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Chapter 29

Many people push me. I hate it.

The music is bad. Hatred.

The colorful lights blind me. I hate them.

But if there's something I don't hate at this party, it's alcohol.

A waiter walked past me with a tray full of cocktails. I followed him with a thirst to try them, I don't drink, I'm not addicted to drinking, but since my birthday party I got a taste for them. I know how to stop in time, consider me a girl who drinks moderately. She always responsible never drunk.

“Eh-Eh,” Abby hisses, snatching the glass from me, “No alcohol tonight.”

I growl, crossing my arms at her protective mom attitude.

“I hate these kinds of parties.” I mutter heading to the bar, I sit down and entertain myself with the Bar tender's semi-marked abs. A beautiful view.

“What do you hate specifically?”

Oh, Abby. Everything... but above all...

“These fake people with fake smiles and double intentions, you know appearances and social potions are what count here. If you don't have an influential last name you are nobo
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