The neon lights dance around as bodies swarm the dance floor, ready to kick start the night on a high-note. It's not as packed as I thought it will be; I can head-count thirty people who are all my classmates. Paris and I arrive at the hotel's indoor club-Nirvana-in record time and she immediately runs to the dance floor after I tell her that I'm really not in the mood to dance. I'm not an introvert per se, I just don't do well with large gatherings, or people, or…dancing.

The only way my ass is dancing on that floor is if I have some liquor in me, and I don't plan on drinking tonight.

As my eyes hover around the area, I recognize a few of my classmates, some of them dancing in the middle of the square shaped dance floor, others heading towards the bar to have a drink or two…or five, and then there are the ones who got right into making out at a corner-Jason Blunt being one of them.

It may be dark, save for the neon lights, but I can recognize those high cheekbones, tall gait and chestnut hair from a mile away. It's him, and he has his tongue down the throat of some girl which I swear is not Mariah. I stare at the pair for a while and feel a pang in my chest, but I ignore it and head towards the bar. The bar is located in a different section of the club, but not completely far away from the noise and high-tempo EDM song playing on the dance floor. Plopping my butt on the stool, I observe the high-schoolers who are twisting, jiving, grinding and having a good time. My lips curve into a smile when I see that Paris is actually dancing with none other than Ryan. He has his hands on her waist and she's leaning into him as the song moves their bodies to the rhythm.

''So, want a drink?''

I turn my attention to the boy smiling at me and I shake my head in the negative. ''No, I'm good.''

''You sure?''

''Yes, Jacob. I'm positive.''

Jacob is a fellow classmate of mine. I usually catch a glimpse of him in class, in the hallway or at lunch, but we've never actually talked before. He looks a lot like Jason-the facial features, the gait, the aura-it's all similar. If they didn't have different last names, then I would've thought they are related in some way.

''So, you're on bar duty tonight?'' I ask coyly.

He grabs a glass and cleans it with a white cloth. ''Yea. Jason asked me to since I have experience with this sort of thing.''

''You've worked at a bar before?'' I thought rich kids never worked a day in their life.

''You can say that. My dad owns a few nightclubs around the world, so I worked at one of his clubs last summer and kinda learnt how to run a bar and mix drinks.''

''That's actually impressive.''

''Thank you.''

''Jason is paying you for doing this, right?'' It looks like hard work manning a bar all by himself all while attending to soon-to-be-drunk and horny teenagers.

''No, I don't need the money.'' Must be nice. ''Besides. I owe Jason, so this is my repayment.''

I nod in understanding. ''I see.''

''So, why aren't you dancing with your friend, Paris?''

''The whole club scene isn't my thing,'' I confess. ''The only reason why I'm here is because Paris dragged me, literally. Also, I have to keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn't go overboard.''

''I feel you. I'm not really into it myself.'' He motions to the dance floor where Paris, Ryan and a few other people are doing a choreographed dance to Meghan Thee Stallion's 'Savage'. ''Looks like she's having the time of her life there.''

That she is.

''How do you know my friend is Paris?'' I don't remember mentioning it to him and we haven't even had a conversation up until this very moment.

''It's a private school, Melody,'' his baritone voice answers as he takes a seat on a stool. ''Everyone knows everyone here, and in case you haven't noticed, you're on everyone's radar because of Jason. Your fights are literally on the tip of everyone's lips.''

I feign innocence at the observation. "I didn't realize I was that popular.''

He nods. ''You are, and Paris is popular by association.''

Don't highschoolers have anything better to do than talk about Jason and I?

''Don't look so bummed,'' Jacob encourages. ''If it makes you feel any better, I'm on your side. I've known Jason since we were kids and he can be a real asshole, but he's alright. He just needs that one person to call him out on his bullshit and you're doing an excellent job.''

That's the same thing Ryan said. ''Well, if I'm getting this many compliments, it means I'm doing something right.''

''You are, but lay it easy on him sometimes.'' His eyes droop down and his face turns into a frown. ''He may not show it but he's been through some things in life.''

My mind reverts back to the night Jason came knocking at my door looking like a sight for sore eyes. What could he possibly have been through in life that could be described as 'a lot'? As far as I knew, he has rich parents, lives in a mansion, and is going to a private school. He drives luxury cars and can even afford to rent a whole club for the night. Not to mention, he doesn't have to work long hours a week and on weekends just to afford shit and doesn't come from a single parent household.

He can trade places with me gladly and see what it means to go through 'a lot.'

''I don't exactly know what he's been through, but whatever it is, God help him…I think.''

''He just needs a little bit of understanding.''

''Hey, Jake,'' a masculine voice calls out from the stool next to me. ''Can I have a Dark and Stormy and a French 75?''

''Coming right up.'' He excuses himself and turns his back to me, making the drinks as requested.

''You're here too?'' I roll my eyes at the familiar, nasal, high-pitched voice who is about to ruin my night.

''I was invited, Mariah. Why wouldn't I be here?''

She was scantily clad in a scarlet dress that had cut outs on each side and was way too short. If she bends down, I'm pretty sure I will be able to see her underwear, that's if she even wore underwear.

''Why would Jason invite you?''

''In case you haven't noticed, we're actually in the same room.'' Her caked-up face looks horrified and she gasps. ''You're lying.''

I was in denial too when I heard about it.

''What do I gain from lying?'' I shrug. ''If you want you can ask him.'' My mind remembers Jason kissing some other girl and I add. ''You know, he was just round the corner shoving his tongue down some other girl's throat.'' I motion towards the dance floor when I spot him dancing with the same girl from earlier on. ''Look, Mariah, he's dancing with her. I could've sworn you told me he wasn't just a fuck buddy.''

Her red lips quiver a bit and I see a stray tear fall down her cheeks but she quickly wipes it away with her hands. Genuinely, I feel bad for her, not because of what I said (that was nothing but the bitter truth) but I know she has feelings for Jason and that sucks for her because he's a player; he would never settle for her, or anyone really. Mariah is just another notch on his belt and the sooner she realizes that, the better.

''Hey, can I have a Gimlet?'' she orders and sits on a stool. Her eyes look cloudy and for the first time, she actually looks like a human being with emotions. I didn't think she was capable of feeling, but I guess her history with Jason is a soft spot for her.

''Here you go.'' Jacob hands her the iced-drink and she throws it back in one gulp. She catches me staring and scowls. ''What are you looking at?''

''Nothing, really. I just want to advise you: Jason is a player, and he's probably shagged every girl in this school, you included. Why don't you just build a bridge and get over him with your head held high? You're a beautiful woman and you're smart too.'' She opens her mouth to speak but I stop her. ''I've seen your class rank, Mariah. You are in the top ten.''

Shocking as it may seem, Mariah actually has a brain underneath the villainous personality. Our class rank is usually pasted on the notice board after our exams with our names on it for everyone to see. She is number ten in our class of fifty students.

''Jason isn't the right guy for you and it's about time you realize it. You may not like me, but I hate to see a fellow woman cry over a guy that's not worth the salt.'' I hand her a tissue from my purse and she surprisingly accepts it and dabs her eyes. ''Just smile and move on.''

As she nods her head, I realize that I need to take my own advice.