The Kaleidoscope Album Box Set by Bryce Oakley

Author:Bryce Oakley [Oakley, Bryce]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-27T04:00:00+00:00

Part III

Midnight

Prologue

New Year's Eve

Zoey

Zoey stared in the mirror of the bathroom, fixing her hair. Her classic twist had started to come loose, and she held two bobby pins in her mouth as she finagled a third back into place.

Someone knocked on the door. Her eyes flicked to the door in the reflection of the mirror.

"Jus' a 'inute," Zoey called out, unable to open her mouth with the bobby pins in her teeth.

The knocking continued. Couldn't they tell the door was locked, signaling someone was inside? Wasn't that common sense?

She spit out the pins in frustration. "Fucking hold the fuck on," she yelled.

The knocking stopped immediately.

She sighed as she picked up the pins again to finish twisting them into place.

Sure, she had made the guest list of Madonna's New Year's Eve bash, one of the most exclusive parties in LA, but she supposed they didn't include an intelligence screening test at the door for any other guests.

She had forced herself to come to the party stag, mostly because both Billie and Domino were loved up, but even Mego had plans with a special someone. Zoey had always felt a bit uncomfortable going solo to social events, but with the increase in invites, she knew she couldn't convince her inner circle to go to every single one of them. Especially now that her wild child best friend, Domino, had settled down and was — to quote — wearing fuzzy slippers and drinking hot toddies at home.

Even Micah, their manager, had plans with her husband.

Ugh, couples.

Zoey cringed, looking in the mirror again.

When had all of her friends turned boring?

The worst part? She didn't even despise any of their partners.

Except Mego's, but only because Meg wouldn't tell her who she was seeing.

And now Zoey was alone at Madonna's New Year's Eve party.

Someone banged on the door again.

She turned, her patience completely gone. She opened the door, standing in the doorway, towering over a very drunk girl who couldn't have been over 18. She was wearing a designer dress that fit strangely around her chest — had she seriously stuffed them with toilet paper? Was this girl even old enough to drive?

"Is the building on fire?" Zoey barked.

The girl rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Just move, lady," she said, pushing in past Zoey.

Zoey scoffed, moving into the hallway as the door slammed in her face.

She walked back down the hall of the giant rental space. It was a ballroom decorated in blacks and reds and tulle, like some macabre ballet.

The music was loud with a bass that vibrated her ribs and drowned out all the thoughts in her head. She took a glass of champagne from a tray that a waiter was holding and resisted the urge to take her phone out of her purse.

No, she would be present. She would not just retreat to staring mindlessly at social media just because she was in a sour mood.

She knew plenty of people at the party from other parties she’d been to, or from photo shoots or magazine interviews or other designer's shows.

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