Roquel’s responding gasp tells me she has, in fact, seen him.
“That’s Tanner Bromwell,” I say. “His dad owns Faress Airlines. You might know him because he plays some douchebag in that vampire television series. Two years ago, he got caught snorting coke at some house party in Eastpoint. There was so much bad press about it that his parents forced him to go to rehab.”
“Oh, wow.” Roquel stirs her drink even as she eats up the sight of the guy and my words. “That’s so sad. Addiction can be so hard.”
“He wasn’t addicted,” I tell her. “He was trapped by expectation.”
“What?”
“Tanner’s not a drug addict,” I repeat. “He’s never even smoked a joint. His best friend died of a drug overdose when they were teens. He’s… I think in his mid-twenties now?”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. The fact is, Tanner was in the wrong place at the wrong time and paparazzi got a picture of him in a room with other people snorting coke. Didn’t matter that he hadn’t touched the stuff. His father threatened to cut him off and his agent threatened to drop him if he didn’t go to rehab and make the public think he was clean.”
“That’s…”
“When you’re rich, image and reputation are money,” I say. “Money is everything. People who grow up rich know no otherlife until they’re forced to. They’re trapped in their own little world and they can’t even see past the diamonds and mirrors to find out there’s more.”
“Well, that doesn’t really seem so bad,” Roquel murmurs. “I mean, so he had to go to rehab to keep his job and parents happy? I bet it was one of those nice places that lets you keep your phone and feeds you five-star meals every day.”
I shrug. “Sure,” I say. “Maybe. Is the food really that important when the cost is your freedom?”
Roquel’s upper lip curls and she huffs out a breath. “If you’re trying to make me feel bad for poor little rich kids then you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel bad for them,” I say honestly. “I just want you to know that not everything is as it seems.”
“Well, yeah, okay, I guess.” She takes another long gulp of her drink, but I can tell she doesn’t mean the words. That’s fine. It’s not my job to convince her that Tanner is a decent guy. He’s not amazing, but he’s also not the worst guy either.
“My point is—it might all seem pretty and dazzling, but it’s all fake.” I glance at my glass, wishing I had another one already.
“Everyone’sfake.” Roquel snorts and polishes off her drink before setting it on the counter. “Rich. Poor. Doesn’t matter. Do you really think all of the girls at school that hang out with Megan actually like her? No.” She shakes her head. “They just don’t want to be her targets.”
I can definitely see that. Megan doesn’t strike me as the type of girl to be able to interest or keep real friends.
“All I’m saying is that losing everything actually freed me in a way.” The glow of the purple, pink, and blue lights catches the reflection of the floor and throws rainbows across the shiny fabric of my pants. “I don’t want to give that up.”
Real friendships. People who don’t use you. Men you can rely on. It’s invaluable.
If it came down to a choice between going back to my old life of money and privilege or staying where I’m at and having to work for the rest of my life, there’d be no competition.
I choose the life that won’t fuck me over in the end. I choose the Scorpion Kings.
“Let’s go to another level,” I say, passing a look back to Hughes before leaning closer to Roquel. “There’s a dance club on the third floor, but the VIP suites on the top floor have secret rooms if you find a guy you like.”
Roquel whips her head my way. “Sold!”
45
JULIET
Of the nine levels of Inferno, Roquel seems to fall in love with the top one. Unlike the first floor, the ninth is all glass pillars, mirrors, and white surfaces.
Heels clack across the floor as she stumbles out of the elevator after an hour on the third-floor dance club. A bite of guilt stabs me in the gut as she swings into my side and I have to wrap my arm around her waist and practically drag her to one of the booths lining the wall across from giant windows that look out over the city’s skyline.
“This place is soooo great.” She giggles. “I can’ believe you don’ wanna come here all the time!”
I wince as she shrieks right next to my ear and drop her ass onto one of the snow-white couches of the booth. Hughes, now joined by Murphy, follows like two silent shadows, rounding the back of the booth to stand along the wall.
“I want ’nother drink!” Roquel demands, one arm shooting up into the air. She snaps her fingers and shakes her head, choppy black hair sliding across her shoulders as she peers towards the bar. “Where’s the waiter?”
