tha name beautiful, the one in the black dress." he tried again and I realized he was talking to me, but still ignored him. "Wanna hang at my place tonight? You can get some of this right here," he cupped his junk and smirked.

I bit my lip in disgust, looking away to hold back from spilling the words I had for him as I wished more than anything for the line to move faster. "Come on b***h tell me how much to hit that fine ass tonight hey?" He sounded pissed this time, but not nearly as I did.

I turned to him, giving him a scorned look, and held up my middle finger, "f**k off."

"You stupid b***h," he growled and I barely registered his words, before he was lurching at me. He reached out to grab my arm and I moved to the side missing him. He tried again but this time, an imposing figure stepped in front of me, blocking me from the clearly drunk man.

I sighed in relief, thankful that one of my friends had decided to come check on me just in time. But a good look at his face told me it was not just one of my friends.

It was him.

And if I had any doubt about that, his next words refuted it completely. "Lay a finger on her and I promise you'll be leaving here in a body bag."