Empire of Lies

Meredith Before

New Year’s Eve

Nights like tonight, I wished I had an Instagram account with tons of followers. If I had one, I’d pick this very moment to flip through the hundreds of shots I’d taken of myself in Fahrenheit 900’s glittering VIP lobby. I’d select the one of me standing in front of the colossal mirror in a revealing, emerald low-cut dress and sparkling silver stilettos. Then I’d write one of those vapid and pretty posts in hopes of garnering thousands of likes.

Currently looking at myself in one of the city’s biggest mirrors to REFLECT on everything I’ve learned this year. Getting ready to bring in my New Year the right way. With tons of friends, a VIP table at NYC’s hottest club, and wishes for a fresh start at midnight. #dayinthelife #livingmybestlife #NewYorkGirl #fahrenheit900

Having something to do would make my wait time to get into the club more bearable. Even with a VIP reservation, getting inside of this place was like getting into Fort Knox. They’d asked for my driver’s license, made me go through three different metal detectors, and asked me how well I knew the other person on the reservation at least six times.

Sighing, I looked over at the group of women who were standing across the room, do

“Are you here with them?” The bouncer stepped in front of me.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m here to meet someone else.”

“Jameson Turner, correct?”

I nodded.

“Okay, wait here.” He walked over to the group of girls and escorted them through the double doors that led inside the club first.

Wondering where the hell he was, I pulled out my phone and sent Jameson a text message.

Me: I’m here. Are you still coming?

His response was immediate.

Jameson: I’m still a little tied up right now, so I’m ru

I groaned and cursed myself for giving up a night with Michael for this. Before I could toss my phone back into my purse, it buzzed against my fingertips.

A phone call from Gillian.

“Ahhhhh! Oh my god! It’s an emergency!” She screamed. Then she laughed. “Am I too late, or am I right on time to save you from your terrible date?”

“You’re beyond late, and you fucking know it.” I couldn’t help but laugh, too.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “We had bad cell service in Monaco. Did you manage to get out of it quickly?”

“Yeah, and—” I lowered my voice. “I ended up meeting the sexiest guy I’ve ever met in my life. Long story, but now I’m waiting to get through a rescheduled date with Jameson and hoping I get some good sex at the end, since I foolishly failed to seal the deal with the other guy.”

She sighed. “Meredith, I need to say something to you before we go into the new year…”

“No, wait,” I said, slowly retelling her the story of yesterday piece by piece—wishing I could give her a better ending. One where I got what I’d wished for in the end. “This other guy is straight out of my wet dream list. Well, he’s now my number one top wet dream. I can’t tell you how often I’ve thought about him over the past few days. If I ever see him again, I won’t make the same mistake and let him go. I can tell that he has a big cock, too. I saw the imprint through his pants when we were in the cab.”

Silence.

“Are you there, Gillian?”

“I’m here,” she said, her tone soft. “Can I please be honest with you for a few seconds?”

“About what?”

“Everything you just said.”

“No.” I shook my head. “It doesn’t sound like this is going to be the good type of honesty, and I just want to get through tonight and be happy.”

“I think you’re looking for something more than fucking,” she said, ignoring my ‘no’. “I think you should tell this Jameson guy at the end of the night that he’s not what you’re looking for. I mean, you can still sleep with him, of course, but…I think you should finally be honest with yourself. All those one night stands in the past never got you anywhere. You’ve always wanted something more, but you’re too scared to admit it to yourself.”

“Gillian…” I felt my heart begi

“I’ve always thought of you as my older sister,” she said. “Even though you’re five years younger than me, but I think it’s my turn to give you some much-needed advice.” She paused. “I think it’s time for you to stop trying to fit into the old version of yourself and change.”

“No,” I said, feeling a lump rising in my throat. “It’s just time for me to get off the phone with you…”

I ended the call before she could say another word, before she could infect me with another drop of her unwanted truth serum. I clicked on her name, prepared to send her an angry text, but she beat me to it.

Gillian: I love you, Mer, and I just want what’s best for you. No judgment, ever. (If you see that guy again, I would like to know how he rates on your cock scale.)

“I’m ready to take you in now, Miss.” The bouncer stepped in front of me, holding out a pretty black pouch. “You’ll need to give me your cell phone first, though.”

“What?”

“No cell phones allowed inside.” He shrugged. “It’s the number one rule, since we have so many high-profile guests who don’t want their pictures taken.”

“Well, I’ll just keep my phone in my purse.”

“That’s fine,” he said, crossing his arms. “You can also just stand out here.”

“I’m waiting on someone to get here. I’m sure he’ll need to text me at some point, right?”

“No.” He grabbed my phone from my hands, then he tossed it into the pouch before sca

I obliged and the moment I walked through them, my jaw dropped to the floor. Every inch of the hallway was glowing in silver and orange lights, and digital flames were dancing under my feet. At the far end, I could see flashing red lights from the main part of the club.

The bouncer led me onto a glass elevator, and we rode it up three floors. When we stepped off, I felt as if I was in a completely different world. I blinked a few times, taking several seconds to process things as I followed his lead.

I noticed tons of celebrities sitting around plush red and black booths—smoking cigars and tossing back champagne with ease.

“Here you are,” the bouncer said, stopping in front of a shiny black booth and table. “The waitress will come up in a few minutes to accommodate you. Welcome to Fahrenheit 900 and Happy New Year.” He walked away, and I moved to the balcony—looking down at the dance floor below.

It was covered in flames, and they lapped against every inch of the walls, giving the effect of hell. The bar extended across the entire right side of the club, and hostesses waded through the crowd with their trays held high, offering champagne and shots.

On the main stage, the DJ spun hits on a table that featured oversized devil horns, and on the smaller stages, two exotic dancers dressed in shimmering gold, twirled on poles—completely in sync with each other.