Paris waved and blew kisses at the paparazzi, as she and Nicky walked up the staircase of Mode, careful in her new Jimmy Choos not to trip and look like an idiot.
"So lame," Paris muttered to her sister, a fake smile still plastered on her face.
Nicky nodded her agreement as they reached the doorway into the VIP room. Both of them flashing the bouncer huge smiles, he let them in.
Paris let her eyes glide over the mass of bodies, dancing, drinking, and they narrowed at the sight of a certain person. Baby blues turned ice cold as Nicky left her side to go greet that person.
"Hey Nicole!" Nicky said, bending to air kiss her cheek and hug her.
"Hey Nicky," Nicole replied, hugging and air kissing back.
"Paris is here," Nicky said awkwardly.
Nicole gave her a smile. "It's ok. No scene will be caused."
"Cool, I should get back. Thanks," Nicky told her.
"Love you bitch," Nicole replied automatically, then turned back to Mischa.
"Oh my rival is here, is she?" Mischa's voice was heavy with sarcasm. "Seriously... I didn't have an issue with her until she said shit about me to Star."
Nicole laughed. "That's Paris, don't sweat it."
Paris eyed the pair from across the room, one hand on her hip.
"I don't get it. That bitch is so dull," Paris spat, referring to Mischa. "Even Nicole could do better with her friends. The OC is soo lame. The BLOW-C more like it."
She let out a giggle, and her sister joined in, just as Tara made her way over to the sisters.
"Hey bitches," Tara greeted, air kissing both of them. "Where are we headed after this?"
"Don't know," Paris replied absently, still watching Nicole and Mischa. "I just don't get it, you know? She's so lame!"
Tara looked at Nicky, hoping to get more information on whatever Paris was on about.
"Mischa Barton," Nicky replied.
"Oh, yeah, she is so lame. The OC is like, sooo over," Tara chirped. "I think Caroline is going to show up later."
Paris ignored this, and walked over to where Nicole and Mischa were sitting.
"Hey Nicole," Paris said. "Can we talk?"
Nicole looked at her for a long moment, then shrugged. "Sure, whatever."
"Nicole," Mischa said quietly, grabbing her friend's arm.
"Hey, stay out of this, k?" Paris said to her, raising an eyebrow.
"Whatever, I'm just making sure my friend doesn't get hurt while you play games to desperately try and get back on the front cover of a magazine," Mischa shot.
"What, like you? Mischa, SAD AND ALONE!" Paris sniped. "I just want to talk to Nicole about OUR show, is that ok with you, Mischa?"
Mischa let go of Nicole's arm. "Whatever."
Nicole shook her head slightly and stood up. "Come on," she said, rolling her eyes. "Let's just get this over with, ok?"
Paris smirked at Mischa, and linked arms with Nicole, leading her over to a table. They both sat down, across from each other, the silence awkward.
"So," Paris began. "How've you been?"
"Cut the crap, Paris, we've known each other too long to go through this false small talk," Nicole replied.
"Look, I know a lot of things were said between us." Paris licked her lips. "We said and did things that were..."
"Yeah," Nicole replied.
"I know I made it seem like it was your fault," Paris went on.
"Well, yeah. The 'Nicole knows what she did' comment kinda made me get that hint," Nicole said.
"Yeah," Paris replied awkwardly. "So... what are we gonna do about the show?"
"Nothing. Everyone knows, we can't exactly fake it like last season," Nicole shrugged.
"Can't we just..." Paris trailed off.
"Not yet. Friendship shouldn't be an effort, Paris," Nicole said, standing up. "See you on set."
Paris watched her old friend walk away, sighing. She stood and headed back over to Nicky and Tara.