Strip or Dare - CHAPTER 34 THE END (UPDATED 11/29/2020)

Chapter 22: Before the Party

Allison

I haven't got any time to ponder about Adam Payne's bastard brother who never looked as so much like him, given the angelic face.

Mische had been waiting for me inside her red Porsche convertible, with her Gucci sunglasses covering most of her face. I took a seat in her car and buckled my seatbelt. She hadn't said a word, no enlightenment about today's itinerary but Mische was Mische. She was this hot goddess party-goer with long tanned legs and dyed blonde hair on the outside but she was this sweet and sensitive chic inside. Seth was her first love and nobody ever beats that feeling so yeah, she was pretty devastated.

We drove around Johnson City first, passing by coffeshops and bookstores. There weren't a lot of people ouside. It was forty degrees outside that the road looked like a twisted straight line from my eyes.

Tired from Mische's constant sighing and exhaling, I turned the car stereo on. Jessie J's Domino was playing. I bobbed my head slightly up and down, feeling better now that I had gotten out of my French class which was a four-hour class from nine until twelve. Before, I signed up for this class which was required for me to finish my course, I was ecstatic. I've always dreamed about living in Paris, France, looking at the Eiffel Tower with my French husband with wine in our hands.

Sorry, I just have some fetish with French guys. French are supposedly the most romantic folks in the world right, but the language was kind of difficult. No offense meant; I still love France.

"Do you want to stop by McDonalds or whatever for lunch?" she asked, her eyes set straight to the road ahead of us.

"Sure." I said. "I can settle with the drive thru."

After loads of greasy fries, burgers and coke, Mische took me to the mall weaving in and out of the crowd silently. I followed her mutely, keeping a safe distance just in case all hells break loose, (Mische, sometimes has anger management issues) sipping on my coke. She walked inside Ansophrie, her favorite clothing line which mostly sells Paris fashion-based clothes but has wide range of designs customers can choose from.

I sighed, tossing my empty drink on the nearest rubbish bin before entering inside. Ansophrie never failed to make my jaw drop. Walking inside it was pretty much walking on a sea of clothes and dresses. A plain shirt costs $50,000 which I think was ridiculously overly priced but this is Ansophrie and it had made itself popular amongst other fashion brands like Dolce and Gabbana and Chanel.

Mische used to tell me how she wanted to Ansophrie to be her walk-in closet.

Smiling at the thought, I went right behind her and idly watched her touch every dress meticulously. I remember how I hate it when she shops back then because she would weigh every dress like a piece of expensive meat - touch the fabrics, study the design, make sure nobody else would be wearing the same and then put it back on the hanger simply because it was too wrong under her scrutiny.

I dare not touch anything. The cheapest thing I had ever seen was a $35,000 plain bra and the rest goes as high as $200,000. What I don't understand was why would women spent a thousand bucks for clothes she could have bought on a different store on a much lesser price? I mean, it's okay to splurge on something you like but splurging is totally different from wasting dollars.

"I got you this." she said, bringing out of my daze. We came to a halt as she picked out a black leather pants (which reminded me a lot of cat woman) from the metal rack. Didn't she used to wear something like that? "And this." she added, holding up a floral midriff-baring tank top that looked more like a corset except that it has thin straps for the arms. I bet it would make me look like a sexy little devil minus the pitch fork and the horn.