The Paparazzi

Natasha

I sat down quietly on the bar, leaned over and grabbed myself a bottle of vodka.
"Thought you wanted to quit Natt..." Remy reminded me.
I shrugged. I needed something to steady my nerves now. I pressed the bottle to my lips and took a big swallow. I sighed. 'So good!' I thought, but I felt the familiar sting of guilt. "So... Why are we here?", I asked leaning against Aron.

Aidan
He followed Silv and alexia as they calmed Giselle. He had known her since they long ago when they ahd met at a party in London. Since they they were friends, maily because he ahd a cruch on her...until he met Silv.

"Elle,are you ok?" He asked her and before he could even finish, Giselled was alredy hugging him tightly.

"Paparazzi got over them at a store" Silv explained as alexia rubbed her arm gently.

"So...why are we here?" Natasha asked with a sup of Vodka in her hands. For aidan that was nothing and it was the msot stupid way of getting high.

"For this" Remy, answered. "For this to stop" Aidan could not quite get the idea, maybe because he was still too high ot it was just because the idea was rather confusing.

Giselle
She was surrounded by her friends, friends who as surprising at it seemed were still with her and always helped her trhough all this kind of situations. Alexia was patting her softly while they all heard what Remy had to say.

Silv

Silv broke away from the group surrounding Nat and walked over to Remy. "Rem," she said quietly, "do you know what today is?"

Remy stopped talking for a moment, his eyes suddenly grave. "The 25th?" He voice unbarely sad.

Silv nodded. "Its been two years since they killed Mom..." her voice cracked and she plumped down on the couch and let tears fall.

Remy

I sighed, my breathing suddenly a bit thick, as I hugged Silv to me. "It's OK. It'll be OK. We made this group for a reason, didn't we?" She nods, sniffling, and I go on. "We made this group to make sure that nothing like that would ever happen again. And no one has died recently, have they?" I went on, trying to comfort her. "Yea, but Rem," She said, looking up at me wioth red eyes. "People aren't dying now, but Mom died then. She died then and she can't come back and she can't see us helping. Because she died then, not now." I nod, understanding what she means, even if it might not make sense. I hug her to me again, resting my chin on her shoulder. She smells like perfume. "Want to spend the night at my place?" I ask, knowing being with her would bring me comfort, as it most likely would to her. She nods, wipes her tears away, and shakes out her hair. "So," she asks. "What should we do now?"