Zoe's POV
We were buzzed with excitement as Guz sped down the road like we had nothing to lose. The windows were down, the wind playing with our hair, and all that mattered was that we were dressed to kill—in custom Ashremode designs—heading to a party we never imagined we'd be invited to.
Guz's voluminous, naturally curly afro swayed in the wind. Medium-length, soft yet bold, it framed his face in a perfectly clean, edgy, and unapologetically him.
His outfit? A certified slay. Ashley had remodeled an old plaid jacket into a cropped blazer with velvet lapels, layered over a sheer black turtleneck that showed just the right amount of skin. The high-waisted flared pants elongated his frame, and the green loafers? That was definitely not Ashley, that was him. It was risky, but somehow flawless. The chunky rings around his neck caught the fading sunlight, and the retro shades he had on made him look like a fashion icon.
I'd feared he wouldn't like Ashley's pick for him as it was toned down compared to his usual love for floral shirts and anything with saturated color. But the green loafers tied it all together, syncing the outfit with his signature vibe. Ash definitely nailed it.
Ashley, on the other hand, was elegance wrapped in silk. Her navy-blue slip dress hugged her body like it was made for her. Her heels clicked with poise, and her hair was tucked into a loose, effortless bun. Simple, yet striking.
We looked amazing.
Guz's phone began to buzz—again and again. Someone was clearly desperate to reach him.
"You should answer that," I gestured toward his phone, which was in the seat crack.
He hesitated then picked it up, and the moment the voice on the other end shrieked through the speaker, the mood shifted. The tension was immediate. Whatever was said, it rattled him.
Without a word, Guz pulled over several blocks before our destination.
Ashley leaned forward. "Why are we stopping?" Her voice carried the same concern lifted in my chest.
Guz just smirked—a sly glint in his eye.
"What have you done, Guz?" I narrowed my eyes.
Before anyone could blink, a well-dressed man in a sleek black suit approached the car and tapped the hood. His face was unreadable, his movements precise. He didn't speak—he just extended his hand toward Guz.
Ashley rushed out of the car, heels wobbling beneath her, as she stumbled toward him. "Guz, what's happening?"
He's my mom's boyfriend's scary assistant or bodyguard. I don't know for sure, his expression showed indifference.
Oh my God! Ashley gasped. Unbelievable!
You told us he lent you the car. I can't believe you right now. She snapped.
The man didn't even acknowledge us. With a final stern glance at Guz, he took the keys, climbed into the Ferrari, and drove off.
"What just happened?" Ashley exploded, her voice rising again. "Now what?"
"I could call Seth," I offered weakly, "but he's probably tied up…"
"And Brandon? Absolutely not, I don't even have his number." I hissed.
Guz chuckled nervously, raising his palms. "Breathe…"
Ashley shot him a death glare. "Get us a taxi. Now."
"This was a terrible idea," she muttered under her breath, pacing. "I knew something would go wrong. I felt it."
Eventually, a taxi rolled up. We climbed in, the excitement from earlier fading into tight silence. None of us knew that losing the Ferrari was just the beginning.
By the time we arrived at the gated mansion, the sunset, nerves crept back in. We stepped out, announcing ourselves at the gate.
"We're here for the party," Guz said.
It felt like a fortress. Even from a distance, the house looked like a modern palace—a luxury penthouse disguised as someone's "home."
An elderly butler opened the door without a word and gestured for us to follow. We trailed behind him, our eyes wide soaked in the architecture. Arched glass panels, marble floors cascading balconies, and gold glowing lights.
As we neared the backyard, music pounded louder. The bass throbbed in our chests, and then—
We stepped into chaos. The shock of our lives.
The backyard was an explosion of color and sound, like a scene from an R-rated teen movie.
Music boomed from massive speakers, bass vibrating in the air. The pool sparkled beneath string lights, surrounded by floaties in different shapes like flamingos, pizza slices, and glittering donuts. Teens lounged on deck chairs, locked in intense kisses or shouting over the music with drinks in hand. Neon bikinis, wet swim trunks, oversized sunglasses—it was sensory overload.
On the far end, snacks and soda glistened under fairy lights swaying with the breeze. Somewhere near the deep end, a wild game of chicken fight broke out—bodies flailing, water splashing.
We stood at the entrance, frozen. Silent. Staring.
"I can't believe this…" Guz whispered. "It's a pool party. And no one told us?!"
I swallowed hard. Eyes—so many eyes—were turning toward us. Whispering. Snickering.
Ashley spun to face me, eyes wide. "What do we do now?"
I blinked, and my throat tightened. "Why are you asking me?"
"You're Chloe. You've been to parties like this! Help us out!"
I said nothing. My mind screamed only one thing: get out of here.
But then Guz, the ever-unbothered king, stepped forward. "So what if we didn't know? We're here now. And we look amazing."
His tone dripped sarcasm. "Didn't you say we were supposed to stand out?"
Ashley looked at him, annoyed—but then smiled. He was right.
"You're Guz," she said proudly.
We locked arms, walking further in with hesitant steps and high heads, pretending we didn't feel the heat of judgment surrounding us.
Then I saw him.
Jason.
Walking toward us from the pool, drops of water dripping down his bare chest, his swim shorts clinging to him. His hair was slick and wet, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Ashley made a strange sound beside me—something like a mixture of a soft gasp and a moan.
"Get a grip," Seth snapped behind her, clearly irritated.
Jason sauntered up to us, his energy calm and magnetic.
"Hey," he said, water dripping onto the pavement. "I should've told you—it turned into a pool party last minute. I'm sorry. But if you want, I can grab something more comfortable for you."
His eyes landed on Guz. Soft admiration flickered in his eyes "I love your outfit, by the way. It's… bold."
Guz smirked. "Well, maybe I'll change into something even bolder." He shot Jason a look, then walked off with him.
Ashley turned to me. "You sure you're okay staying in that dress?"
I shook my head. "I love it. I'm not changing."
She smiled, grateful. "You think I should change?"
I nodded. "Absolutely. You deserve to have fun. This is your first party—enjoy it."
Her eyes lit up. "Thanks," she whispered before slipping away toward the house.
I drifted toward a quiet spot near the pool, hoping to blend into the background. But in this dress? I was a walking spotlight.
Then they came.
Casey's "minions."
Fake smiles. Glittery nails. Malicious energy in lip gloss and heels.
"Hey," one said sweetly. "Love your outfit."
"Mind if we join you?" another asked.
"Sure," I said—too trusting, again.
Before I knew it, Jade tipped her drink. The cold splash soaked into the front of my dress.
"Oops! My bad," she said, one hand covering her fake-gasping mouth.
I stared at them, humiliated. Their laughter chased me as I walked away, heart burning. I hated myself for being too gullible.
Inside the house was a whole new circus—it felt like a different kind of party, every room was like a scene from a scandal. Kissing. Groping. Moaning. I opened doors only to shut them fast.
Finally, someone pointed me upstairs.
"Third door to your right," he said.
I climbed the staircase, one cautious step at a time, clutching my wet dress. At the door, I found a line. And it wasn't moving.
Just then, Jason appeared.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Someone spilled wine on me. I need to clean up."
Without hesitation, he said, "Follow me."
He led me to a sleek glass door.
"This is my private quarters. No one comes up here. You can stay as long as you like."
He smiled, and I nodded. "Thanks."
I was in the bathroom, blotting the wine stain, when I heard something—soft gasps, muffled voices.
Kissing?
I froze up. Jason said this area was off-limits.
Curious and terrified, I peeked through the door crack.
There, on the bed, was a blonde girl straddling a guy, both lost in their own world. She was giggling, hair cascading around her.
Then I heard it.
"You're so hot, Casey," the guy whispered.
Casey?
My eyes widened.
That voice—it wasn't Brandon.
Wait—Casey was cheating?
With who?
My heart thudded wildly.
Unbelievable.