CHAPTER I

CHAPTER I - THE HOUSE OF GLASS

I open my eyes and it's dark outside. I'm here. I'm in Atlanta. Through the large window I can only see tall, lit-up buildings and the full moon dancing high up in the pitch black sea above me.

The Greyhound Bus Station shines before me as I move towards it. Not as bright as the skyscrapers, but close enough.

"Terminus!" The driver announces as the bus comes to a halt before the low, ample building.

With only my one bag on hand, I step out of the bus and venture out into the city. I scan the outside of the station for an empty taxi that could take me to my new place. I find two parked right by the entrance of the station.

Dang, it is colder…

I pull the zipper of my anorak jacket all the way up as I walk to the taxi cab.

"10 Pryor Street Southeast, please" I instruct as I climb on the backseat.

I've never visited my cousin, but I remember the address by heart already. Perhaps because I was so afraid I'd forget it in the middle of an emergency.

The taxi driver simply nods before starting the engine.

It's past midnight when I check my phone again. I need to text my mom so she can sleep well.

To: Mom

I've arrived safely. I'm now in the cab heading to Serena's.

I'll text you when I get there.

Goodnight xx

12:12 P.M

From: Mom

Thank goodness.

I'll be waiting for your reply.

Thank you for the text.

Goodnight darling.

12:13 P.M

Downton Atlanta arises before my eyes. I observe the dazzling city through the window of the cab. A grizzly, sinister venue called Masquerade catches my eye amongst the vivid colors of the heart of the city. But it's soon masked by another array of tall, lustrous buildings reflecting the moonlight.

My chest fills with bustle, matching the still-hectic streets of Atlanta. I'm excited to start fresh in such a beautiful, undiscovered city, yet terribly afraid all my plans and expectations don't come true.

It's a risk, I remind myself. You're finally taking a risk, for once in your boring life. Maybe this city has yet so much to offer a girl like me, aside from breathtaking views and lower temperatures.

We drive by Five Points Station, and I know I'm close to home. A new home… I wonder how long it'll take me to get used to this new home… This new life. I hope not too long – that would be a sign things were truly going north.

From what my cousin mentioned, it's right around the corner. And if I know her well, Serena's already waiting for me with two cups of hot chocolate and striking enthusiasm to hear and tell all the latest gossip.

The taxi stops in the middle of an intersection, behind a long line of vehicles which fade out along the street. Dang, this traffic! I notice a green sign on the left with Wall Street written on it. I can't help but laugh, promptly plucking my frustration from the root. Who knew someday I'd be living down the street to Wall Street?

I call Serena to let her know I'm arriving. It rings once, twice… seven times, until she picks up.

"Hey!" She shouts from the other side of the line, where I can hear loud, thumping music. Is she having a house party?

"Hi. I just called to say I'll be there in a minute."

"Oh shit."

I hear her mutter something I can't understand, like she's talking to someone else. I ponder whether I was ignored or if she'll get back to me eventually. So I stay on the line with my heartbeat quickening, giving her the benefit of the doubt. Gradually, I notice the lively music disappear, and her smoky voice finally returns.

"Blair?" I can hear her clearly now.

"Yes."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, but I'm not home."

What?

I nearly have a mental breakdown. I'm in the backseat of a taxi in another city, with no familiar faces and nowhere to sleep.

"I'm at Elysium. Can you come meet me?"

"What's that? Where's that?"

"It's a nightclub – the hottest place in town. Today's the only night in the whole year where girls have free entry. I couldn't just not go, you know?"

Oh dear Lord… I bet Elysium is packed with Spring Breakers.

I sigh, realizing I don't actually have plenty of options at my disposal.

"Okay. Where is that, precisely?"

I should be at home by now, unpacking, so I can go to bed early enough to wake up fresh for my first day at Sensations tomorrow. But no. Life never goes my way.

"Where are you right now?"

"In a taxi. Going down our street."

"Great. It's just fifteen minutes away by car. Midtown Atlanta. I'll pay for your taxi."

"But…"

Before I can protest she'd already hung up.

Is she going to give me the keys when I get there? Or am I supposed to stay until she decides it's time to call it a night?

"Sudden change of plans." I turn to the driver, who eyes me speculative through the rearview mirror. "Could you please take me to Elysium instead?"

God, I hope he knows where it is. Or I'm lost once and for all.

"Sure." The man speaks up in a grumbling tone, tranquilizing me, before he speeds up.

We drive by a few vast city parks, touching Savannah's level of gorgeous, encircled by more ten to thirty-floor buildings of the most diverse purposes – companies, offices, steakhouses – and the occasional majestic skyscraper soaring into the infinite sky among them. The Bank of America Plaza, I recognize from an online brochure – the tallest skyscraper in all of Georgia and any U.S state capital, right beside AT&T. I admire its' imposing presence as we drive by it. Its' glowing, gold leaf pinnacle makes it stand out from all the rest, and they are just as colossal.

Luckily, I arrive at Elysium in ten minutes, thanks to the driver's GPS, which helped us avoid most traffic.

"Here you go." The driver announces, stopping in the taxi lane.

I look outside as I unbuckle my seatbelt, searching and hoping Serena would be by the entrance. But I don't find her. With shaky hands, I pay for my ride and head outside into the ongoing crowd of people in the street.

Elysium is bigger than I assumed – a wide, three-floor nightclub painted in black brick with a lavishing rooftop. Just outside, I can hear the popular, EDM music clearly enough.

I call Serena and, to my surprise and displease, it goes straight to voicemail. Oh, God… This new chapter isn't looking famous.

To: Serena

I'm at the entrance.

Where are you?

12:51 P.M

I press send and step into the never-ending line of glammed-up women waiting to get inside.

Seconds turn into minutes and I start feeling sick to my stomach when I don't have a reply.

Breathe, Blair.

I take a deep breath, then another, trying not to get bothered by strangers giving me side looks. I know. This is the last place I hoped to be in tonight. Maybe I should've done like in the movies and changed into a proper attire in the backseat of the cab. But I would never have the courage to do that.

I wait, and wait, then wait some more until it's my turn – half an hour later.

"I.D." The broad-shouldered security man asks.

I open my duffle bag and fish my wallet out of the side pocket.

"Here." I smile politely, as I hand him my identity.

The man analyses it for a brief moment before he clears the way.

"Come in."

Inside, Elysium is just as crowded and ostentatious. The swirling, colorful lights are blinding when they catch my eye, and the noise is evil to my ears. I look around in an attempt to find Serena. Down on the dancefloor I spot hundreds of people. God help me, I bet that's where she is.

Before I venture into the sea of people in front of me, I take off my jacket. I'm not sure if it's the body heat or the extreme lighting, but this place is hot. I stuff it in my bag and adjust my dress in place, feeling instant relief.

I walk through the neon bar on the platform and go down a couple stairs to where the dancefloor stood. Excusing myself, I struggle to make my way through drunk college students and obnoxious couples grinding on each other. I feel like I'm a clumsy bunny in this jungle full of wild, predator animals. I'm so misplaced.

Like a woman on duty, I decide to brush my thoughts away and keep searching for Serena. At least she's tall, which would help me out if it wasn't for the giant males all around.

I shrug past another young couple and they acknowledge me with a bothered expression, eyeing me from head to toe. I surely must stand out in this sea of people – poorly and overly-dressed, and tired unlike anyone else.

"I'm sorry!" I yell to make sure I'm heard, not meaning to push them in any way, and they reply with silence and indifference.

I keep walking, minding my own business. God, I'm so tired I can't even afford to let stranger's rudeness get to me.

I'm halfway across the dancefloor by the lounge area where the music wasn't so loud, when I feel two hands on my waist. Serena, thank Goodness!

I turn around to find one of the many tanned guys in the area.

"Hey!" He grins at me, placing his hands again on my body and pushing me towards him. He smells of strong alcohol and bodily odor, and all things nasty. I feel an odd sensation taking over my body, like my stomach just did a 360-degree backflip.

I freeze, stopping in my tracks. Who the hell is he?

"Do I know you?" I ask as I try to shrug away from his touch. But it's to no use – he's much stronger than me.

"No." He says, with the same annoying smile plastered in his face." But you can tonight."

Ugh. Do girls really fall for that?

He tries to force me against him, as his hips dance to the beat, like an invitation. Doesn't he get the memo? He leaves me no other choice but to be blunt.

"Are you a bee?"

He frowns.

"No."

"Because it feels like I'm a flower and you want to drink from me. But in case you haven't noticed, you're in a field of flowers." I take the chance to glance away, avoiding his awful smell for a second. "So move on to the next one. I'm sure they'll love it. Plus, you stink."

The same idiotic expression remains on his face, as if he hadn't understood what I'd said.

"Playing hard to get." He leans against me all at once, nearly kissing me. My strap falls down my arm, making me feel naked and powerless... and incredibly nauseous. "I like that."

"That's enough."

I hear a strong voice coming from behind me and, suddenly, the guy slunks off, once and for all. From my lips escape a long breath of relief as I watch a tall, broody man come into view.

Before I can process what's happening, this man has an arm around my neck. I have no clue why but, this time, I feel protected – not violated. His presence is powerful, undeniable, even from a hundred feet away.

"Hi, honey." He greets me with a subtle, intimate smile, despite being a total stranger.

Our eyes meet for the first time, and I can't find the strength to look away. My savior – a man with perfectly-styled dark chestnut hair, piercing blue eyes and Greek God-chiseled jawline. He's outrageously beautiful. Beautiful like I've never found anyone.

When I snap back to reality, I notice the college guy is long gone. I take a step back when I realize our bodies are still glued to each other, and compose myself.

"You didn't have to do that." I say, fixing my tameless strap back on my shoulder.

"I'm afraid I did. Unless your intention was to be drugged and dragged to a dark alley all alone."

Drugged? What?!

"You're overreacting." I try my best to sound confident and stable, but my heavy breathing and racing pulse give me away. "I got it under control."

"How? By pissing him off?" He sneers with a Mr. Know-It-All grin. "I don't think so."

Was he eavesdropping?

"By rejecting him." I reply with certainty. "Loud and clear."

When I glance down I notice he's wearing a full, proper suit. To a nightclub. Guess I'm not the only one here standing out after all…

"Didn't you see he was a retarded?" His eyes grow smaller, darker than the night, as he speaks. "He would've followed you around and maybe even home, until he got what he wanted from you, Miss..."

As if I don't know how to defend myself…

"Waldorf. And how do you know that?" I ask, curious as to what he has to say to back up such blatant statement.

"I'm a man."

I scoff. His eyes are challenging now. Challenging… me?

"Well, not all men are the same." I make my point. "Or so I've heard."

"You're right. Ones harass lonely girls and others rescue them from the harassers."

"Oh yeah? And how do I know if you're not a harasser disguised as a gentleman?"

To be fair, his clothes were clearly not cheap to have him pretend he was dressed in sheep clothing. But a wolf is a wolf, no matter.

His thin, manly lips twitch with my question, as if trying to hold back a smile – and he's successful at it.

"Gentleman is not something I am."

The wolf is out and proud!

"See." I point out, ready to turn on my heel and resume my desperate search for Serena. But, for some alien reason, I don't want to. I want to stay, with him. "I'm better off by my own."

I check my phone for the hundredth time, in case I hadn't heard it under all this noise. Yet, I can hear him so well – as if he's speaking right onto my ear. It's unbelievable.

"You seem lost." I hear his masterful voice and instantly stop on my tracks. Is it so obvious?

I glance over my shoulder, ready to tell him I'm very well on my own, when I feel his hand on my naked forearm. He didn't grab me to stop me from leaving, – I realize. I had already stopped. Why?

Before I'm aware, I'm sliding down the dancefloor – phone in hand – to the private lounge-type of corner where a few other good-looking men were sat on. I come to a halt before his widened eyes. He seems fairly concerned for a man who's not a gentleman.

When I come aware of the silence filling the space between us, I realize I should proceed:

"I was looking for my cousin, because she has the only key to our apartment. But she's nowhere to be found. And now I have to keep searching for her, otherwise I'll have no place to sleep tonight. Maybe she's with her boyfriend, but I have no idea where he lives. I don't even know this town at all! I arrived just an hour ago and all I wanted was to sleep."

Whoa… Did I just tell him the extended version of this month's Waldorf issue?

When I get out of my head I'm faced with his barely-contained smile beneath his piercing gaze. I know that smile – it's the same as before, yet lighter, less constricted – which further proves my assumption.

What's wrong with me? Exhaustion. It must be…

The corners of his mouth slyly quirk up one last time before he kills the most awkward silence of my whole existence.

"Have you called her?"

Duh.

I sneak another look at my phone, which was wrapped loosely around my fingers. I grip it tighter, afraid to lose something else tonight.

"Yes, and she's not answering nor replying to any of my texts."

He looks away and goes silent for a moment, leaving me unsure of what to do. Should I wait? Was I dismissed? Good gracious, he's unreadable. I stare at him for enlightenment. He looks like he's debating with himself something major, and I hate that I'm being left in the dark.

While he's in deep thought, I wonder how his eyes can shine so bold and naturally, blinding me more than the endless neon lights surrounding us. Suddenly, they catch me.

"Come with me." He demands with an open hand.

My heart pounds in my chest and my cheeks burn crimson, like I was caught red-handed. I'm not usually like this, but, for some alien reason, I just couldn't look away.

I shake my head back to the real world, processing what he'd just said.

"I know a place you can stay the night." He adds. "No questions, no money, just somewhere to rest."

Is he from the mafia or something? I certainly won't accept it.

"Well, then?" He spreads his hand and I'm tempted to take it, but eventually give into my logical side.

"Who would take me in for free?" I ask out of curiosity, not even considering his proposal to begin with. "The homeless?"

He stiffens yet another laugh.

"No. There's a hotel you can stay at – Loews. I'm staying there too."

"Uh… So you're suggesting I come spend the night at a hotel with you? A total stranger? For free?" I scoff, shaking my head in disbelief. "Next thing I know you're paying me, is that it? I'll take my chances with my cousin, thank you."

"I've just made you an offer that would solve all your problems, and you're too stubborn to accept it."

You're a stranger!

I'm ready to turn on my heels when a sudden realization strikes me, catching me off guard: Why do I feel like I can genuinely trust him? Without another word I decide to comply with my reason and life lessons and turn away. After all, you shouldn't trust strangers, much less take offers from them – no matter how charming and handsome they might be.

"We'll be in separate rooms, of course."

I glance back at him, availing his expression – he's carved with honesty.

"I don't trust you, Mr. Fancy Suit."

"Many don't. But I think I'm worth the risk."

"You're paying a room at some hotel for a stranger…" I state the facts, trying to see if they would sound normal out loud. "What would you get out of it?"

"One less assaulted woman."

He squints his eyes in amusement a second later, and I can't help but want to laugh at his terrible joke.

"It's clear you need to rest. And I have a spare room where you can stay. It's been a tough night for me, too. I feel like I should take the opportunity to do some good, and you to stop being so uptight."

Uptight? Who does he think he is?!

"I'm not a charity case, Mr. Benefactor."

"You're a lost case." He retorts with pride smearing his lips. Then, with a silent, nimble movement, he stands up and returns to serious mode - just like that. "You'll either come with me or I'll drag you."

Surely, he's used to getting his own way all the time.

"And so the savior turned into harasser… What a sad ending."

"I don't give happy endings; I give happy moments. So trust me when I say I'm the last man you should be running from tonight."

"And the most persistent one…"

He beams.

"That I am. But my intentions are good, at least for tonight."

He is shameless.

I take a moment to take a deep breath, pondering the possible weight of my choice, when I realize he's walking towards me with intent almost as to…

"Okay, okay!" I place my hand on his chest, pushing him away. His eyes soften and his hands drop to his sides immediately.

I see him glancing down at my hand on his shirt while his chest rises up. His muscles contract underneath the linen shirt, just underneath my palm, letting me know this moment is real – that he is very much real. We remain in silence – my body tingling and his expression unreadable. For a minute I could swear the whole club went silent too and everyone else vanished.

Why do I keep touching him? I should've taken my hands off him right away, but now it's too late. Now he knows he affects me; now I'm easy prey.

"Whenever you're ready." I hear his voice, husky now, and lose my poise and confidence all at once, just like falling down a ladder.

My hands fly back to safe land as if he's a burning hot surface. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing that comes to my mind seems reasonable enough to justify my actions.

To spare me the humiliation, he suppresses his much desired smile and moves behind me, towards the exit. I limit myself to follow him and let my mouth and hands stay out of trouble.

Once outside, I feel more relived. Perhaps the cold air isn't so bad after all. Attentively, I watch as he stops by a matte black BMW with matching windows parked in front of the club. Wow… Fancy. And not scary at all.

With a motion of his hand and I'm running his way like a lost puppy. Oh, the joke's on me… I deviated from my path just like Red Riding Hood.

"Come in." He raises his chin towards the car, holding the door open for me as he averts his eyes. So far, so gentlemanly.

With my best efforts to appear lady-like, I climb in with one swift movement, like my shoulders aren't hurting from the weight of my bag and my mind isn't infected by the virus of his skin on mine just two minutes ago.

One minute we're out in the cold air, the next he's sliding to the backseat next to me and it's unbearably hot; suffocating, even. But the music from the club follows me, pounding in my head like I'm in a twisted dream.

"Where to?" The driver – a fifty-year-old man – asks, startling me. Somehow, I'd forgotten cars don't drive themselves.

"Lowes" Bass replies, curt, as his driver look back from the rear view mirror.

Without further instructions, the engine rumbles and we're flying down the moonlit streets.

This is borderline kidnap. It's got to be. Yes, he's good-looking and well-dressed, but so are most criminals. For all that I know, he could be a part of the mafia. Holy Christ...

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're a stranger!"

"And that guy wasn't? Would you've preferred him to take you home instead?"

As if I can't take care of myself…

Replying him with silence is the politest answer I find.

"Where's that? Lowes." I ask, hoping it isn't far.

"Peachwood Street."

The name rings familiar in my head, but I can't figure out why.

I take in the view, memorizing our route as well as I can, just for precaution.

"Are you okay?" He turns to me with a crease forming between his brows.

"Why do you ask?"

"You're blanched."

I touch my cheeks for a quick check-up – they're cold, but so is the weather. Oh. Is he only now noticing how pale I am?

"This is my natural color, thanks for the concern."

"You're as pale as one can be." He remarks.

I'm sorry if I don't have naturally tan skin, Mr. Fancy Suit. I guess not even the Savannah sun can get under my skin.

"Thank you for the compliment." I reply, trying not to let my sarcasm run too wild. The last thing I want is to upset my kidnapper.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing."

"You made it sound like it was."

"I didn't mean to. I think it's quite rare – fair skin – specially around here. I think it's beautiful." He awes, before the corner of his thin lips twist upwards. "Unless you're a vampire."

If I was a vampire I'd be out of here already.

"You're the one who sounds like a vampire."

He chuckles, catching me by surprise. It travels throughout the car and fills my ears like pouring honey Damn, he's gorgeous. Even more when his lips are quirked in a perfect white smile and his blue eyes squinted in joy. My heart clenches tightly. His smile is the most beautiful smile I've ever witnessed in my life.

"Good point."

"I don't even know your name." I think aloud and pray he didn't hear me.

He averts his eyes, fixing them on the ever-changing street view. When he turns to speak his voice is deprived of any levity.

"The less you know about me, the better."

"That sounds just like a criminal talking…" I remark, jokingly. I want to keep the mood light, to make the best out of my first surprisingly crazy day in Atlanta. But he never lets me win.

"I promised you a safe night of sleep at my hotel, didn't I? The only thing you need to know about me is that I never break my promises."

The shadows of the night contour his most distinctive features – his straight nose, high cheekbones, strong jaw… They're sculpted to perfection. Almost too beautiful to be real.

"Thank you." I express my gratitude. "But you didn't have to do that."

"I didn't. But I wanted to."

I lean back against the heated beige seats – which is a level of comfort I've never felt before – and try to relax.

"Can I at least know your last name? I gave you mine." I negotiate, fixing him with hopeful eyes.

I can hear his sigh – of defeat, it seems – before he concedes.

"Bass."

I've never known anyone with that name before. If anything bad happens tonight at least he won't be hard to look for.

My hands travel back and forth over the smooth leather seats. I wouldn't mind sleeping in this car instead. It's far more comfortable than my own bed back home.

"Is this yours?"

"The car?"

I nod.

"No." He shakes his head, minimally. "It's my friend's."

"Doesn't your friend need it?"

"No. He has plenty to choose from."

I've never understood the necessity rich people have of owning lots of vehicles. Indecision? Vanity? Simply because? I hope he's more modest.

Why do you care? My mind snaps at me. It's not like you're gonna see him again.

A blur of the outside world flashes before my eyes as I try not to immerse myself in my thoughts. I have to be awake and aware. As much as my intuition tells me he can be trusted, I've been wrong before.

Suddenly the car comes to a halt.

"We're here." He alerts, unbuckling his belt with one hand and grasping the door handle with the other.

Already?

I follow his moves and step out with my bags into the chill night.

Lowes? More like Highs.

My chin hangs low as I gaze up at the massive building I'd called "some hotel". I'm rooted. I can't see its end. Dozens and dozens of floors made out of nothing but clear, shiny glass, reflecting the dreamy city life. It's so striking and overpowering, yet seems so fragile all at once.

I feel his weight behind me, before a current of air gives him away.

"You've never been here?"

I shift my focus from the giant building into something even more striking. His eyes are attentive, studying mine. They're the same crystal blue as the hotel, I notice. And I can't seem to look away.

"Never in my wildest dreams." I confess, moving my feet after he does. "It's really stunning."

"Good night, Mr. Bass." The concierge greets him with a broad smile. Politeness aside, he seemed truly excited about his presence.

Bass acknowledges him with a distant gaze and a nod of his head. If it was me I would've repaid the smile, at least. I wonder if he's always like this, to everyone. To me he didn't seem so cold – he was actually gentle and kind.

The modern, corner-shaped entrance leads into a luxuriously wide lobby. It's deserted, except for the hotel staff and a lively Asian couple checking in at the reception. I notice my drowsy state vanish as an odd, overwhelming feeling rushes through me instead. Anywhere I turn my head I see beautiful people, polished marble, velvet cushions, gold pieces of art… Out of all the places I could be sleeping at tonight, I never expected it to be five-star hotel.

I notice heads turn his way, searching for his eyes on them like he's a magnet, but he doesn't comply. Unfazed, he sprints down the lobby like he's late for something and I struggle to catch up to his long legs.

There's a light, jazz melody in the air around us – Sinatra, I pinpoint. I remember my dad playing his biggest hits in a rusty vinyl player as I danced around the living room when I was young. God, how much did he love the saxophone… Somehow, this memory comforts me. It's the only familiar thing to me in this massive, strange place.

"Don't we have to check in?"

"No."

Okay... Not a fan of a lot of questioning. Noted.

He only ceases his hurried pace when we reach the elevators. With one finger, he presses the silver button and takes a step back, standing beside me again.

"What"

"No questions." He silences me, distant eyes fixed on the numbers changing over the golden doors.

I scowl at him, since he can't see me. If I'd known he'd be this arrogant the minute he had it his way, I would've rather kept my pride and slept on the staircase of my apartment.

With a quiet ding, the doors open before us. The elevator is empty and larger than I expected. Dang, everything is big around here. I step inside after him and stand on the opposite side. I'm graced by mirroring walls surrounding us, capturing our every angle like some distorted painting. My hair is swept in random directions, my bangs blown aside like curtains and my face is, indeed, pale as ever.

God, I look bad.

I bow my head and stare at the floor. Sinatra has followed us, and his sultry voice croons directly into my hear.

Don't you know, little fool, you never can win...

"Too blunt?"

His low voice echoes throughout the constricted place, although he's as far from me as it's allowed. He's staring at me through big, hooded eyes and his lips are parted open in a broken smile.

"A little." I shrug. "It's bold, but it's modern and original, I think."

Sighing, he closes his mouth and his smile fully blossoms. My eyes seem lured to it. Why is his mouth so seductive? I don't even know him at all!

Before I can process what's happening inside me the doors crack open – still more elegant than me. Twenty-eighth floor, I notice before chasing him down the hallway.

The ceiling is rather low, giving a contrasting coziness to the hallway. His head is only an inch below, which is odd. Downstairs everything was so high and echoic… Maybe it's a trendy thing now.

We climb a smaller staircase and, all of a sudden, we're even higher than before. It debouches into a tiny, but wider hallway with only two doors.

"That's your room" He tilts his head towards the door on the right. "There's food in the mini bar, tea in the drawers above. Take a shower. Make yourself at home. I'll be here. If you need anything, there's a connecting door in the living room. Goodnight."

Living room in a hotel room?

"Uh, goodnight." I reply, bewildered, as he opens his door and then shuts it in my face.

I turn on the lights.

Everything is white. White walls, white bedding, white carpet… So lustrous! It feels peaceful and cozy but, at the same time, like one of those private clinics rich people go to.

I breath in. The crisp but warm air from the air conditioner envelops me from head to toe, making me want to lie down in silky, King-sized bed. This is pure luxury. I've never expected to enter such a fancy hotel in my life, let alone stay at one – for free.

I drop my bag on the grey velvet armchair by the bed and take in the dazzling view the floor-to-ceiling windows allowed. It's truly breathtaking.

Whoa. This is life.

The silver full moon hides behind The Bank of America, while cars blaze up and down the bridge like the night is young. But I'm the one who feels invincible from up here. It's riveting, but I feel too exposed sleeping with the windows open.

When I close the curtains, the weary feeling returns. He's right. I better take a nice shower to clean this long day exhaustion off me before I sink into that tempting bed and never wake up again.

Gathering my white lace pajamas and a pair of clean underwear, I head to the bathroom. Unlike the bedroom, there's more grey appointments than white with all the dark grey marble surfaces. I leave my clothes on the sink and hurry to open the big clear glass doors of the shower, before sleep gets the best of me. It's probably two in the morning and tomorrow I start my job way too early to be up right now.

I stare at the long shower panel, which had tons of buttons, a shower head hung on the side and a huge square one on top. At the center I find the faucet and turn it all the way to the right. Oh God! As if by a need to impress me even further, all the jets start running.

Once the water runs mildly hot against my fingers, I get undressed and step into the shower, closing the doors behind me. The stream is powerful, relaxing, massaging my back in a soft, violent way. I close my eyes, releasing the weight off my shoulders in pure bliss. Okay, I definitely needed a shower.

I have to text my mom. I remember a moment later. She's probably worried crazy by now. I hope S's okay. One of the last things I expected upon my arrival in Atlanta was not seeing my cousin. Despite life's tendency to separate people from its different courses, I've always loved hanging out with my cousin. She was the sister I never had.

I search for one of the hotel's shower gels and pour it in my palm. I lather my whole body, inhaling the clean, rich flavor. All my senses are pleased with this sweet indulgence. This feels like a dream where I'm a recently-crowned Goddess and everyone and everything serves solely for my comfort and pleasure.

When my eyes open there's steam everywhere. Clouds and clouds of white mist all around the bathroom, enough to have someone hiding on the other side of it. I must've gotten carried away.

I climb out of the shower and I can't see my naked reflection in the wide, frameless mirror. Honestly, I don't think I'd want to see my entire bareness.

Towel!

I glance towards the shower, then back to the sink, to the toilet, to the door and… No. No, no, no, no, no.

My heart flutters. I didn't bring a towel with me from Savannah. How the hell am I supposed to clean myself now? This is one bad hotel service.

Hesitant, I slip into my pajamas to dry myself in the only way I can. And then I feel them slowly soak on the drops of water covering me. I need to ask Bass for a towel, goddamn!

This night is certainly not going as expected.

I stand by the connecting door.

My hand is on the metal doorknob, about to pull it down, and then it's not. He must be asleep. I withdraw it, more fearful than when I stepped foot in this city. But I'm wet. If I sleep like this, I'll wake up with a cold. And he said I could come to him if I needed anything. Plus, this is a basic need. Apprehensively, I place my hand back on the doorknob and pull it before I change my mind. Okay. This is it. Just ask for the towel and leave.

All the lights are off. I can't see anything but shadows, even with the clarity pouring in from my room and the glaring moonlight through the floor-to-ceiling windows covering what should be the walls.

Wow. My mouth is agape as I grabble the wall beside me in search for the light switch. When I find it, a dim living room greets me. He must really be asleep. I need to find the bathroom.

On my tiptoes, I cross the spacious living room and chase the hallway. It's colder here, bigger.

There's two doors – one is the kitchen, one leads to another dark room and the one at the end of the hall to some type of patio.

Taking a deep breath, I pray the dark room takes me to his bathroom and not his bedroom. But luck isn't on my side today.

His bed occupies the entirety of the only visible wall in the room. I've never seen a be this large in my life. It's big enough for what… Ten people? It's absurd! Why does a single person need that much space? I slept in a single bed my whole life and I never had space issues. Unless he has someone to share it with…

I slap myself in the face, mentally. Why does it bother me?

"Need anything?"

I quiver to the unforeseen sound of his voice in the room. And then I see him – sitting by the windows with a glass in hand. Shirtless. Oh my God. Indigo shadows highlight his hard lines; his every muscle. And his hair is unruly now, deprived of the gel that had kept it so elegantly slicked back.

My heart skips a beat, and my breath itches in consequence.

Suddenly a realization hits me: We're both half naked in the same hotel room. I cover my body as quickly as I can.

His brows furrow, casting a deeper shadow over his face.

"Why are you wet?" Even from a distance, I can feel his husky voice travel all the way through my body. It feels like an invasion of privacy, feeling him so close.

I shudder again, then catch my breath, in hopes to appear composed when I can speak:

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I didn't have a towel in my room." I hear my sheepish voice, and it echoes around me, sounding alien to my ears.

A guttural laugh resonates throughout the room. Mocking me. I feel my cheeks heat up with the ultimate mix of shame and embarrassment. I want to cover them, but I sense the darkness in the room is enough to do it.

I watch as he brings his half-full whiskey glass to his mouth and takes a long sip. I feel ignored, worthless and vulnerable all at once. Like I've never felt around any man before. And it's so humiliating…

I need to leave. I'm just his charity work. I should turn my back at him like he did earlier and leave him there laughing like a full-on sadist to the wall.

"Have you checked the closet for a spare towel?" His voice catches me mid spin. No… To top it all off, I've just made a complete fool of myself. I can't even afford to pay him back in any way.

"Thank you." I murmur with what's left of my pride and turn to leave as ungraceful as ever.

I throw my pajamas into the laundry basket and rub the 100% Egyptian cotton towel until my body is finally dry. Is that my payment for his unsolicited favor? Being degraded? I should've known better than to accept a stranger's "kindness". There's always interest behind everything.

And this was my only decent pajama.

Frowning, I fish a large t-shirt I use as a dress when it's Summer and let it cover my half-naked body. I fling myself into the bed and slip under the soft, freshly-washed sheets.

There's no reply from Serena. My heart sinks in my chest. But, as much as I care for her, I need to remind myself she's not my responsibility. I hope she's okay.

Now, what can I tell my mom to justify this late response?

To: Mom

My battery died on the way here. I'm sorry.

I'm home and I'm going to bed now.

Talk to you tomorrow. I love you.

1:11 A.M

Fresh off my parent's house and I'm lying already.

I pull the sheets up to my chest, discarding these nasty, disquieting feelings. They soothe me instantly.

Today was one hell of a day… Hopefully tomorrow will be the calm after the storm.

I turn to one side and grab the sheets in one hand to give me comfort. I inhale its clean, flowery scent until I fall into a deep sleep with crystal blue eyes haunting my dreams.

R E A D   F I R S T   H A N D   HERE