The Alpha Is My Gym Instructor

♥Camille's POV♥

A broken newly bought iPhone 13 is not a pretty sight.

A naked woman on top of your fiance is not a well-settling view.

Your boyfriend wearing a chef's apron and a cap while getting spanked is not an eye-pleasing scene.

But do you want to know what is worse? Try getting body-shamed and bullied by your rather unapologetic boyfriend with callous eyes and nonchalant moves towards your plight.

_

I was still shocked by the horrible, stomach upsetting, and the gruesome scene before me that I didn't realize when the new phone I picked from the apple store for the sole purpose of writing went crashing on the floor and stole everyone present in the room's attention yet they were both unaware of my appearance, the both of them lost in the act while I remained inconspicuous. I had saved for months and requested an advance payment in order to get what I have desired for months now. But my trembling hands were far too jelly to hold anything in place, especially since the relationship I thought I had handled was slipping right in front of me and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

My head was clouded, my mind ran hay-wire, and my heart was beating thunderously that I feared it might rip out of my rib cage and I would slum and die without Bonnie and Clyde even noticing, and just like they could read my thoughts, the moans intensified. I could barely contain it anymore.

My blood ran cold. This shouldn't be happening right now and right here. It couldn't be. Jack was meant to be at work. He was supposed to be meeting with an important client, closing this major deal he has been fronting about for months, talking about how rich we would become with millions of dollars entering our joint account while we secured our future.

To say I was disappointed was an understatement, I was fucking furious that the crusty ass motherfucker would dare hurt me this way. Seeing his face sandwiched in between two fat bum cheeks with slimy contents dripping directly into his mouth burned into my brain. A scene that will be needing me to bang my head against the wall repeatedly to get a concussion because frankly speaking, that would save my fragile heart than me being mentally tormented for how long precisely? Twenty-four hours? Weeks? Months? Or even years, seeing that my three-year relationship just went down the drain.

The blonde continuous cries of pleasure jerked me out of my reverie. She was facing the door, straddling him with her head thrown back and her back arched like a bow. Her mouth was wide open, letting out a hard pitch and as if that wasn't enough, she moaned out loudly.

"Yes, Jack the panty ripper, fuck me harder than you did during last year's end of the year party."

Jack growled with utmost zeal and flipped her over like a pancake and then he muttered. "I'm about to cum my skinny little princess."

Okay, there was something obviously wrong with this pair. First and foremost, who screams in bed like that? Only delusional sick bastards moan that way and then what the hell was she wearing? Leather straps as lingerie? Is that the latest fashion trend because I would like to remain in the dark and return to my soft silky Lacy lingeries. From the constant humping and moaning like donkeys, I knew the woman sounded and looked familiar. She was the same Secretary that always attended to me whenever I stopped over at Jack's office and to make matters worse, Jack was blindfolded with the red tie I bought him last Christmas for thanksgiving. This is sickening to the bone marrow, I'm over this shit, so I did the only thing I could do. Place my hands on my ears and scream as hard as I could.

"Oh my God! Camille?" Jack tried to cover himself with the duvet and in the process of yanking it from the blonde, they both fell on the floor clumsily.

"What the fuck! Jack? Why are you dressed in a chef's outfit?" I took a step forward, staring at them on the ground like some horror fiction before mumbling, "you can't even cook. The last time you tried to fry an egg, the fire alarm went on blaring for hours."

"It is a BDSM plot. He is the chef and I'm the Butler." The blonde stood up unabashed and started slipping into her body con dress.

"Oh! So that explains the horrific clown-inspired outfit?" I shoved her aside and faced my cheating asshole of a boyfriend.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work, writing down whatever comes through your mind?" He stood up, massaging his temples while looking around for what I suppose is an item of clothing.

"Oh trust me, if I decide to put down my thoughts into words it will be titled shoving my cheating boyfriend's head into a blender and blending into a smooth paste." I paced around with tears sliding down my cheeks slowly.

"That sounds like a book under the category of the horror genre but I will like to see it as part of romance." He pulled his pants that were previously thrown over the night lamp in a hurry.

"What the hell did I do to deserve this, Jack?" I ran towards him and punched him in the chest repeatedly.

"Camille we were about to make a damn sex tape and you are ruining the moment, you need to leave." He groaned with furrowed brows and stamped his feet on the floor.

I snorted. "With your thirty seconds libido span?! Dude all you will be making is just a tik tok video."

"Get a grip, Camille you are making things a bit awkward." He pushed me roughly to the bed with one hand and a frown marred his facial features.

"You call walking in on you having a kinky sex with your work colleague a bit awkward?" I couldn't control the pitch of my voice as I reached for my heels and threw them at his head.

He dodged it. "Listen, Camille, let's be honest with each other. This relationship hasn't been working for a while now and we both have to admit it." His silver-grey eyes burned into mine frankly.

"And that gives you the permission to cheat? You don't even have any iota of respect for me." I shook with sobs, shaking my head in self-pity.

"You had the audacity to bring little miss goodie two shoes home to bang on the bed we both share?" I sniffled.

"I bought the bed with my money and this is my house. I have every right to do as I please so the earlier you let that sink in, the better for the both of us." He ran his hands through his midnight black hair and sighed in frustration.

"Wow! So this has been going on for God knows how long but why her? You told me you loved me. We were meant to get married, Jack." I shook my head in disbelief and cleaned the mucus running from my nose with the hem of my silk white shirt I picked earlier when going to work.

"Kirby and I share the same interest. We have the same taste in-" he was saying before I interrupted him.

"Yeah! The same interest in disturbing sexual outfits and moaning like Idiots, that I understand but what about our spark?" I cocked a brow at him.

"It died when you suddenly started gaining weight." He banged his fists on the table and stared at me with eyes colder than a piece of ice.

"Excuse you? What has gaining weight got to do with love?!" I cried out in anger. The AC was on yet I could feel sweat forming on my forehead and a fat one tickling my nape.

"Everything Camille, look at you?! Look at yourself!" He hollered with a thunderous voice that reverberated around the flat and I shivered from the hostility he showered on me.

"You are not the girl I fell in love with three years ago. You have fluffed, puffed, busted out, and blossomed into my worst living nightmare. Why would I be with a plus-sized woman?" He glared at me and pinched his index finger and thumb together.

"You are like three huge pillows put together. You are unattractive and have gone ugly. I hate those stretch marks around your legs and boobs, you disgust me." He aggressively ran his hands through his hair again. A trait he carries out whenever he is angry.

"Touche! I could recommend liposuction from one sister to another." Kirby shrugged her shoulders and pouted before picking a red lipstick from her purse and applying it to her bloated lips. It was obvious the bitch had work done and the filers were turning into creepers.

"Sisters don't go around stealing each other's men. There are some remarkably dumb people in this world, thanks for helping me understand that." I touched my chest and gave her a fake smile.

"I can tolerate any other thing but sitting right there and justifying cheating with my obesity is what I won't put up with." I stood up in anger and slapped him hard across the face and judging from the pink welt of fingerprints stamped on his face, I knew I did the right thing and patted myself on the back mentally.

"Get your things and leave my house this minute. I don't want to stay here and inhale any more of your impaled body scent." He shut his eyes in anger.

"Or what?" My voice raises an octave.

"Or I will call the cops on you and tell them you came to rob me and kill me out of petty jealousy." He crossed his bulky arms over his muscular chest.

"I will go with option three which involves getting you sued and disabling our joint account since I don't do too well with bullies." I snapped my fingers at him.

"You wouldn't do that!" A muscle twitched in his jaw.

"Oh! I will because I can cart away with a huge chunk of your savings, Jack." I fisted my hands on my hips.

"Fuck you Camille for always ruining everything you touch." He let out a harsh breath.

"I will do exactly that because I can get you arrested for violating our agreed policies that made us join our accounts in the first place." I cocked a brow at him. "And just to be clear, I didn't ruin this, it is all on you." I made a swiping motion between us.

"You are a fat pain in my ass, leave and do whatever the fuck you want to do." He yelled and pointed toward the door.

"Roses are red, violet are blue, I have five fingers, the middle one is for you." I clicked my tongue and yanked my twenty-four inches bone straight wig from my head, revealing my bed nest of a hair.

"Damn! I like her, you have got a razor-blade mouth. It is a weapon, girl." Kirby raised her brow and grinned at me.

"If being sarcastic burned calories you would have been a skinny bitch by now." Jack's nostrils flared in anger and he stood up from the sofa and threw his arm over Kirby's neck in a warm embrace.

"Let me formally introduce you to my future partner. The size eight woman I want to spend the rest of my life with from now henceforth." He proceeded by kissing her cheeks and she giggled in response.

"I will reserve the reversed cowboy position for later but that will be after we throw this charlatan out of the house." She winked at him and bit her fingers seductively.

"Yes please, I have had enough. I hope you go somewhere far soon enough and stay there so we will never cross paths, Camille." He touched his chest, sincerely while he showed no form of remorse for my plight.

It is now three years down the drain for all I care about. Having him fling my insecurities to my face in front of Kirby who is the complete opposite of me stabbed me hard in the heart. I have been battling obesity and depression for the longest period of my life now and it all started after I graduated from Yale University with a GP of 4.8 and a new bachelor's degree in Journalism.

Do not get it twisted though, I have always been on the big size but I was more of average size from when I was a kid with people occasionally making slight remarks about how fat I will become in the future if I didn't hit the gym soon.

The truth is I have never fully fallen into the category of slim skinny ladies. Right from birth I have always been huge but in a cute average looking body of not being either too fat or too slim. But my body puffed as he said after College and I knew there was no going back with this. I'm permanently stuck in this body which was true but did I deserve to be heartbroken by a misogynist narcissistic cheating bastard? Hell no!

I moved to New York, which happens to be one of the busiest ports in America and a land filled with lots of greener pastures. I got employed in a writing firm known as Beatrice print and publishing house.

I once had a problem with my credit card and in an attempt to go fix my bank issues, I ran into Jack the body shammer who seemed like the perfect match for me then. I was twenty-one and he was twenty-three and worked as an accountant at a high-profile bank. He was an eligible bachelor with millions swimming in his account. He had the good looks, profession, money, and all. He was the eye candy and anyone will jump into a relationship with him. But I wanted a long-term commitment and not some booty shots for three years and problems. He has always been hot-tempered though. A red flag I decided to pretend to be colour blind about and see it as an orange shade.

I remember vividly on our first date, how he yelled at me in public, at the restaurant precisely for staying too long in the ladies' room after excusing myself. Apparently, my period came earlier than expected and I was stranded with no pad at the toilet hence the reason for spending two minutes there. Jack was supposed to be my ride and die but now it is just to hell and die.

"You know when I screamed harder, I meant the sex and not the entire relationship, Jack." I picked up my disfigured apple phone from the ground and my handbag.

"You were bad at sex, to be honest. Your back rolls turned me off, you should work on yourself." He raised his hands as if to surrender and walked out of the room.

"Blah blah blah! Here comes another round of sorrowful bunch of talks, please leave already." Kirby clapped her hands and rolled her eyes.

I was going to leave amicably but hearing her run her mouth all day infuriated the shit out of me so I stared at her with murderous eyes, as I began to weigh the pros and cons of beating her up and smashing her pretty little face on the mahogany wooden table across the room.

"What do you think you are doing?" Kirby's gaze shifted between my balled fists and my heels on the other hand while I took small steps towards her.

"Rearranging those lip fillers in the right order since your doctor did a bad job." I pointed the sole of my heels at her with a tight-lipped smile.

She exhaled heavily, taking several steps backward till she tripped on a six inches purple dildo and fell. She landed with a loud thud, smashing her head on the tiled floor. Her head bled profusely. She stared at me, gaping like a fish struggling to breathe before slowly turning pale and lifeless.

"Kirby?!" I swallowed hard, wondering what the hell just happened. She wasn't breathing and I couldn't find any pulse.

"No no no! Wake up please." I crouched next to her, tapping her gently but all to no avail. I was deliberating between making a run, therefore, paying tit for tat, or dialing the emergency line. I decided to go for the latter and fumbled with my phone since my fingers wouldn't stop shaking.

"What the hell have you done?!" Jack's harsh baritone demanded a call to attention the moment he barged into the room and I bent there looking ashen with confusion evident in my face.

"I can explain!" My hands flew up in the air while we both exchanged murderous glances

♥Asher's POV♥

My brows creased as I flung the newspaper into the nearest garbage dump once my chauffeur opened the doors of my limousine parked right in front of my sky scrapper popularly known as Musk Petroleum Empire, A company that rivals with only the best of the best most successful company in the whole of the United States of America. Don't ask me how I ranked the highest on the Forbes list for seven consecutive years, It is a long story that I would be divulging bit by bit based on my tight schedule.

Those bloody stupid media houses seemed like they were deriving joy in my doom. Of all things that mattered to me, the reputation of my company in society is a string I hold dear to my heart. I have worked my ass off for years by single-handedly building and leading my ancestors' company to greater heights. Musk Petroleum empire and all it took was just a scandal to lead it straight to the ground and I will not be having that.

"Good morning Mr Musk." My employees chorused in unison while I scoffed without sparing them a glance.

"What is good about this morning?" I fired back at them and their eyes immediately fell to the ground.

"Have you seen the tabloid? It is horrible." I yelled at the lot of them while they scampered from my sight.

"The first paragraph reads, the Musk petroleum Empire also known as MPE could be said to be under incapable hands of the youngest successor that hails from the high-profiled celebrity family after a mighty explosion rocked the shores of NYC, reducing twelve workers into ashes and three badly wounded who are currently under the ICU treatment at NewYork-Presbyterian hospitaL." My brunette secretary folded her hands to her chest and stood inches from me. Her scent wafted into my nostrils and I could feel myself slowly feeling at ease.

As a young and eligible wealthy bachelor, I have been with quite a number of women that ranges from model-looking women in all forms and shapes that I have lost my body count. I'm no whore but I find it so hard to be committed to one person majorly because as an Alpha, I have a mate meant somewhere waiting to be discovered someday. But pending the time I find the flesh of my flesh, I am a man with an insatiable need due to my high libido and I bask in the joy knowing that no matter whatever trap mundane women set for me in order to get a shortcut to my wealth by setting me up with pregnancy tales, It is impossible and a mere myth to get a humanoid pregnant simply because they wouldn't survive it. The werewolf fetus feeds on the blood of the host mother and will eventually drain her till death.

I shook my head. "Now they are questioning my skills due to an accident that occurred?!"

"It is preposterous I know." She bit her lips. "That is why I took the liberty to invite a writer from the same print publishing house so you can steer the narrative."

"What can I do without you!" I let out a relieved sigh.

"Nothing." She smirked. "However, before you go for that interview that should be starting in less than an hour." She eyed her Prada wristwatch.

"Yes?" I cocked a brow at my highly efficient brunette secretary.

"I suggest you find a way to tame those emotions, first impression matters and you have to appear like you have got it all under control." Her heels clicked as she took a step forward and another till there was no space left.

"What do you have in mind, Clarrisa?" I tucked a strand of her wavy hair behind her ear and sniffled her cologne.

"How about we play a little hide and seek? Go to your office and let me come find you." A naughty smile appeared on her face and she winked at me before strutting off. Her backside looked fuller and rounder and then I had this sudden itch to run my hands on them and smack them playfully.

A smile coursed through my face as I admired her while taking several steps backward. My head was filled with naughty little ideas of what she could do to ease my tension when I bumped into something jelly-like.

"Oh my God! Can't you employees read the room and stop getting on my nerves?!" I turned to face a black-haired plus-sized lady. She had electric dark orbs that were highlighted with bold cat eyeliner. She was gorgeous as hell with an oval adorable-looking face but it was still no excuse for her to play dumb and blind.

"I'm sorry if I wrinkled your perfect little tuxedo but maybe you should study people's emotions before polluting the building with your lungs." She hissed and walked off.

"Hey you fat little lady!" I pointed a finger at her. "You are fired" my jaws twitched with anger.

"I'm fat but I identify as slim because I'm tran-slender so with all due respect Mr arrogant ass." Her lips puckered into a smile before giving me the middle finger.

I gasped incredulously but before I could say anything more, she had disappeared from my sight. No one dared talk back at me. I'm the ultimate boss and yet a fat goodie miss too shoes defiled me?

I scoffed, it is about time I exercised my sovereignty and I will start by firing some disrespectful bastards even though they have such pretty cute faces and glowing skin and then I made it a life ambition to ruin her till she begged for mercy.

__

I twirled in my office chair, turning left and right while slowly rehearsing my answers to possible questions the indomitable writer could ask. She was the Samaritan sent my way and it is a must I make her comfortable with me.

It is my one chance to fix things and I would be damned to fuck things up. I picked up my phone and switched on my front camera to stare at my reflection. My brown eyes were dull from worry and stress, my hair still looked good because I recently had a haircut in Italy when I went to check up on my family business over there. It is an extension of what we do in America but this time around, it is a little more codded.

I'm clad in a white shirt and smartly tailored navy blue suit with matching white ties. My black shoes were polished till people's reflections shone on them.

I smiled when my eyes fell on the familiar pair of white stilettoes I spotted on Clarissa's legs this morning and I eyed her from down to the top, admiring her black fitted body con gown that hugged her curves delicately.

"Are you just going to stand?." I rubbed my hands and instantly tossed my phone aside. "We don't have all day."

"Always so impatient, you are such a buzz kill." She fired with a smile that revealed her white pairs of teeth before making her way toward me. I couldn't help but notice she had her hair restyled, this time around in a tight and high ponytail and it swung side by side as she advanced towards me.

"That is why you are here to complete me. You are patient and highly efficient and out of everything I inherited from father, you are by far the most useful tool."

"Sh!" Her slender index finger was placed on my lips. "Enough with the chit chat and let's get into business." She slowly slid down till she was on her knees while maintaining eye contact, she then proceeded to unbuckle my belt.

"Ah!" I gasped when her tongue touched the center of my sensitive bad boy. She then proceeded to stroke it gently at first.

"How do you feel?!" Her voice was soft.

"I feel myself loosing up. All my anger is evaporating." I moaned out loud.

"Alright, let take this a notch higher." She placed her mouth right back on my dick while stroking me faster. Electricity coursed through me as she went deeper, till my entire six inches was deeply rooted in her throat. I grabbed her head and moved my hip in sync with her pace till she had saliva dripping and she stared right back at me. I was in immense pleasure, so I shut my eyes, savoring the delicious moment while seratone and dopamine were unlocked. It went on and on for about twenty minutes before I finally released myself in her mouth with my brown eyes opening in ecstasy.

She swallowed every drop and cleared the smeared release on her the corner of her lips only to have it dipped into her mouth.

"Sweet yummy creamy kids." She muttered and I burst into laughter while we both cleaned up.

She adjusted her gown and made her way to the door before pausing after grabbing the handle. "It is time for the interview, I will have Camille Argent sent up immediately."

"Okay."

"Please, do everything in your bid to impress her because a slight attitude could lead to a bad write-up about you and the company." She added.

"Yes boss." I nodded my head and swiveled on my chair once more, my fingers tapping the mahogany desk filled with untouched files, a container filled with pens, my MacBook Pro, and my sunshade.

A knock resonated on the door and I ushered my guest to come in and the moment she did, I knew I was in a lot of trouble because I had fucked things up right from the very beginning.

A smirk lined the raven dark-haired face as our eyes connected. It was the same chubby woman I had threatened to fire a few minutes ago and now I was lost for words.

"Um!" I swallowed, fear gripping me. I have never felt this powerless before a woman in all my years of being Alpha, a mafia leader, and a billionaire heir. There is something about this particular woman that shook me to my core. I think it has to do with her dangerous black orbs that burrowed into the back of my head as if she knew me too well. Almost too well that could ruin me with just a flick of her fingers.

"You seem shocked." Perfectly shaped brows curved knowingly. A bewitching smile appeared on her matte red filled lips.

"I'm sorry miss Argent, you may sit." I stood up immediately and gestured to the chair opposite me.

"Are you sorry for body shaming me and talking down at me? I'm curious to hear what the public would think about how you treat your staffs." She tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"I think your first impression of me has been ruined, but I assure you that it came from a bad place."

"Save it!" She held her hand to silence me. "Let's start the interview already, shall we?"

I nodded my head at her but from within crippling paranoia feasted generously at me. I am ruined already for all I care and this time around there is no undoing of my waterloo.

On a scale of one to ten, the last two days have brought in more trouble than a global pandemic has, and frankly speaking, It keeps on deteriorating further.

Two days ago I was on the brink of losing my job because of a billionaire tycoon I interviewed before writing my article of the week felt I violated his privacy and didn't think I knew the ethics of writing. To say I was pissed was an understatement, I was livid as fuck and I had the spontaneous urge to bash his pretty little head against a wall which might end up in two ways, either I spend a couple of years wearing an orange jumpsuit in jail or I get fired with my writing license revoked so I go into the street, crouched in a corner of the street with ragged blanket shielding me from freezing to death while I begged for alms to survive. The bottom line was that neither of the options suited me so I had to hang tight while gripping my job with iron fists even though it meant I had to lower my ego and beg the asshole.

My stomach was swirling with bile like a freaking tornado when Patricia, my supervisor called me into her office to inform me that the company was being sued. It was obvious he was trying to make money off us. We had to pay him two thousand dollars to let sleeping dogs lie. Our reputation was a lot more important and the company would do anything to prevent a dent in its image especially since the organization had been in existence for twenty-five years after serving Americans fresh takes on several trending topics in our magazines for years. I was left with a stern warning to be careful and have a grip over my shit and to some extent I did till Jack and his blonde bimbo decide to rip it apart from me.

I have lived with Jack ever since we got engaged last year and I was forced to crash at my best friend's place when I was thrown out of the house abruptly.

"Please tell me that bitch remained dead!" Harriet punched the air with her mug of coffee while the corners of her lips were curved in a smirk.

"Unfortunately no, turns out she was asthmatic and hitting her head triggered the attack." I sighed and ate a forkful of omelet egg.

"Damn! But I have always known nothing good would ever come out of dating that James of a guy, I warned you severally." She said and slammed her fists on the dining table. Her pink crop top slipped from her right shoulder, revealing her gorgeous bronze tone.

"It is Jack and I actually thought we stood a chance at happily ever after." I frowned and sniffled.

Harriet does this thing where she intentionally pretends to be ignorant of people's names, especially the horrible ones she holds a vendetta with.

"Awn! Come here!" She held out her hands and I stood up from the dining chair to engage her in an embrace.

"You will be fine honey, Jack and his blonde can go to hell for all I care." She ran her hand through the tip of my jet-black shoulder-length hair in a bid to finger-comb it.

"Yes and that is because I have you." I untangled myself from the embrace and smiled at her.

"Girl! You need a haircut, you need to also go clubbing to wind, yunno." She said abruptly, pausing what she was doing to my hair.

"No way! I won't be visiting any strip clubs. I don't want to see grown-ass men wiggling their penis at me unabashed." I scrunched my face in disgust and waved my hand dismissively.

"Of course not, it is called a strip club for a reason and not a porn hub. There will be no flashing of penises." Her midnight-black eyes sparkled with mischief.

"I don't trust you." I narrowed my eyes at her in and finger stabbed her in the chest.

"Now you are breaking my heart." She touched her chest dramatically and faked a tear. "Living with Jack definitely taught you a lesson or two about shattering hearts."

"Ouch!" I busted into a fit of giggle and she joined me too.

"For how long do you intend to throw shades at him?" I tilted my head at her.

"For as long as it takes for you to recover, now eat your food." She ushered me back to my chair.

Harriet is a typical slim thick girl with fats at the right curves of her body. She is an African American although she has never visited her place of origin, Nigeria because her migration to the US has been handed over like a family heirloom from one generation to the other. The last family member of hers that visited Africa died a hundred years ago, so yes, she has totally cut ties with home.

She finished from Harvard and earned a bachelor's degree in engineering. She works at a very reputable company in New York and we have been friends since high school. Then she used to be bullied for being black and one day I stood up for her and ever since then we became thick as thieves. She is my ride and die, my go-to girl.

"Do you have a clubbing outfit or do I need to borrow you one?" She cocked her perfectly arched brows, her slim oval face reminded me of Asian women in Telemundo movies, she had the perfect cute face.

"I don't have a club-appropriate outfit, Harriet, because I don't go clubbing," I mumbled while draining my mug of its last fluid of coffee.

"Well, that is about to change, get ready to party!" She hollered in a sing-song tone and danced towards her room, rolling her hands in the air.

Ever heard of the saying the darker the berry the juicier it tastes? Harriet has a perfectly tanned skin that is honeyed to perfection and a sweet dimpled smile.

The sound of the clock chiming broke my chain of thoughts. It is currently 7:30 am and If I don't get my ass up and leave this minute, I won't only have to worry about a broken heart, I might as well dust my CV and start looking for a job elsewhere so with fake enthusiasm, I stood up while the chair made a scraping sound and hurried out of the house but not before bidding Harriet a bye and exchanging I love you.

__

I'm not a party freak. I swear I rarely even attend parties because I'm more of an introvert that enjoys binge-watching some latest Netflix blockbusters and munching on popcorns, chocolates, and anything that is technically edible for safe consumption. So when I tell you that I'm at a real party with translucent bulbs flashing blue, green, and red with loud music blasting from the speaker, believe me, I'm here to party like an animal, get drunk and high, and forget I was dumped yesterday by an ex who happens to be a bully.

The most fascinating theme of the party is that it is called the shield doll house. Apparently, all members are to wear a sexy mask to shield their appearances. The main deal is to get drunk and high and have a night stand with a stranger unabashed. Although it sounded crazy but it seemed fun. Everybody had a designed mask that matches their outfit which I think is the highlight of the party because you don't know who is who.

Tonight can be an exception to being a perfectly responsible adult. I won't spend my night sulking with a bowl of ice cream on my lap while I watch some sad movies so I can have the perfect excuse to cry all I want. Harriet has told me she invited me to this party to release my innermost beast and that is exactly what I plan to do. The only thing standing in my way though is my lack of confidence and that I shall also conquer with the right amount of alcohol.

The club is electric tonight, everyone feeding off the smiles and fast dancing. My hips swayed, the sequins catching the disco ball that twirled. I'm clubbing like this is my last night on Earth, but I think that's just the way my mind avoids thinking about the hangover to come. The music moves me like I'm a puppet on strings, my head mashing so hard while my brain is in a shutdown mode. There is so much sweat on my skin and not all of it's mine. The strobe masks so many of my movements, every clap of my hands like it's on pause at different moments. Tomorrow they'll be hell to pay but tonight the alcohol keeps on flowing in like it's an IV drip.

The club is filled with the hottest and most wealthy young bachelors in the city and high schoolers who faked their ID. It has a large dance floor with a bar filled with the most exquisite and expensive liquor in New York. Strippers are lined around for men to buy like some cheap commodity. Some old men cheered in amusement like little kids finding a jar filled with candies anytime a stripper mounted the pole with all her buns out. It felt like a sin city and for some reason I started to have second thoughts wondering what the hell I was doing here.

"Banish those thoughts, honey. When was the last time you got laid?" She yelled in my ear because of the loud music.

"I don't know, six months ago." I shrugged my shoulders while bobbing my head to the music.

"Damn! I hope there are no maggots creeping out of your crusty ass Veejay?" She frowned.

"Harriet!" I glared at her.

"Fine! Sorry, but what the hell is the function of your boyfriend if you haven't been laid for months?" She stared at me pitifully.

"Stop that!" I hissed.

"Stop what?" She tried acting clueless.

"Stop staring at me with pity. He was busy seeking pleasure elsewhere." I tsked.

"Well not to worry, we could stop at a new aphrodisiac store down my estate and get you some rose licking vagina toys." She wiggled her brows playfully at me.

"Okay, you are drunk." I let out a peal of laughter.

"Or would you prefer vibrating pants? I could handle the remote." She screamed again.

"Okay! it is confirmed, that you are sick, Harriet." I shook my head and the images of the toys flashed in my head but I instantly shook it off. She just reminded me about my topmost need after all I have been sex-starved.

"Is that what you label my hospitable trait of getting you sex toys?" She let out a sarcastic smile. "You are an ingrate."

"You love me like that." I tapped my feet to the song playing.

My best friend by Saweetie ft Doja cat started playing and Harriet cheered to it.

"This song is for us, c'mon!" She dropped her flute of champagne and led me to the dancefloor.

"I can't dance right here, I'm shy. What are you doing?" I whisper-yelled, looking around while dragging the hem of my gown down seeing that it had ridden up.

"No one cares if you go around squawking like a duck, just move your body." Her golden-brown skin glittered in the off-shoulder leather corset-like crop top she had on and a white pencil skirt paired with black leather boots.

"What If Jack sees me? You know he attends this club sometimes." My eyes widened in panic and I started glancing around with a pounding heartbeat.

Harriet paid me no attention. She placed her hands on her knees and bent to twerk on me. I soon started bobbing my head to the music with my muscles getting relaxed and soon after a glass and another and another, I was drunk as fuck, jumping high in the middle of the dance floor and twerking to the beat. People hollered and cheered while I break-danced to the beat.

"Yass bitches! That's my best friend, she is a real bad bitch and she doesn't need no nigga." She slurred and crashed into a guy.

"You are too pretty to be this wasted, you should sit with me." A fair-skinned guy with braided cornrows said.

"Hey you, back off!" I tried to pull Harriet towards me.

"OMG! Mason, Is that you?" She stuttered and ran into his hands.

"It's Jason, your college sweetheart. You are drunk." He commented. He had on a floral shirt with some buttons unfastened to expose his dark muscular chest. He was good-looking and looked like he had a heavy bank account. He oozed wealth and freshness.

"No, I'm not-" Harriet didn't get to finish her sentence before throwing up on Jason.

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