Barcelona

As I am going to start my course first thing in the morning, I have a celebratory pizza dinner with my classmates and my new friend. Once I do go to bed, I call my parents to say that everything is fine and that it is beautiful here, and then I pass out.

I wake up with Valentina's alarm clock, where, right away, she is there to give me a good morning smile. I like her. I like people who smile for nothing. It takes me a while to get my bearings; I was so tired after dinner with the girls that I blacked out and slept soundly.

We drink coffee, juice, crackers and scrambled eggs and soon the four of us leave together.

The way to the university is short. I prefer we walk there so I could learn where I am located since I couldn't do that the night before. We stroll for about fifteen minutes and as soon as we arrive, I am dumbfounded. The university’s structure is more beautiful than what appeared in the photos. The architecture here is stunning, everything modern. Ah, I would live in this accessible city, but I like my own city. I push the thoughts away right after that.

Valentina shows us the room where Joanna, Katrina, and I will be taking the course. We meet Professor Martin Rupert, who has worked for years on local TV and says that everyone in his class is classified for the job market. I like him, and he looks nice. But his way of passing on a lot of work is not so "nice" anymore.

At lunch, we meet Valentina and go to a cheap restaurant nearby. We discuss our day so far, but our conversation mainly revolves around sports, especially football. Do these people have anything better to talk about? I silently growl, thinking to myself.

"Going to have a party tonight. Are you up for it?" Valentina asks while we eat, with that curly accent. Luckily, I can understand.

"What kind of party?" Katrina asks with interest.

“White Party, in a well-known high-end club, that even famous people attend all the time. I can get tickets for us; I have a friend who works there.” She smiles cockily to show off her contacts.

My two peers seem very excited about the invitation. I cringe at the very thought, squeezing the glass of juice in my hand. I do not like going to crowded places where people can feel every inch of you and check you out sleazily in the name of socialising or whatever. Although I did like well spaced-out parties.

“Selena, we’ll go together, right?” Joanna asks me.

“Oh, I don't know girls, we arrived yesterday and are already going to a party? Plus, today is Wednesday,” I say without interest.

I like parties and dancing. I love dancing, but I didn't come to Barcelona to hang out. I know they will object, as they are doing now.

“Tomorrow is a municipal holiday. There will be no classes,” Valentina said.

Well, if there is no class...

“Wow, do we already have a holiday?” I start to laugh. Since it's like that, I think it's going to be super cool.

We get all excited about attending such a rave party tonight.

As we make our way home after lunch, many people are crowding the street and shouting about football. I think they take football more serious here. I ask Valentina and she tells me that Barcelona will be playing Real Madrid on Saturday, so everyone is going crazy because of the biggest derby in Spain.

It is almost time to leave for the party. I had already straightened my hair and done my makeup earlier. As the dress code for the party is white, I choose a white tank top since it is scorching here and a high-waisted, short, gold, embroidered skirt and nude high heels. We drive with Valentina and park in a private parking spot because of that friend of hers. When I get out of the car, I come across a black Lamborghini. I have always liked cars. Even more sporty ones!

It is common to see expensive and sporty cars in my city. A pity that they belong to petty people most of the time. I know this because of my parents' many clients. I can't say they were all cocky, but most were. It looks like they had acquired all of their wealth by doing illegal or immoral things.

Seeing my expression, Valentina makes fun of my face.

“Looks like someone likes expensive cars,” she says, laughing.

“These run on petrol right, Selena?” Joanna says, laughing even more.

“No, I just have good taste,” I say, ignoring them, but laughing too as it is quite funny.

We enter the white party. Everything is beautiful, the lights, the people, the floor, the glasses...The electronic music fills every corner, with people dancing, drinking, enjoying the music. The ambience of the place is amazing and the DJ creates a perfect mood. I marvel as I observe every corner of the luxurious place, full of soft lights forever keeping the place well-lit but still private and warm.

We sit at a table with cosy armchairs, and soon a waitress comes by. I can’t understand anything she says; I just follow what the girls ask. After a short while, the waitress returns with a huge tray filled with tequila shots.

Oh no. I don’t know what I am gonna do. I hate hard liquor due to their after effects!

She starts saying something. Shit! I need to start understanding what they're talking about!

We drink our round of alcohol. By the time we start dancing, I’m still grimacing at the liquid burning my throat. The rhythmic and beat-filled music is in perfect taste.

But as always, there is a luxury box on the top floor. It seems to be very private. Private for women because from what I see when I peer up, there is of a woman who looks like a bitch up there. She scares me.

I dance some more and then we stagger back to our table and slump into our chairs. I am a little sweaty, and I hate getting sweaty. At the table, my friends say that there is a famous person at the party. I can barely understand a word of what they are gossiping about!

“It's that player from your country who has now become a star here on the Barcelona team,” Valentina says, gesturing for us to say his name.

“Hunter Blanco?” asks Katrina. “Is he here!? Oh my God! He is beautiful, he is to die for, he is the most gorgeous player on the face of the earth, happens to be a billionaire as well plus his bad boy reputation turns me on” she squeals, her eyes shining.

Wow, why so much enthusiasm, I think to myself, rolling my eyes, already feeling a little dizzy.

“I need some water, I'll be right back,” I mutter to anyone who bothers to listen. I part to get my water, leaving the three crazy women to rave about the chicken-ass player.

As I am making my way through the crowd, I can hear other girls swooning and sighing, “I would love to be his girlfriend, also he is so rich!” My eyebrows reach the ceiling with surprise and disgust! Just because he's rich? Okay, as if that’s impressive. Well, for some opportunists, yes.

I order my water in my worst American Spanish possible. When the girl hands me my glass of water, I turn around, where someone bumps me and spills all the liquid onto my white blouse.

“Holy shit! Are you blind?” I say, annoyed, lambasting the chap in front of me. “Oh shit, look what you did, I'm all soaked with this purple drink!” I grumble, even more irritated, pointing to the mess that was on me. This expensive blouse is brand new...

“I'm sorry, it was not my intention, Senorita.” He speaks the softest voice possible.

“Wait…How do you know I’m…?”

When I lift my head, I can’t speak or think anymore. Bright blue eyes glare at me with all the amusement possible.