Ricky was in a bad mood. It was early in the evening as he stood outside the big hotel in midtown, where the First Dance was to be held, smoking a cigarette and waiting for Sebastian to show up.

He didn't want to be there though. In fact, he could see the tall building where he lived with his father, just south of Central Park, from where he stood. But the idea of going home was out of the question. Not when his dad was acting as a particular ass at the moment.

Ricky had been kept up most of the night because his father, Fred, had been banging a chick with an impressive set of lungs all night, which in turn had made it impossible for Ricky to fall asleep. Something that really pissed him off because he had a piano lesson early that morning.

Sleep-deprived and irritated, he had gotten up—having set and reset his alarm to get as much sleep as possible.

Knowing his father was still sound asleep, Ricky turned the volume up high on his stereo before hitting play. The sound of heavy metal came blasting through the speakers at once, making them vibrate against the walls. It felt immensely satisfying.

He dug a cigarette out of a pack and slid open the panoramic glass door to the long balcony that lined the penthouse's top floor, standing in the opening in nothing but his underwear, breathing in the morning air. He lit the cigarette with a satisfied grin, enjoying the sweet sound of revenge.

It didn't take long before Fred was standing on the other side of the bedroom door, hammering on it to be heard over the growling music. "Turn that fucking shit down, Ricky!"

"Go fuck yourself!" Ricky shouted back, regretting it immediately as he carefully lay a hand over his bruised and darkened ribs, pain traveling through them from the strain.

Fred tried the doorknob, but, of course, the door was locked. Ricky always kept it locked whenever he was home. He'd even applied two safety chains to make sure his father couldn't enter without his permission—something he had learned was necessary years ago because his dad kept a spare key to Ricky's bedroom hidden somewhere.

Fred yelled some more profanities and kicked the door angrily before giving up, going back to the master bedroom at the other end of the long hallway, slamming the door shut.

When Sebastian finally showed up at the hotel, he came without supplies, to Ricky's great disappointment. "Why the fuck didn't you bring any? I haven't smoked all day," he complained.

"Because a search and seizure isn't exactly my perception of a good time," Sebastian reasoned, looking at Ricky with furrowed eyebrows. "And maybe it's a good thing," he added, arching a brow challengingly. "It sounds like you can't handle your shit."

"Fuck you," Ricky mumbled irritated. He stumped out his cigarette, popping a breath mint into his mouth, and walked toward the hotel's entrance. Sebastian shook his head resignedly, following him inside.

They were standing in front of the large double doors leading into a big ballroom made up like a classic casino. Tables for card games, craps, and the roulette had been lined up. No actual money would be in play because gambling wasn't actually allowed, of course. Instead, the money each student had chosen to donate when they bought their tickets was converted into a number of chips—depending on the amount. All of the profit from the ticket sale went to the night's chosen charity.

The place was buzzing with students dressed for the evening—girls in high heels and pretty summer dresses among boys in summer blazers and button-up shirts. Ricky blended in nicely with his classic and preppy light-blue blazer that matched the icy-blue in his eyes. Sebastian did not. Being his usual self, he wore a blazer in a colorful African pattern of red, orange, and yellow.

Ricky felt a pair of arms sneak around his torso then and stiffened, biting down the pain caused to his bruised ribs. The strong painkillers he had taken seemed to have no effect at all.

"Hey, sweetie," Claudia whispered in Ricky's ear, trying to sound seductive, hugging him from behind.

Ricky jerked his head away. "Let go." He took hold of Claudia's wrists and tugged lightly to pry her arms off of him. But instead of doing what he asked, Claudia tightened her grip around him and pressed even harder onto the bruise.

"Let. Go," Ricky snarled through clenched teeth, trying to take control of not only the pain but his quickly rising temper, breathing in through his nose.

"Banks, do as he says," Sebastian warned calmly but firmly, seeing the signs of Ricky's building anger.

"Do you guys wanna come with Becca and me to a club after this?" Claudia asked as she moved in front of the guys with her cousin, Rebecca, both dressed in small party dresses. As always, Claudia was wearing pink.

"I'll refrain," Sebastian simply declined, searching the large ballroom with his gaze for any sight of Roxie.

"You've got better plans?" Claudia challenged, crossing her arms under her ample cleavage.

"A plan that doesn't involve you is always a better plan," Sebastian said dryly, making Ricky laugh to his big regret, holding a hand gently over his ribs to soothe them.

"You are such fucking assholes." Claudia gave both boys an irritated look, linking her arm with Rebecca's, going into the ballroom.

A large group of loud guys in their mid-twenties caught Ricky and Sebastian's attention as they came down the big hallway then, heading into the large room next to where the First Dance was held. They both noticed a hanging banner inside the doors that read 'Game Over' with a drawing of a cartoon bride dragging an unwilling groom along the ground.

Ricky smiled at Sebastian. "How about we skip the dance and crash a bachelor party?"

Sebastian chuckled but nodded his head at the doors to the First Dance when their names were called from behind.

Mitchell, a redhead who always had his hair sleeked back with too much product. Atticus, the son of famous model and actor parents. And Cole, their unofficial leader wearing his signature round horn-rimmed glasses, walked up to them.

"Ready to do some damage?" Atticus asked, looking expectantly from Ricky to Sebastian and back with a smile. He was a good-looking guy with the characteristic scar from a harelip running between his top lip and left nostril.

For some reason, he and the two others had always assumed the five of them were buddies because the rest of the student body considered them part of the popular boys. A belief neither Sebastian nor Ricky shared since they preferred to keep to themselves. However, Ricky did entertain the idea from time to time because hanging out with them usually meant getting wasted.

He didn't offer a response though, and Sebastian merely gave a casual shrug.

"Listen." Cole stepped up to Ricky, almost standing on his toes, which caused Ricky to take a step back, irritated. "If you wanna do some real damage, I've got some good stuff."

Ricky looked at Sebastian, raising a straight eyebrow as if to say, 'and you were too pussy to bring anything.' He looked back at Cole. "You brought Mary Jane?"

"What are we, twelve?" Mitchell intervened and leaned in toward Ricky too. "We've got some premium snow," he said in a low voice.

"I don't do that shit," Sebastian declined, "I'm going in." He headed inside the ballroom.

"What about you? You're never one to say no to a little party." Cole nudged Ricky's arm with his elbow, showing him a small dark glass vial hidden in his hand with a self-satisfied smile.

"I don't know." Ricky felt tempted, running a hand through his hair and making the already messy quiff look even more tossed. "Maybe not tonight," he decided with reluctance and followed Sebastian into the ballroom.

With the painkillers, he'd already taken, and the alcohol he was planning on consuming, adding cocaine to the mix was probably not the greatest of ideas.

"Suit yourself," Atticus sing-songed after him.

Ricky got his stack of chips and ordered a coke, which he immediately spiked with some of the content of the flask in his inner pocket, before looking for Sebastian. He found him standing with Lincoln Magnussen by one of the tall cafe tables spread throughout the room.

"Hey."

"Oh, hey. Linc, this is Frederick, Ricky, this is Lincoln. You remember him from the Banks party? He's Roxie's brother," Sebastian reminded. "We're on the water polo team together."

Ricky shrugged a shoulder. He wasn't allowed on any of the school's sports teams. Since he was known for having a quick and erratic temper, it was one of the conditions his father had had to agree to—besides paying an increased fee—when Ricky was enrolled at St. Aquinas.

"Don't we have Spanish together? With Mrs. Holbrook?" Lincoln found it peculiar Ricky didn't seem to remember him still. Each class at school was pretty small, and Lincoln tended to stand out because of his height.

"Maybe. I've been drinking a little between classes. Had a shitty week," Ricky confessed. "Haven't really been paying attention, if I'm being honest."

"Oh." Lincoln looked surprised by Ricky's laid-back attitude toward being drunk in school, his thick dark eyebrows raised. "You didn't seem drunk," he offered, at a loss for what else to say.

"That's because I'm a motherfucking pro." Ricky smiled charmingly, toasting his glass, and took a drink. As if this was a cue, Sebastian scooted his drink over to Ricky for him to spike. Lincoln, following the motion with his gaze, was quick to take Sebastian's lead.

"So, are you guys ready to lose a game of poker to me?" Lincoln asked a little too loudly, trying to make it seem like nothing was going on, and carefully checked that no one was looking.

Ricky stopped unscrewing his flask to look at Sebastian with a quizzically raised eyebrow, not convinced if Lincoln was cool.

Sebastian shook his head, forbearing. "You think you can beat me?" he challenged, thinking Lincoln might as well find out on his own that he, as good as never, lost in cards. Having an IQ high above average, Sebastian's mind automatically kept track of what had been played.

"I'm not just gonna beat you, I'm gonna whoop your ass," Lincoln professed with confidence, smiling broadly, which made a deep dimple appear in his right cheek, showing a visible gap between his front teeth.

"Bring it." Sebastian toasted his freshly spiked soda.

Josephine took the low stage at the end of the ballroom then, welcoming all of them and thanking the Social Committee for putting the event together. She reminded everyone that the First Dance was an opportunity for them to have fun together outside of school and get to know all the new students while also helping their local community through charity. She proceeded to talk about the evening's good cause: a youth help center.

As she talked, Ricky excused himself, taking his time to find a restroom farther away than the ones just outside the ballroom to prolong his time away from Birch's tedious speech. He found one around the corner, a little way down a long corridor, and bumped into Cole, Mitchell, and Atticus coming out of a stall, sniffing and wiping under their noses.

"Changed your mind?" Cole asked, holding up the glass vial. Ricky shook his head no.

They all returned to the ballroom together, where the sound of a somewhat mumbled version of 'Happy Birthday to You' greeted them. Ricky looked around for a second to make sure they had entered the right room.

"Who's the babe next to the weird new girl?" Atticus asked, looking toward the low stage where Josephine had been joined by two other girls: one in a little black dress, the other in a deep-blue dress that hugged her body in all the right places.

"If she's a freshman, I call dibs," Mitchell quickly declared, getting a light punch on the arm from Atticus. "Ow. Jerk," he complained, rubbing his bicep.

"I think..." Cole tilted his head, adjusting his round glasses. "That's Clumsy Casini," he concluded, sounding a little surprised.

Ricky looked closer at the girl in the blue dress with elegantly curled brown hair, realizing Cole was right. "Whoa," he said softly, raising a brow and letting his gaze wander down her body. He liked this new look for Casini, showing off her figure. The type of school uniforms the girls wore didn't reveal much, so seeing her like this was a pleasant surprise.

"Who would have guessed she's actually pretty good-looking? Atticus commented. "Especially without those dorky glasses."

"Right?" Cole agreed as they all checked her out. "Since when did she get a body like that?"

"I still call dibs," Mitchell said vigorously, stepping into the crowd, the rest of them following.