3

I chuckle at her face. "Really, Lisa? Aren't you ready yet? I left a note telling you to be ready by eight. Did you miss it?" She rushes over to me, grabs my hands, and pulls me up from the couch.

"I am ready; look. I don't wear this to school and work, right?" I glance at her. I can't help but wonder what she expected me to wear. I know, but expecting that is crazy.

"No way, you're dressing up in something nicer than that." She points at my outfit with her finger. She doesn't like it, which isn't surprising. I had a feeling this might happen. I stand there, looking shocked and shaking my head. She just smiles.

I don't want to show my body off. I don't want the risk of it. Plus, who is going to be looking at me anyway with her there?

"When was the last time you went out? Like, you went out, out, and enjoyed yourself and showed yourself off? Before Kyle. So move it." Walking, she begins to pull me through to the bedroom. She throws open the wardrobe doors. She is rifling through it as she does. The clothes are flying over her shoulders as she looks for something suitable. Always messy, she can't be clean. I can't help but smile. She turns around, throwing something, my hands catching it.

"Put this on and hurry up; we're late!" I look at the dress. Yeah, this is Beatrice's style, not mine. Low cut, very low cut. The thigh-high black dress is occupying a slit that goes far too high. Slipping into it, I feel like I have nothing on. Grabbing another pair of shoes, I put them on.

"Right, I am ready." I stand waiting while looking at her. I feel like I look amazing for a change. Her face falls as she stares at the shoes. Okay, she disapproves of the shoes. I knew she would. Flat, simple, and no heels.

"Put these on. Don't wear them. You're not fifty, Lisa. Throw them out altogether." Grabbing the shoes she holds, I put them on. I stand up, feeling myself wobble from the heel height. I walk over and stand in front of the mirror. I stand looking over my body. I am nothing special. not even average. My hair was wild and crimson, very hard to miss, and my green eyes almost looked out of place. I shake my head slightly.

I'm slender, yes, but still not perfect. I feel an arm wrap around me. "We look amazing, don't we?" She grins, and I turn to look at her reflection. Now Beatrice is fantastic. Long legs, blue eyes, auburn hair. Her body is impressive. The benefit of going to the gym. Well, not auburn, as she is blonde but dyes her hair to hide that fact.

Beatrice is the woman every man hangs around at the clubs and bars, hoping for a chance. I would if I were a guy, and here I am, standing next to her. I have no chance with any guys. She is stunning. I am less than average. I feel worse now than I did before—Kyle's words flowing through my head. I should have refused and just worn jeans; he was right.

"Come on. We're going to be late. The taxi has been waiting for us." Her hand grabs my arm, and she pulls a little too quickly and hard. My body wobbles, and I nearly fall. I hate heels. I hate my birthday, and sometimes, I hate Beatrice for making me go out. Walking downstairs, I climb into the taxi next to her. My nerves are now kicking in. My stomach flips and worry rises inside me.

I have not been out since Kyle. My ex and a person I want to forget and move on from. Yet, he always seems to be there. He is the person who destroyed my life so quickly. It is the reason I only ever see faults in myself. The truth is, I have not been the same since Kyle. I can't. I seem to be stuck in that mind space of being afraid to leave my house. Fearful of men. Afraid of myself, but mostly. I have no self-esteem left at all, none. Every bit has been ripped away from me.

Sure, I will see a cute guy and hope. When they do try, I never feel safe. It is like it will take something big to make me feel secure with a guy again. While I kept trying to find who I was. Every time I see a bit of my self-esteem come back, his face is there in my mind, ready to steal it away, just like today.

"What? Oh yeah. We'll be there in two minutes. Stop complaining." Beatrice's voice snapped me out of my memories. She hangs up and turns to face me as she smiles. "Just John complaining we're late. You will love it! Honestly, Lisa, you will." John is our flatmate. He is into all things tech—gaming, cameras, and computers. I don't see the fascination with it, to be honest. Why is it a waste of time sitting there pressing buttons? That is me, though. 

Maybe it is because I am not a tech person that I don't understand it. Yet so many do. I guess that is another thing Kyle hated about me. That I saw that as wasting my time. I wasn't interested in any of that. Of course, he was. He had tried to force me to be.

John is lovely. His mousy-blond hair and green eyes are amazing. He is more like a brother to me, training to be an electrician at university. The taxi finally stops. Looking up, I see the bright lights. A nightclub. Of all the places, Beatrice picks a nightclub. My mind is now screaming at me to run and fast. Just go home and avoid all this, but I can't be cruel with the effort Beatrice has put into this. Maybe just an hour?

Walking in, the music is loud, but that doesn't bother me. It is the mass of people I don't know that worries me. The fact I can't hear if someone is right behind me.

"I invited everyone, so I hired the club just for your party so that you will know everyone." Beatrice stands smiling before hugging me. "Happy Birthday." I nod at her words, looking around at the people. There is no one here I know. Where is John? I know him. I can't stop myself from laughing. The fact she thinks I know these people amazes me. Walking in, people keep coming over. You would expect them to be coming to wish me a happy birthday. Instead, they just smile at me and greet Beatrice. Some don't even notice me. 

We walk through the crowds, my eyes falling on John, and I feel myself relax slightly. He is standing with someone, no doubt another student from the university. "Look, John is there. Who is that with him?" Beatrice looks at them and then walks ahead. I watch as she reaches them, her arms wrapping around the guy in a tight embrace before she steps back.

He is taller than all of us, maybe around 6 ft 3? My eyes catch the artwork on his arms. I am walking towards them but feel like I am going slow while staring at him. Why do I feel such a pull towards this guy I don't even know?  

My heart is racing, and I feel like there is a magnet drawing me to him, my hair standing up. I watch as Beatrice's hand rubs against him, just like Beatrice would with any hot guy. Reaching them, he turns, and I am frozen. Wow, I can't stop myself from staring. Who is he?

"You must be Lisa. Happy birthday." My eyes look up to his before scanning across his body. He is big, muscle-wise. The artwork doesn't stop on his arms. I can see it on his neck as well. His smile is soft and gentle. Why do I feel the urge to touch him? Why the hell do his tattoos make me so weak?

I try to smile as my eyes take him in, in all his godlike beauty, his tattoos, beard, everything. "Hi." Is that all I can think of? Hi, and it was a weak hi as well. I should be more like Beatrice, confident and rubbing his arm to make it known I am interested.

"Lisa, this is Sean. My brother." I look at John, his eyes looking between us. Is he annoyed? Wait, John? His brother? The difference is massive, Sean's height for one. His hair and even eyes are a different colour. Why is my hair standing up? I feel like I just walked into a freezer.

"Oh, hey, and thank you." Finally, words exist within my mouth. I must look like a right fool, but something about him makes me want him. It is making me nervous, and I haven't felt this way in ages. He makes me feel safe. How? I want to touch him; my eyes look at Beatrice, and I see it on her face as well. In that case, I have no chance, no chance at all, if she is interested. I don't stand a chance. So I will give up the fight before it even starts. She wins. She gets him. I will just wait for tonight to end.

"Well, let's get a drink first. Tonight you are dancing, Lisa." Georgina drags me to the bar. Sean stood watching us as we walked off. No doubt watching Beatrice, not me.