Page 1 of Lies Like Love

1

Fel

Glitteronconcreteisfitting for downtown Los Angeles. Fake beauty covering up dirt. This city might look pretty from the outside, but it finds a way of making a mess of anyone who dares step foot in it.

Bright lights and movie stars lure the innocent with money, fame, and glamour. All things that can be found up in the hills. But in the filthy chaos of downtown, they’re far away and unattainable.

It’s something I remind myself of as I scoop up body jewelry from the sidewalk and silently curse my best friend for convincing me to follow her to Twisted Roses Tattoo Parlor in the middle of the night.

“I told you this was a bad idea.” My shoulders deflate, as I pick up a gem-encrusted barbell and dig at the grit now embedded in every crevice.

Maren reaches for a belly button ring and holds it up, frowning as she hands it back to me.

“How else do you expect your business to take off?” She pops up to stand and dips her thumbs into her pockets. She’s glancing down at where I’m crouched on the sidewalk, probably looking desperate as I try to salvage anything I can. “Body piercings don’t sell themselves, Fel. And the small shops aren’t cutting it. Your vision’s too narrow. I’m helping you broaden your mindset.”

I tuck the fallen barbells back into the case and scoop up the few beads that aren’t covered in whatever disgusting grime coats this city, before standing up.

“Don’t pretend you forced me out of the apartment tonight for the sake of my business.”

Maren smirks at my narrowed gaze but doesn’t bother arguing. We both know she isn’t dragging me to downtown LA in the middle of the night to provide life support to my semi-successful, suddenly struggling jewelry business, no matter how good a friend she is.

“Exactly.” I shake my head.

“What?” She shrugs, grabbing my hand and pulling me along beside her. “He was hot, okay? I’m not going to apologize for appreciating a god-like man when I see one. Tall, fit, a pierced tongue I’d like to—”

“Stop.” I don’t need the filthy scenario she’s imagining burned into my brain. “No guy is hot enough to wander downtown LA in the middle of the night for. I don’t care what he looks like.”

And I don’t.

Tattooed arms and a wicked gaze don’t warrant chasing someone who isn’t willing to make a move. Call me cynical or old-fashioned, but men aren’t worth that kind of effort. Especially the hot ones. All they’ll do is use it against you.

“Come on, Fel.” Maren rolls her eyes. “Forget the hottie I’m going to let fuck me into next Sunday and think about yourself for a minute. You know I’m right about this. Celebrities get inked and pierced at Twisted Roses. This isn’t just any tattoo parlor. If you convince them to sellyourjewelry to their clients, your business is going to be golden.”

If only her enthusiasm was contagious. Because right now, I need her to be right.

I’ve been making jewelry since high school. Back then I never intended to do anything with it beyond passing out friendship bracelets and decorating my wrists. It was a hobby, nothing more.

In my family feedingdreamswas a waste of time when it could be better spent climbing social ladders. I was groomed to follow the perfectly curated path Mom and my grandparents laid out for me. A path that entailed many things—none of which involved spending my life doing something forme.

But that’s what I did, even if sometimes I wonder if I should have just listened to them.

Starting a jewelry business sounded simple growing up in a world where everything was handed to me the second I asked for it. Money, opulence, all I could ever want at my fingertips.

But that was a different life—a different me. Now each step I take feels bigger and more intimidating.

My family’s plan for me would have been a safe route, while my instincts are constantly veering me toward danger.

Like right now, as I walk through downtown LA—well outside the parts of the city I’m comfortable with as I chase possibilities. Betting on the hope that the Twisted Roses piercer takes pity on a girl looking for a chance.

How did I let Maren talk me into this?

“Just trust me.” Maren rests her head on my shoulder like she’s reading my thoughts.

“Famous last words.”

I love my best friend, but she has a way of finding trouble. On the outside, her life is seemingly polished and put together. She has a comfortable job working for a plastic surgeon’s office when she doesn’t need to work. Her family comes from old money. Generations of wealth that’s rare in a city bleeding with overnight success and viral fame. Dollar signs that hide the fact that she isn’t happy in their world any more than I was.

But unlike me, Maren plays their game just enough to use their pristine world as a disguise. The more money her parents hand her the more reckless she becomes. And here I am, following her into the chaos.

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