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they were intimidating as hell.
    The guard on the left, a gigantic guy with buzzed black hair and a hard expression, took us in with a small twist to his thick lips.
    With large diamond studs glinting in both his ears he was an intimidating sight, “Ladies, how can I help you?”
    “Um…I’m on the list,” I said as I clutched my purse and tried to keep from withering beneath his surprised look.
    Okay, so me and my friends weren’t supermodels or wealthy socialites, but we weren’t gutter trash either. The stares of the crowd grew and a couple women near the front of the line openly ridiculed Joy’s breasts as being porn star implants and instantly labeled her a whore. As they began to cut my friend down I was having a hard time not going over there and putting my foot up their pampered asses. Joy’s self-esteem wasn’t the best, nowhere near as bad as mine, but she was very sensitive and uncomfortable about her figure due to a lifetime of men ogling her admittedly sexy as hell body. And lets not forget how Joy’s older sister loved tearing Joy down. I know her sister is just jealous of Joy, but it still hurts my friend and has made her hyper aware of how other people see her.
    Listening to those women cut Joy down added a snap to my words, “Hannah Barnes. That’s my name.”
    He pulled out his phone and checked the screen for a moment before looking at me with raised eyebrows and said something. I missed the first part as the doors to the club opened and some gorgeous, laughing women stumbled out with their arms hooked around their male handsome counterparts, music booming from the club within.
    It wasn’t until the doors closed again that I heard him say, “…gold-level VIP?”
    Distracted by the sight of the model-perfect people going down the steps, I said, “What?”
    “Why didn’t you tell me you were a gold-level VIP, Ms. Barnes?” He smiled, suddenly all charming and attentive.
    “But I’m not. I mean, I won a contest.”
    “Says here you’re a member.” He took a step closer and lowered his voice. “Ms. Barnes, please believe me when I say if by some miracle you accidentally got gold VIP status, don’t fight it. We’re talking free food and drinks for life.”
    Shit, I’d eat here five days a week if I could and save a ton of money on grocery bills.
    I wondered if they served breakfast.
    “Wow…okay.”
    “Excellent.” He winked at Joy, and I thought she might pass out as he unhooked the purple velvet rope for us next to a small gold sign that said “Elite Member Entrance Only”. “Please go inside, ladies. A hostess will be waiting for you. Enjoy your night.”
    The women who’d been making disparaging remarks stared with open jealousy and I couldn’t help but give them a catty, smug smile as I strutted past them with my girls. Yes, it was petty of me, but it wasn’t every day I got to be a VIP anything. He must be wrong about the whole gold-level whatever, but for one night I was going to pretend that I was indeed a very important person, and that people knew I existed.
    Though I wasn’t proud to admit it, I craved positive attention the way a drug addict craves their next fix, and I’d put up with a lot of bullshit to get it. I’ve gotten better, Joy has had to give me a couple “come to Jesus” speeches about letting people use me without giving anything back, but it’s a constant battle to keep from settling back into my default people-pleaser mode.
    For a while after my sister’s death, I’d wondered if I hadn’t been the one who’d died, because my parents treated me like I didn’t exist. If it wasn’t for Joy’s family basically adopting me, I don’t think I would have survived my parents’ cold silence without losing my mind.
    After graduation, I’d moved from Tucson to Tempe with Joy and Kayla to go to college. I was at the University of Arizona on a full scholarship I’d busted my ass for, and worked at a diner to make ends meet, which sucked but I