For the umpteenth time my eyes flicked through every item of clothing that I had left in my closet. Usually when hanging out with my friends the ordeal doesn't contain this much procrastination but I knew things were going to be different for me now.

I only had last seasons outfits and most of my dresses had already been seen at previous parties. Do you know how socially unacceptable it is to wear a party outfit more than once?

I pulled out a small black Christian Dior dress from last years collection, I wore it for Barnaby's party several months ago but it was plain and sleeveless with a belted waist so I figured it wasn't too remember-able and besides it was the best chance I had at not having my eagle eyed friends notice me re-wearing it. I paired it with a Valentino clutch bag and D&G six inch heels.

"You look beautiful Mia." My mom gasped, a fake smile masking the sorrow behind her eyes. I offered her a fake smile in return. I knew that deep down she was thinking the same thing as me, last years collection, a fully recycled look and the lack of professional hair and makeup was just the icing on top of the cake.

"Thanks," I muttered.

My eyes lingered on the front door, listening to the knocking echoing out into the dank hallway on the opposite side. I pictured his face and my stomach knitted together with anxiety.

"Are you going to let him in?" My mom asked weakly, even she didn't want him here, I could tell. I nodded and hovered my hand over the door knob, willing myself to pluck up the courage and face the judgement. Then I took a deep breath and pulled open the door.

"Mia!" He exclaimed, he launched at me, placing his hands either side of my head and looking me over. He seemed concerned about my safety, and I smiled at him, without opening my mouth. "God, this place is a dump!" He informed my mom and me.

He let go of my face and stepped away, his eyes floated everywhere and he held his limbs close to his body as if he was scared of touching anything.

Michael was my attractive boyfriend of two years. I wish I could say he was my shoulder to cry on, my biggest confidant and the one person in the world I felt truly safe with. Except if I said all of that, I would be lying. He was class president and running for valedictorian, a well respected member of our private school and together we were the power couple of East Side.

He lingered his gaze on our sofa and his nose twitched in disgust. I lowered my head, completely ashamed that he had to see this side of me.

"Michael, could I get you something to drink or eat maybe?" My mom remembered her hospitality amongst her embarrassment.

"Jesus, no chance. I'll end up in the emergency room needing my stomach pumped and sterilized eating in a place like this. How are you both surviving out here?" He continued casting his eyes around, not leaving a square inch of this apartment un-investigated by his judgmental eyes. My mom also lowered her head.

"Michael!" I scolded. He grabbed me and pulled me into a hug, he smoothed out my hair with his hand and pressed his lips against the top of my head. His smart stubble felt sharp pressing against me.

"I'm sorry, babe. I just didn't think things were this bad for you. It's an eye opener for sure, this house looks like it belongs on one of those poverty commercials." His voice wasn't sympathetic in the slightest, instead it was full of pity and he talked down to me like I were beneath him.

I glanced around my apartment, looking at what he was seeing. The carpet was dark brown and worn, it had been here from the previous tenants but although aged I don't think the condition was particularly bad. Our sofa was duck egg blue, with floral patterns that seemed like it belonged in an elderly retirement home. It was comfortable but dusty, smelly and needed throwing away in all honesty. The television was a small, bulky box that only worked perfectly when watching DVDs, other than that it struggled to maintain a clear picture.

The apartment in total had one longish living room, a tiny mustard-painted kitchen, a bathroom with only a drizzling shower and a bedroom my mom and I shared. I could see where Michael was coming from.

"We better get going, I haven't had my tetanus shot." He joked poorly. He grabbed my hand and led me out quickly, I shouted goodbye to my mom without looking back at her. I felt guilty she witnessed Michael's reaction, I should never have brought him here and paraded our struggles around.

I waited by the passenger door for him to open it up like he usually does but instead he just climbed in the car. I grabbed the handle myself and slipped my body inside. He didn't say anything, just kept his eyes straight ahead and turned the key.

"You didn't need to be so rude to my mom." I finally spoke through the thick silence of his silver Ferrari. He sighed deeply but didn't offer a reply. "Michael." I encouraged. "I said you didn't need to be so rude to my mom."

"Hmmm." He hummed deeply as a reply, not respecting me enough to give me a real answer or apparently eye contact.

"That's it?" I questioned. "You just came into my home and insulted both my mom and me, all you've got to say for yourself is a low mumble?"

"What do you want me to say Mia? I was only speaking the truth. I can't believe you called that place a home." He didn't take his eyes off the road and his tone indicated that he was bored of me.

"My mom is doing the best she can for me, she took me away from a toxic situation. She took herself away from a toxic situation. Do you know how much courage that would have taken?" He ignored me.

"Michael!" I raised my voice, trying to grab his attention. It didn't work. "Michael!" I tried again. "Look at me! Answer me!" He sighed in exasperation.

"I don't know why you're suddenly coming at me Mia. Your mom palmed you off for years with the nannies. You didn't even know her up until a few months ago when she split up with your dad. Let's not pretend she's mom of the year." He answered sternly, his voice raising in volume as well because it was evident that he was becoming increasingly pissed off with me.

"I'm not." I defended myself quietly. I'm well aware of my messed up family dynamics, I didn't need them pointing out to me by my own boyfriend.

"Anyway, let's just forget about it now babe. We're here and we don't want to ruin the night, do we?" Michael was all about keeping up pretenses, that's what our whole relationship consisted of. Smiling and holding hands whenever people were around, but disrespect and arguments whenever we were alone. I don't know how we've lasted this long, I just never had the guts the walk away.

I waited in the car for him to come around and open up my door, except he didn't. So I opened it myself, climbed out and slammed it closed, hard. He held his hand out and I intertwined our fingers walking up the port.

Big yachts lined up on still water, surrounded by wooden decking. I could hear the subtle music from inside the boathouse already and I squeezed Michael's hand tighter subconsciously. I felt nervous about walking in there and facing everybody that I used to attend East Side High with.

I wanted support and encouragement from him, to know that he was by my side emotionally and not just physically but as we neared the boathouse he broke the link between our two hands and left me awkwardly standing alone as he greeted his school friends.

I watched from afar as they tugged on the collar of his shirt, commenting on how nice he looked in his sweater vest and tailored blazer. I wrapped my arms around myself, partly to hide my outfit but also in a bid to comfort myself. Then Gabrielle noticed me and my heart sank.

Not her, anyone but her.