Page 5 of House of Bass

“My favourite person in the world,” I gleefully reply, as I whirl around to be greeted by the face of my childhood friend, Daniel Akinson . His gorgeous brown skin glows under the light and with him comes a genuine smile that was created to make you swoon. He is draped in a brown suede bomber jacket and jeans that blend nicely making him appear every bit as perfect as he always does. The definition of tall, dark and handsome.

Dan wraps his arms around me into a hug that lasts as long as I need to, “I missed you while you were away, blondie. London just isn’t the same without you in it.”

“Missed you too,” I mumble in his ear. Dan is Arden’s best friend, we all went to the same primary school, the two of them were inseparable as kids and even now as adults. He was always around which inadvertently led him to become my best friend too. If there is anyone in the world who knows me almost as well as Arden it is him. He’s like my brother.

We pull apart from each other and he asks, “How was the house of Bass this summer?”

“Every bit as chaotic as you’d expect,” I reply with a sigh

“Dad or troublemaker?” He is referring to Anastasia and her affinity for landing herself in shit that raises our mother’s pulse. Him and her can never have a civil conversation, bickering is second nature to them.

“The former but I’ll tell you about it later. For now, can you please make me something decent to drink? This is awful,” I wave the beer in my hand at him and put a thumbs down. Dan is excellent at making any kind of drink, I desperately missed his batch of Pimm’s this summer.

“You should’ve come looking for me as soon as you got here instead of hiding,” he tells me with a knowing stare, daring me to deny it, and I do.

“I wasn’t hiding, just resting until I had to go be around all of them.”

“I saw the pictures,” he interrupts.

“What pictures?” I feign confusion.

His face grows a little serious as he gestures to my eyes. “This is about him, I can tell.”

“It’s not a big deal, we went out to eat brunch. Friends have brunch. Not everything I do is about him.”

“Yes, it is.” he says matter-of-factly. “And the two of you have never been just friends.”

My lips downturns because I know he is right, even if I don’t want to hear it. He holds out his hand to me, “Let’s go find the others, we’ve been waiting for you.” I have no choice but to take it and follow him.

The living room is packed with a multitude of faces, many of whom I recognise from uni and others I have never seen before but that’s how these always go. It doesn’t matter who hosts, the parties always bring on a herd of stragglers who want to exist in proximity to us.

We spot MJ and Arden together, the former has a drink in hand swaying to the music in her short sequined purple dress with spaghetti straps and heels that accentuates her legs. You wouldn’t be able to tell she was five-foot three.

Next to them sits the final member of our group, Devon Cohen-Lee, simultaneously bored and amused as she watches MJ dance. The media calls her United Nations simply because her mother is half Chinese half Dutch while her father is half Korean half English (their nicknames are never creative nor good, they also call her the Ice Queen because all her pap shots are of her glaring). Her dark hair is pin straight and almost to her waist, wearing a silver halter top and black skirt. She is a dancer like me, we met in ballet class as kids and were joined at the hip. She became fast friends with Arden and Daniel too, which was how it became the four of us.

It is different now though, more tense and charged between me and her. Some days I wonder why I keep her in my life considering all we ever do is argue. Before, she was my designated girl best friend, but for some reason when Madeleine-James came into the picture, it felt like she couldn’t tolerate being around me. I get it, because most days I too can barely tolerate being around me. In spite of it all, she is family and the five of us have been in each other’s lives for so long we really don’t know how to exist without each other.

Arden notices me first. His six-foot four frame sits on a chair against the wall, unflinching and bored, his long legs crossed. He is neither lean nor too broad but you can tell he works out. He’s been playing tennis since he was five years old, if you can’t find him in the classroom your next bet is the tennis court.

I am doing everything in my power not to draw attention to Arden’s inescapable presence. It takes all of me not to look at him but at my best friend who notices me immediately after and runs to jump into my arms, “Annie, we’ve been waiting for you.” Each word she says is slurred and elongated.

“I couldn’t leave you to run the gaff alone for too long,” I say, with a smile holding her face. Arden watches me as I speak to my best friend, his stares feel so heavy. Like he is peeling off all the layers and can see right through me.

“Buzzkill duo have been trying to cut me off,” she mock-whispers with a frown.

“Ugh, they suck,” I jokingly frown at her.

“Don’t they just?” she says, and we fall into a fit of giggles, as Arden and Devon both roll their eyes.

“I forget how much I hate being in the same space as the two of you,” Devon grumbles. She is sat by the miniature bar that Dan never let anyone use besides him (he is very particular about his things). Batting my eyes, I walk right up to her and plant a loud, obnoxious peck on her cheek, “Nice to see you too.”

She glares but leaves the mark of the red lipstick on her cheek.

“How much has she had to drink?” I point to MJ who is doing a version of the worm upright.

“One too many,” Devon replies, she nods to Arden, “That’s why he told her the last one in her hand is the final.”

“She’s already pissed anyway. If she’s going to wake up with a hangover tomorrow she might as well drink as much as she wants.”