"No, I shall not!! I despise parties, you of all people should no that!" I complained. The blonde haired, crystal blue eyed girl in front of me only laughed. She smiled warmly, trying to convince me. She examined her manicure closely, frowning at the chip on her pointer finger nail. With a yawn, she reached into her bag and pulled out a nail file. 

"But, darling, you're 17!! And it's really not even a party!! Honestly, dear, it's a concert!!" She begged. That was my best friend. A 25 year old British mother in the body of a 17 year old New York girl. Her ponytail began to swing, her nervous quirk.

"Ugh, fine. Where are we going?" My voice was less than happy.

"Cheer up. We are going to a concert. I heard about BTS being in New York for a concert this weekend, and they did win all those awards. It will be fun!!" 

"Alright, ill see if my mom will buy me a ticket."

"Actually, the tickets sold out in August." She sighed and looked at the calendar.

"But it's OCTOBER!! Didn't they start selling in August?!" 

"Yes, but no worries, i knew you'd agree so I bought tickets." She smiled and the oven dinged. We were in my kitchen, preparing ourselves for the torture that was to come. I had put cinnamon rolls in the oven and then we talked. My kitchen was modeled in modern black style, like the rest of the house. I sometimes wonder if mom has the maid shine the floors every hour because they never have scuffs, dirt smudges, or anything else. Just clear black wood floor. 

I pull out the homemade rolls and apply my famous frosting, well.... it's famous in my house. Ivey, my best friend in the whole world, leans over the counter to glance at them.

"Yumm..." 

I smiled and transferred them to a plate. I climbed on top of the lower counter, setting the plate on the higher bar area. She and I were across from each other now, and I was sitting my ass on the counter. My brother, Michael, wandered in.

"Mikey!! How was the basketball game?! Did you win?" I asked happily.

The 18 year old brown eyed brown haired boy glanced up. He smiled at Ivey, who was seductively twirling her hair around her finger and batting her eyelashes.

"Hey, Mike." Her voice was flirty, making me blush. She grabbed a can of soda that was meant for me and tossed it at him. He caught it easily.

"Hey Ivey. Hey, sis. Yeah, my team won. I got 6/8 points, it was really fun. Are those cinnamon rolls?" His deep voice explained everything rather fast, making me slightly mad. 

"Yes, they are, yes, you can have a few." I shot. He grabbed two, bit into one and stomped upstairs without another word.

"Ivey! What was that?!" I grabbed her can of soda and took a greedy sip. 

"What was what?" Her blush was more red than a tomato. 

"You flirting with my brother, that's what!!" 

"Me?! No way!! Mikey is like a brother!!"

"HE IS A BROTHER!!" 

"FINE! It's not my fault your brother is hot!"

"Eww!!" 

We finished up the snack in a confused silence, her sigh signaling what we both knew.

"Ok, how much did you get?" I groaned.

"6 pages of English, 4 social studies, I have a test in science next week, and 8 in math." She held up her homework folder, which was thick as mud. She put it back in her bag and looked at me.

"I got the same, but my test is in social studies and I got no homework there, I got 4 in science." 

She nodded and we both grabbed our bags. We trotted up to staircases and then sighed at the third level. I went straight to my bedroom, flinging open the door. My room was modeled in white and gold, the floor white, walls gold, gold bedspread on a white bed, heavy white velvet drapes, a gold desk, two fluffy white pouch chairs, a white MacBook pro, etc.

I threw my white leather backpack down and turned on the MacBook.

Ivey was busy petting my black cat. She was always fascinated by his one blue one green eye.

"Devil, how are you baby?" She stroked his soft head. I pulled out our homework folders and slapped them on the desk, Devil only stretching across my bed in reaction.

Ivey came over and plopped into her chair. We googled, calculated, wrote, erased, and ate candy for 4 hours. When we were both brain dead and couldn't function, I screamed in agony. Math was evil.

Mental

Abuse

To

Humans

I yawned, and my door flew open. Mickey stood there, holding a kitchen knife and looking worried.

"Mike, what's wrong?" Ivey flirted more.

"I heard a scream!" He yelled.

"It was me. I was sick of math." I admitted. He sighed and stomped off. 

Only an hour later, Ivey had to go home and I had to eat. I made tacos for dinner, ate some, served some, and went straight to my shower. I was exhausted, and peeling off my fitted gray dress. Next came off my black bra and underwear, then I jumped in the shower. 

"Harley!! We are home!!" My parents yelled. «don't know why you bother, you'll be gone early tomorrow morning for the whole weekend»

"Kay! Tacos in the fridge!!" I yelled back, rinsing my hair of the shampoo that plagued it. Big white bubbles covered my feet, and I giggled.

I finished up, dried, dressed in a white shirt and black shorts, and went to bed.

And I couldn't fall asleep