| CHAPTER 1 |
| "Britt! C'mon girl we're gonna be late!" "Gracie please! The club doesn't close until 2. We've got plenty of time." Brittnee was in her bathroom trying to finish straightening her hair. Tonight she is sporting a brand new black leather Gucci mini skirt, fishnets, a couple chains, black knee-high boots, a black halter, and a new hair style. She calls it the Christina Aguilara 'Come on over' look-blonde on top with red underneath. Gracie sticks her head in the doorway, "I know you are pissed but do you really have to take all fuckin' night?" "I'm not pissed." "Yes you are. Its not your fault Monroe is a loser. Its not like you pick the guys you date," she says sarcastically. "It just wasn't dating. We had been going out together for 3 1/2 months. Tell me that's just dating. No guy stays around for that long unless feelings are involved." Gracie puts her hands on her hips and stares at Brittnee. "Okay, or if they are just there for the ass. That's not why Monroe and I were together. It was great and it didn't suck so I don't know why that dick didn't stay." "He wasn't worth it! You know that." Brittnee finished her hair and put some finishing gel on it and turned toward Gracie. "He's gonna be at A.T. tonight." "So that's why the new hair and clothes. Show him what he's missin'. He's gonna be beggin' to come back. Are you gonna let him?" "I'm not for sure yet." "What?! After what he did? I'd be like 'Shoot that boy ain't never touchin' me no mo' ya'll hear me?'" "Well, as of right now I'd love to wake up at his place in the morning but I'll have to see how he acts tonight. Maybe we can work something out." "You shouldn't go back to that, Britt. He's nothing but heartache." "I know, G, but it's been over a month and sometimes you just gotta sacrifice for sex, ya know?" Gracie laughs. "You crazy!" ~*~*~*~ The girls arrive at their favorite nightclub, and weekend hangout, Atlantic Taxi. They have been going there for about 2 years. It has 3 dance floors, 10 pool tables on the second floor, and a lounge on the third floor. On Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays maximum capacity is reached. People come from all over the country to dance and hangout there. The bartenders are the best, the atmosphere is the greatest, and the celebrities party like there is no tomorrow. Brittnee and Gracie enter the club without waiting in line. They have been going there for so long that they know everyone. The first place they go to is the bar throw down a few drinks. As soon as their drinks arrive, Gracie raises her glass for a toast. "Thank God its Friday!" "Here's to a night of revenge!" A couple of drinks later and the girls head to the dance floor. Packed as usual but they make their way in and have some fun. A few moments later a guy comes up behind Brittnee and starts dancing with her. She turned around to see him and saw it was Monroe. She made a disgusted face, pushed him away and walked away. She stormed back to the bar and ordered another drink. As soon as she got it she turned around quickly and a guy bumped her drink out of her hand and onto her skirt. "Mother fucker!" "Oh man, I'm sorry," he said as he handed her a napkin. "I'll buy you a new drink." "I don't care about the drink. I care about my brand new Gucci skirt. This was real leather, you know?!" She took the napkin and another handful and started scrubbing her skirt. "Ugh! It's ruined! Shit!" "Well I can buy you a new one. What size are you?" Brittnee looks at him and laughs. He's wearing a black tank top, with an over shirt with the sleeves torn off and dirty looking jeans. Not wealthy looking at all, well, wealthy enough to buy her a new skirt. "You couldn't afford it, buster. It costs more than your car payment." She motioned for the bartender to make her another drink and got it right away. "Hey listen," she said as she headed up the stair to the pool hall. "I appreciate you trying to help but you can't. My skirt is too much and it serves me right for wearing a designer. So just take your little check book and buy yourself another tattoo to match all your others." As soon as they got to the top of the stairs she waved for him to leave and she met up with some of the bartenders on that floor. A couple hours later, Brittnee was sitting in the lounge talking to a guy she had just met when Monroe interrupted. "Can I talk to you?" Brittnee excused herself and pushed him away from the couch. "What do you want?" "What's your problem?" "My problem? I don't have a problem. What's yours? You're the one that ended us. So can't I decide if we dance or not?" "There was no us, Britt! We were just friends. I told you that." "Fuck you, Monroe! Friends don't have sex, okay! That's not what friends do. Friends talk, hang out, go out. The whole meaning of friends is everything but sex and passion. That's what we had. If you want to make something up about what we were, go ahead, but we weren't friends." The two just stood and looked at each other for a few minutes. Monroe smiled, "You look really good. I love your hair that color." He brushed the hair away from her face and she smiled back at him. "Do you have to work tomorrow?" "I should," she said as she held his hand. "But I don't have to." "You wanna get out of here?" "Sure," Brittnee said as Monroe put his arm around her waist. Chapter 2 Featured Stories Main Page |