Aesthetic Besties Novels & Stories

I did everything to be a good friend, only to be treated as my so-called best friend’s scapegoat. When her husband found cigarette ash in their house, she claimed I was the one smoking. When she snuck off for a private rendezvous with her lover, she told him she was celebrating my birthday. And when she got pregnant, she pinned the blame on me again, declaring I was consumed with jealousy—that I had spiked her drink and hired someone to violate her. Enraged, her husband marched to my doorstep wielding a blade and hacked me to death. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the exact day she had asked me to cover for her affair.

The only difference was that they had almost opposite aesthetics. Aubrey was the pretty, cute lady you had no idea could claw your eyes out. She represented yellow, pink and all things girly, and always had a smile on. Hazel, on the other hand, had a dark aesthetic. Wore dark colours, especially red. Always had red lipstick on. Seductive but sweet, to only the people she cared about. She was also girly, but the other kind. And she would absolutely claw your eyes out. But that was the only difference in them. Their aesthetic. They loved the same things.

She made sure to keep everything as simple as possible, just like how Aubrey loved it. "I'm starting to love the fact that I have a best friend who happens to be a make-up artist, a hairstylist and a photographer." Aubrey grinned as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. "I get to experiment on you, it's a win-win situation," Maria joked. She was never experimenting on Aubrey, she knew what she was doing. Aubrey took her phone and snapped a couple of selfies of her look and she took a couple of ones with Maria. After choosing the best ones, she posted them on Instagram, knowing that they would boost Maria's followers.

Patty and I talked to kill time as we both hoped the next class would hold. We talked about books, music, art, anything and everything for the next one hour. I was delighted and surprised as well to find out we had similar tastes in music and books, even movies. She listened to K-Pop too, and Imagine Dragons, Sia, Billie Eillish_ she was surprised I was into Billie _ and a few other singers I liked too. She loved Roberts, Steel, Grisham, Kellerman. We moved from discussing music to books, and then to movies.

“Here. How do I look?” She has her hair in a ponytail and is wearing a yellow halter top with white cuffed shorts. They make her tanned legs look like they go on for days. She’s already, like, five-foot-nine, so with the wedge heels she’s wearing, you know, the ones with the rope around the edges, she’s almost as tall as me. “Damn, girl. Who you fightin’?” I whistle. She’s my best friend, but I’m not blind. Ainsley is a smoke show. No joke, real deal, California dime. When people talk about effortless beauty, Ainsley is who they’re talking about.

“Ugly? No. You won’t. You’re gorgeous and he’s crazy about you.” “You didn’t see me cry into his chest like a hormonal teenager, Katie.” “He probably liked it.” “Katie!” “Okay, okay, look. Do your hair. Soft waves. That black dress that makes your collarbone look like poetry. Light makeup, the shade of lipstick that makes your lips look like trouble. You’ll be perfect.” I groaned. “You’re way too good at this.” “It’s called having a best friend who’s watched way too many enemies-to-lovers TikToks. Now go shower, exfoliate, and don’t overthink it.”

Anthony loves hot-looking, fair-complexioned ladies, as that was his type. Another chat popped up from Benita, she said, "I'm in town today, so I decided to visit you in your company. It's been a long time since we have seen each other, Anthony. I cannot wait to meet you again and to hang out. Aren't you around? I'm through with my studies now, so I would like to meet you." Anthony read all of Benita's messages. After viewing her profile, he liked how hot she dressed and looked. Furthermore, he may be cool-headed at home, but he loves hot women who know how to dress seductively.

Belle interrupted. "Of course Mademoiselle," I smirked at her. "You too act wat more cheesy. I had never seen this view of you Echo?" she snapped in between. "Cheesy?" Belle asked her best friend. "No, I am not," Belle answered. "Obviously yes. Like a typical husband and wife. It feels really weird to see you like this but I completely love this side of yours. I mean I never thought you would come out of that Jeremy thing and your selfish books," Rebecca said as she plopped on couch.

“And while I do not claim perfection, I will not be crucified for consensual connections made decades ago.” He framed the relationships as mutual. Poetic. Romantic. He didn’t deny Cassandra’s story. He simply reshaped it. A younger woman seduced by potential. By art. By the beauty of being understood. He presented emails. Old ones. Cut, spliced, decontextualized. Her teenage writing made to look like devotion. It was manipulative. Cunning. And it worked, for some. The comments turned. “Too convenient.” “She’s just mad he moved on.”

Beauty said, standing in between them like a peacemaker. "She is so superficial, it stinks," Shelley replied. "I didn't mean it like that," Lisa replied with a frown. "How did you mean it?" Shelley replied, her voice rising just enough to catch the attention of a few nearby guests. "I-I was talking about aesthetics. I just wanted a certain look," Lisa said, suddenly flustered. "A certain look?" Shelley cut in, with her eyes blazing. "Please, continue. Tell me how my twin sister, who's been nothing but kind to you, didn't make the cut because she doesn't fit your P*******t board wedding. Go ahead, say it with your chest."