A big crowd was waiting outside the club as she walked to the entrance. A bunch of them were people who were waiting to get in, while most were fans, wanting to get a glimpse of their favorite celebrities and of course, there were the dreaded paparazzi.

“Can I help you?” A large African-American man stepped in front of her as she tried to cut the line and enter the club. In her obsession with finding Lizzy she had forgotten that this was LA, and one simply does not walk into a club.

“My friends are in there,” she said, trying the oldest trick in the book.

“Oh really? What are their names?” The man picked up a list. What’s the point in lying? she concluded.

“Mickey Nicks and Insurrection,” she replied, mustering up all the confidence she could.

The man smiled then let out a little laugh, looking her up and down.

“You’re ‘friends’ with Mickey?”

Rory didn’t like the way he said friends, because she knew what that meant.

“Yes, he’s my friend.”

“I don’t think so, lady. I’ve seen Mickey come here with a lot of his women ‘friends’ and you ain’t his type,” he smirked.

“I’m not that kind of a friend.”

“Oh, none of them are.” He crossed his arms and a frown came onto his face like he had heard this line a hundred times before.

“Look I really need to get in there. Can you please cut me some slack?”

“And so do all of these people.” He nodded at the line behind her. “If you want to get in, then I suggest you wait in the line like the rest of them.”

“Look, it’s a very urgent matter. Mickey would be very unhappy if he knew that you didn’t let me in,” she lied.

“I’ll risk that.” He grinned. Clearly, he knew Mickey personally and had probably guessed that she was lying.

“Would you risk the twenty bucks that you would get if you let me in?” she tried to put on a smile and as soon as she said it, she knew that it wouldn't work. She wasn’t one of those people who could smoothly slide in a twenty and get people to do her bidding.

The man grunted and pointed to the back of the line. There was nothing Rory could do. Her Uber was still waiting, her luggage was in there, and the driver was probably irritated at her. Might as well pay him off and set him free.

As she walked toward the Uber, a bunch of cars drove up to the front. A big limo and a couple of vintage muscle cars, although no one got out of them once they were parked. A commotion followed their arrival as she realized that a bunch of people were exiting the club.

The paparazzi and the fans rushed to the barricades that could barely contain them. The people waiting in line immediately pulled out their phones to make videos and take pictures. Big burly security guys appeared out of nowhere and surrounded the group that was leaving the club.

In that big crowd of people, Rory saw the blond-haired head of Mickey Nicks. Right next to him was Lizzy, along with a couple of other girls who looked like typical LA models. Rory ran back, shouting Lizzy’s name. There was a big crowd that she had to get through and she wasted no time in making her way through them.

The crowd pushed her back and Rory realized that the task was much more difficult than she had thought.

Instead of shouting Lizzy’s name, she started pleading with the paparazzi to give way, but this was their livelihood and they were in no mood to lose their prime spots. A couple of them did let her have an inch to place her foot, but most were too busy taking shots of the celebrities leaving the club to even hear her.

Rory saw Lizzy enter the limo. The short dress she was wearing might as well not be there at all. It was barely hiding anything. Rory couldn’t get in Lizzy’s line of sight, but she could tell that the young girl was heavily intoxicated.

“Lizzy!” Rory shouted, but her voice was drowned out by the sounds of the crowd and the clicking of cameras. Just then Mickey turned around to flash a peace sign at the paparazzi and Rory was sure that he saw her in the crowd. Their eyes met, but there was no sign of recognition on his face. Either he saw through her or he simply did not remember her.

Rory elbowed a plump paparazzo in the side and managed to get a bit ahead. She could now see a little more of what was going on. The paparazzi got rowdier and more vocal as a tall blonde in a stunning dress exited the club. Rory’s breath got stuck in her throat.

Tanya Cox. Rory’s lips pursed tightly. Forget the sight, just the name of that woman was enough to send Rory into a frenzy. It took a second for Rory to realize that she was trapped in the middle of the crowd as more fans had come up behind her at the sight of Tanya Cox. Their excitement was through the roof.

All of them wanted a glimpse of her and they had their cellphones out, trying to take a picture. In the process, Rory was being pushed against the paparazzi in front of her who were kept back only by a barricade and the big burly bouncers from the nightclub.

Rory was feeling claustrophobic, sandwiched between one tall guy and a rather muscular woman who kept giving her a dirty look. Goddammit, I need some air.

“Lizzy!” Rory shouted again in vain, as if her voice would be heard over this commotion. She was so close and yet so far from her friend. No way am I giving up now. Rory took a deep breath and tried to make way to reach up front.

Tanya Cox was busy posing for pictures and giving sweet smiles to the paparazzi. Rory froze as she saw Arsen Ford walk out of the club and greet Tanya, both of them posing for pictures. Arsen had a smile on his face. He looked happy. Rory’s heart sank and slipped down into a dark space. She wanted to run away, to be invisible. To be back in Montcove, in her safe, comfortable home.

Lizzy. It’s about Lizzy, she reminded herself. She thought about shouting Arsen’s name, but she didn’t want help from him at all. More celebrities that she didn’t know came out of the club, and the paparazzi started their regular routine of screaming for pictures.

Arsen and Tanya were nowhere in sight. As Rory gained some more space, she saw that Arsen was ushering her into another car.

“Arsen!” she shouted, involuntarily. He was her last hope after all. “Arsen!” She jumped up, raising her hand. The paparazzo next to her chuckled, thinking her some crazy fan.

Arsen turned around, but he just smiled and randomly waved at the cameras. “Arsen!” One last try. Being confined to a small space, tightly packed in with a whole bunch of bodies, made her feel woozy. The claustrophobia was real and the body odor of all the people around her was making her nauseous.

“Arsen! Lizzy!” she screamed in an exasperated voice, as her knees gave way. A blackness came in front of her eyes as Rory felt all of her strength leave her body.

Rory didn’t know how long she had been lying on the sidewalk, but her eyes opened as she heard someone calling out to her.

“Lady? Hey lady?” It was the Uber driver who was fanning her face. “Are you okay?” he asked, when he saw her eyes open. As Rory realized that she was lying on the ground, she immediately tried to get up. The big crowd had dispersed, but there were a few paparazzi still milling about and sharing laughs at her expense.

A couple of them started taking her pictures as they chuckled at her sorry state.

Don’t take my picture, she wanted to say, but her throat was parched. No voice came out of it. Fuck. Rory just wanted to sit down and cry. This was the lowest that she had fallen. Literally!

Taking a deep breath she got back up, straightened her clothes, ran a hand through her hair, and cleared her throat.

“Gotta give it to you lady, you almost made it through us. You must be a real big fan,” a paparazzo said to her.

“Isn’t she a bit too old to be a fan?” another chuckled.

“Looks like a first-timer in LA You know how these small-town folk can be like,” a third paparazzo said, and they all broke into laughter. Rory quickly started making her way to the cab. To hell with these guys. To hell with this city.

What made her feel worse was the fact that she hadn’t been able to rescue Lizzy. Hadn’t been able to keep the promise that she had made to her mother. How she was going to get to Lizzy, she had no idea. If she had thought that she felt defeated about her life in Montcove, then she was wrong because this was what defeat truly felt like.

She was powerless to stop the tears that slid down her face as she approached the car. She was just done with everything. Rory sat in the back seat of the car and hid her face in her hands.

She had to quickly compose herself because it was time to head to her parents’ house and as always, it wouldn’t be a cakewalk. There was no room for crying and feeling bad. She somehow had to find the strength and the composure to endure it.

As the sight of her childhood home came in her view, her heart started beating audibly. They were not expecting her. They’d probably be shocked that she’d arrived early, but at least they’d be relieved to know that she had arrived well in time for the wedding. Rory crossed her fingers and prayed that her parents were in a good mood. The last thing she could stand was another conflict.