Lyvana woke up with a pounding headache.
Her head throbbed like someone was hammering inside it. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember how she'd ended up here. Another pulse of pain made her wince.
Two drinks. That's all she'd had. Two tiny glasses of whatever the bartender served.
How had that knocked her out cold?
She groaned.
"Lyvana… Lyvana… Lyvana," she muttered to herself.
Going out alone. Drinking alone. Almost getting attacked. How stupid could she be?
Then another memory surfaced.
The stranger.
Her hand moved to her lips without thinking, and her heart skipped a beat.
Some guy had kissed her and she had liked it.
After that, everything went blank. She must have passed out. She had no idea how she had gotten home.
She slowly pulled back the blanket and checked herself. Her clothes were still on. Everything felt normal.
No pain. No bruises. No signs anything bad had happened.
Relief washed over her. He had brought her home safely.
Lyvana sat up, and her head instantly protested. She groaned and held her temples, waiting for the room to stop spinning.
After a moment, she pushed herself to her feet and shuffled to the kitchen.
She took some painkillers from the cabinet, poured a glass of water, and swallowed them down. A little later, after a cup of coffee, the fog in her head began to lift.
That was when it hit her. Today was her engagement party.
The memory came back clearly, like it had just happened.
Mark had sent over some cheap off-the-rack dress, two sizes too big, like she was an afterthought.
She wore it because she didn't want to offend him. Only to arrive and meet cameras and the press. Obviously set up to humiliate her.
She had spent the whole night pressed into a corner with Emily, sipping champagne.
Meanwhile, Mark basked in the spotlight, laughing and charming the guests, his hand lingering far too long on Clarisse, who sparkled that night dressed in designer wear, every inch the untouchable socialite. While Lyvana was nothing but a shadow at her own engagement.
Lyvana went back to her room and opened her wardrobe. The same dresses stared back at her. They were plain. Dull. Lifeless.
Same old story. No taste. No style.
She closed the doors with a quiet sigh and walked into Emily's room. Emily was asleep, curled under the covers. She must have come in late.
Lyvana opened Emily's closet.
Nice dresses. Clean cuts. Soft colors. Clothes that actually had life in them.
Lyvana shook her head slightly.
"Well," she said under her breath, "it's time I went shopping."
"Did I hear shopping?" Emily's groggy voice floated from the bed as she cracked one eye open.
Lyvana smirked, glancing over her shoulder. "You heard right. Somebody's gotta rescue me from this fashion graveyard."
Emily yawned and stretched.
"You? Shopping? That's rich. Last time you went shopping you came home with three pairs of the same black jeans."
Lyvana shrugged, reaching for her phone. "Consistency is a lifestyle. But today, I'm in the mood for reinvention."
Emily sat up now, suddenly more awake. "Reinvention?"
"Emy, crack out the credit card cos I am changing my wardrobe."
"Ahhhhh!" Emily squealed, throwing her hands and legs in the air like a kid at Christmas.
"This is it. This is the moment I have been waiting for. My best friend is finally stepping into her main-character era," she declared.
Lyvana laughed at her silliness. Well if she was going to make any life changes she might as well start with herself. Turning, she caught sight of her face in the mirror and frowned. Her hair was dry and limp.
"I think I might need a makeover," she murmured, half a joke, half a cry for help.
Emily gasped like she'd just heard a royal decree.
She got out of bed, spinning Lyvana around with dramatic flair.
"Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you to say that? You, my darling, are officially under my command. Hair, clothes, nails, maybe even a splash of danger."
Lyvana laughed, shaking her head. "A splash of what?"
But Emily wasn't listening, she was already halfway dressed and rummaging for her purse like a woman on a mission.
"Wait, we haven't had any breakfast yet?" Lyvana called after her but she was already out the door.
Lyvana slipped her feet into her scuffed boots and grabbed her bag hurrying after her.
Soon enough, they walked into a café they normally frequent. The place was buzzing, but not packed. Lyvana felt uneasy the second she stepped inside. She had stopped coming here when Emily... died.
The two girls slid into a booth by the window.
A strikingly handsome man walked up, his apron doing nothing to hide how good he looked. Lyvana's eyes lingered before she could stop herself.
While Emily rattled off their order, the waiter flashed her a smile that could melt brick walls.
Get a grip, Lyvana. You don't need a man in your life right now.
"I want a chocolate muffin, a caramel latte, and a raspberry scone." Emily told him.
The handsome waiter scribbled it all down, then turned to Lyvana. "And you, miss?"
"Black coffee and toast," Lyvana replied quietly.
"What?" Emily gasped, eyes wide. "That won't cut it! She's having what I'm having," she said firmly, pointing at the menu and then at Lyvana.
The waiter's grin widened. "A double order of indulgence, coming right up," he said, jotting it down again.
"No one goes simple at a cafe this good. You have to make a statement."
Lyvana rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. "I don't want to make a statement. I'm fine being invisible."
Emily leaned across the table, lowering her voice. "Invisible? Babe if that guy over there..." she nodded subtly at the handsome waiter standing behind the counter, "...can make you blush this much, you're definitely not invisible."
Lyvana blinked, was she that obvious.
The waiter returned moments later, balancing a tray with precision. He set down their order with a playful bow.
"There you go," he said smoothly, "fuel for the brilliant miss and her beautiful friend."
Lyvana blushed even more.
"Thanks…" Emily told him then took a triumphant bite of her muffin. "Ah… this is the life," she sighed. "You're welcome, Lyvana. Reinvention starts with dessert first."