"How is this, Mr. Carey?" The sales assistant brings Elizabeth in front of the mirror.

"Hm?" I look over it, the usual lacy black set that universally represents lust and scandal. "I like it...but not the color, not for her."

"No?" She says in surprise. "What color do you have in mind? A nice rouge, perhaps?"

I shake my head as my eyes scan over Elizabeth. She is still just as shy as she was when she auditioned for me. "Nothing dark," I reply while soaking in her timid features. I think her coyish demeanor gives off a kind of— innocent impression. It's oddly alluring to men, and we should play on that. "Show me your best pastels."

"Oh," The assistant nods, "right away, Mr. Carey."

I smile in response before she goes off to find more sets, when I turn back, Liz is glaring at me with her arms crossed.

I roll my eyes, "What now, Elizabeth?"

"What's wrong with this color?"

"It's not a good fit for you. Makes you look like you're trying too hard to be something you're not."

"Maybe because I'm not a stripper," she argued.

"No, it's because you're not sexy." Her face fell, and the defensive gleam in her eyes seemed to disappear with my words. I sigh, "I didn't mean it to come out that-"

"This was your bright idea, asshole. I never wanted to do this, and the only reason I haven't run away with the money is because I felt like I owed you," she shouts at me, "but if I'm not sexy enough for you then I'll gladly leave and hopefully never see your sorry, conniving, ego-driven-"

"Elizabeth," I stopped her from trying to leave the dressing area, "you've misunderstood me."

She scoffs, "There are only so many ways you can take being called unattractive."

"That's not what I said." Liz turns away from me, obviously not caring for an explanation. "You're clearly not going to go on that stage with a seductive look on your face ready to spin around and feel yourself up for cash. Girls like that don't look like phonies in black lace, okay?"

"Then go find girls like that. I quit!"

"Elizabeth!" I huff. "You're right, this was my idea. One that wouldn't have come to me if I didn't think you were attractive. I don't want you in black, or red, or fucking navy blue for that matter. You're sexy in a chaste...sinless way. I noticed that the first time you took your clothes off." She narrows her eyes but doesn't try to keep me from speaking. "You'll be a fantasy to the audience. They'll want to be the snake coaxing you to ruin it all and eat the forbidden fruit. It's men— there's just something about it."

"You're all creeps..." She side-eyes me.

"I am not a creep," I chuckle.

Liz scoffs in disbelief, "you're telling me that I look virtuous or whatever and men will pay at the idea of what— tainting me?"

"It's probably not what you're thinking," I shove my hands into my pockets, "but, I don't seem to be the best with words today."

"What is it then?" She raises an eyebrow in skepticism.

"You'll be working in a strip club, so how virtuous can you be? That's not the point. The idea is turning what appears to be this nice, sweet girl into your own little nymphomaniac. That's the fantasy, making a good girl crazy for you...and that's how you work the audience, only going bad for the guys who show you the most money."

"You are a creep."

"Yeah, well," I shrug, "you're more comfortable being half-naked when you're talking back to me."

She wraps her arms around herself at the reminder. "It's not like you're not used to seeing plenty of women this way."

"And that's why it'll be you up there in white and not me."

"Yeah?" I call out as I go to see who's knocking so urgently at my door. "What's up?" I say puzzled at the sight of Peyton.

"Hey, Leo." She sighs, "is Zach here?"

"No...is everything alright? What's wrong?" I ask in concern.

"Nothing, he just has some chores he skipped out on, and if my mom comes back before-"

"I meant with you. Were you crying?" I take notice of her puffy eyes and general defeated expression.

"God, you can tell?" She sulks.

"What made you cry?"

Peyton looks at me and shakes her head as her eyes start to fill again. She starts to crumble and wraps her arms around me before completely falling apart. "He broke up with me," she cried, "he dumped me over the phone for some girl named Nancy he met in a coffee shop."

"Ah," I nod in understanding, "the doctor."

"Wannabe doctor," she pulled away to correct me, "if he could even pass his exams. You know he said I wasn't supportive enough? I stayed up for hours helping him study stupid medical terms I could hardly pronounce, but I'm not supportive?" Peyton said in exasperation. "What the hell does Nancy do?"

I watched her sob at the thought of this other girl. "...Let me get you a tissue or something," I suggest. "Here, come in."

She nods and heads over to the couch while I grab the box of tissues from off the counter.

"Thanks," she said solemnly.

"No problem."

"You know what the worst part is?" She looks up at me but doesn't actually expect me to know the answer. "I don't know what to do without him now. I was supposed to stay here and take classes until he got back and then we were going to move in together. If that's not going to happen— then why did he make me stay?"

I shake my head, "you don't need him, you're better off. If he can plan a future with someone and then drop them the second a cute coffee shop girl looks his way...then you're better off. He was never in it for the long run."

"She probably is cute, huh?" Peyton starts to cry harder.

"No no, of course not," I say quickly, "she's garbage, gross, nothing compared to you."

"Yeah, right," she said in disbelief.

"I am right, but you don't need me to tell you you're amazing. I bet no one he dates will ever hold a candle to Peyton Teeling."

"Then why would he want her?"

"Because he's an idiot."

She looks up at me, still sad...but maybe a little more hopeful than she was before.

'Too hopeful,' I think to myself as she leans in to kiss me.

"Uh-" I move before she reaches me. "...Hey," I laugh awkwardly as I back away from her.

"I'm sorry?" Peyton says confusedly.

"No, it's okay," I stand up from the chair. "I just don't think we should do that..."

"Oh..."

I begin to ramble, "It's not that you're not great, I mean, you're Peyton— you know you're great but..."

"But you don't want me anymore either," she says aloud to herself as if she's trying to figure out what's going on.

It's funny, I had wanted you from the day I first saw you.

But Heather calls me 'baby' now

And that means so fucking much to me.

"Peyton, I'm really sorry...this just isn't a good time."

"I should leave," she says mindlessly.

"Yeah, sure," I step out of the way.

"If you see Zach-"

"I'll let him know you're looking for him."

She gives me a half-hearted smile, and I turn away as she leaves, not even waiting for the door to fully shut before I grab the phone.

Never in a million years did I think there could be a me and Peyton.

And never in a trillion years did I think I'd say no.

"Hello, you reached Heather. Leave a message, and I'll get back to you."

"Uh— you don't have to call me back, butterfly. I just wanted to hear your voice, and I think your answer machine counts. The weirdest thing just happened to me..." and now that I think about it, you probably wouldn't want to know. "Actually, it's not important." I chuckle, "I guess I just miss you already. It's dumb...I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Goodbye."

"This is my dress," Audrey shows us where it's hanging. "I got it tailored this morning. It'll be the nicest at the ball, I'm sure."

"It's beautiful," Alison nods.

"Do you remember last year's ball? All those god awful, off-white dresses," Audrey cringes.

I jokingly roll my eyes, "they're allowed."

"So, what? Are they not embarrassed to look like used napkins?" I laugh at her comment and furrow my eyebrows. "I promise, Heather, if you show up in egg-shell, I won't talk to you the whole night."

I'll remember that for future avoid Audrey needs.

"Are you bringing your dates to my deb party?" Alison questions.

"You're such a sweetheart, Ali," Audrey fawns smugly, "having a party though you're not even a debutante."

"Isn't your cousin one this year?" I interject before they can further insult each other.

"Mhm," she nods. "That's what the party is for. But you don't have to go, Audrey. I understand if you can't find anyone who wants to escort you."

"Not likely," Audrey narrows her eyes at her, "I'll definitely have an escort. The best— for your information."

"Really?" I say in intrigue.

"Obviously, we need to go above the basic batch of Manhattan traitors if we want decent escorts," Audrey explains. "Any guy who would enthusiastically take the hand of— miss Tennessee or whoever rather than one of us, is not worthy."

"Isn't that a bit dramatic?" I ask cautiously.

She scoffs, "sure, Heather, it's dramatic to not want to go with a guy who will say 'yes' to anyone with cleavage."

"That sounds like every guy," Alison says under her breath.

"And, though that's the smartest thing you've ever said," Audrey commends, "there are ways to get around that."

"What ways?" I say doubtfully.

"If he's important enough, he can't go out with these alley rats clawing their way through New York. It'll ruin his reputation."

"Why can't we bring someone we'll have fun with?" I suggest.

"Because we're not children. This isn't about fun," Audrey glares. "It's about making a statement."

"It is broadcasted, Heather..." Alison warns.

"I know," I shrug, "why should that mean anything to me?"

"Because you can't go with just anyone," she replies. "Trevor can be your escort if you really can't think of anyone nice, he won't mind."

"No...that's fine," I sigh.

"I will either have Vick Carver or Gregory Mindel. You can have the one I leave behind," Audrey shrugs.

"Thanks, but I know someone else I can ask."

"Anyone we're familiar with?" Alison raises an eyebrow.

I look over at her, and she returns my gaze with a cautioning expression.

"No...no, he goes to St. James. My parents introduced us, they'd love it if we went together."

Alison sighed in what seemed to be relief.

"He sounds boring," Audrey says indifferently.

"Does that matter?" I snark, "he's upper class, that automatically makes him marriage potential, right? Let alone a good escort."

Alison shrugs and gives me an empathetic smile, "well...that's how it's meant to be, Heather. It's better not to make a mess."

"This thing is so annoying," Naomi fixes her crooked nose ring in the mirror sat on the counter.

"Maybe it's too big," Riley states.

"The hoop?" Naomi asks.

"No, your nose," he responds through laughter, and she turns to push him away from her. "It was a joke, come here, give me a kiss," he reaches out for her teasingly, not bothering to stop laughing first. "Come here," Riley persists.

"Get away from me, you dick," she shrugs him off while trying to hide her amusement.

I shake my head at the sight and continue around the fragrance counter.

"Can I help you with something?" I look up at the sound of a voice.

Zach did say you worked here...

"No, thank you."

"You look familiar," Marcia scrutinizes me with a smile. "You're friends with my son, aren't you?"

I smile back at her and nod, "I know Zach."

"You see, I'm good with faces," she says proudly, "and I've only ever seen you one time."

"Zach and I don't hang out much anymore," I admit. "How is he though?"

"He's good as far as I can tell— I haven't heard any complaints, but I'll let him know you asked."

"Um...maybe you shouldn't," I say worriedly.

"Why not? He'd be happy to hear it," Marcia replies cluelessly.

"We've fallen out...I guess," I try not to sound as weird as I feel. Why am I talking to his mom about this?

"Really?" She says in surprise. "He usually tells me about things like that."

"It wasn't a big deal," I say when I see the sad look on her face, "we just kind of...stopped."

"Well, between you and me, Zach is a really simple kid. If you say you're sorry and buy him a slice of pizza, he'll be good to go."

I chuckle at her advice. "I don't know, I don't think he wants to be my friend anymore."

"Did you ask?"

"...no," I say lowly.

"Do you want to know?"

That depends on the answer...

I press my lips into a line, "It was nice seeing you again, Ms. Teeling."

"I hope everything works itself out," she says kindly.

"Me too," I nod and almost begin to walk back to where my friends are but stop at the thought of something else. "Hey...can I ask you one more thing?"

"Of course."

"Have you met Aaron?"

"...who?"

I smile, "never mind."