Status Quo

Pounding music, sharp beats told her body how to move. Curtains of cocoa brown hair danced along her back in waves, eventually reaching her mid-back. Her creamy white skin looked tan under the strobe lights as the music continued to command her body.

Her arms were raised over her head while her head was tilted back, eyes closed as she reveled in the booming techno in her ears. She was dancing alone in a sea of people all dressed in the same regard - short skirts and dresses, tight pants, revealing - or no - shirts, and various other garbs. The only thing tying her to these people was her clothing: an unbuttoned black button-up and dark jean mini-skirt.

She often felt hands 'accidentally' touch her as she danced, but she never minded. It only made her smirk. Why? Because if they knew who she was, they would snatch their hands away as if they touched and were afflicted by acid.

Riley Michaels knew she was hated. She preferred to think that they were simply jealous. But, in reality, what they thought of her meant little to her. She didn't even care about how her friends viewed her. She was who she was, and if people didn't take her for herself, she didn't need them.

Only when she felt a pounding against her temple did she slide through the crowded bodies to find refuge among the empty tables. Even though the party was relatively clean so far, there was always those few who would ruin it by getting very physical with some of the underage party-goers. Riley rested her chin on her palm, a soft smirk gracing her lips.

Oh, how she loved the party scene.

"Hey, Riley!" An acquaintance of hers called out, cradling a large brown paper bag in his muscled arms. She only knew his face - everyone knew the face of the resident quarterback. Guessing the bag held booze, Riley gladly joined his small group in disposing of the alcohol. Besides, the booze would lessen her growing headache until morning.

Once morning came, however, the tall girl regretted her decision. The rising sun burned her eyes, even behind her eyelids. It warmed her skin, a scalding contrast to the cold car hood she had passed out on.

Numerous curses were strung out as everyone began waking up to their afflictions - outside the affliction was mostly hangovers. Riley squinted her eyes, hoping to block out the sun. It only seemed to worsen the pounding of her head.

The sudden vibration at her hip made her scream, as it was amplified into a horrible feeling. The others with hangovers moaned as her scream and the sun together gave them a headache like no other. She quickly grabbed her phone, not wanting to get even more disorientated by everyone's moanings and yellings.

Riley looked at the text with clouded eyes. It was one amongst twenty-six unread texts, and she had no patience to read the others. The words were slightly scrambled up from her blurry eyes, but she had gotten the gist of the message. She slid her cell phone shut.

"Fuck, I forgot about them," She cussed, cradling her head. She was thankful that her friend's house was only a few blocks away from her current position, as she would have to walk. She was simply supposed to be at the house for a girls' weekend and she had already missed out on Friday night's activities, which were always the same as the previous girls' weekend. As she made her way to her friend's house, they were all painting their nails in the driveway in their pajamas, even though the sun had just risen a few minutes ago. Riley shook her - still throbbing - head and hoped they wouldn't yell at her this moment, for the sake of her headache alone.