Who, me?

September 7th

I am sat in Brooke's small apartment of a bedroom waiting for her to pick a god damn outfit, we have been doing this for 20 minutes and she finally decides on a tight spandex style white dress. Brooke could pull of a pair of chartreuse trousers if she really wanted to but her white dress is just simple and angelic – the polar opposite of Brooke. I have been sat here wondering if I'm too underdressed, I cannot stand dresses or anything stereotypically girly but there's no way that I could borrow something of Brooke. She has been a size 4 for as long as I can remember really and I am at least a 12, 10 on a good day. Although I have never really been self conscious about my weight or my size, I have never needed to be. I remember one doctor in hospital tried to coerce me into thinking that I had a 'subconscious' eating disorder, which not to mention isn't possible, but even then I still loved me and my body. I was different and he liked that, and now I do. I have a pair of straight leg jeans and a white t shirt, I have never been one to dress up especially not for these stupid gatherings yet I find myself pacing past Brooke's mirror.

"Look hun I love you, like 98% of things about you, but you are not going to a party in a t shirt." Brooke begins to rustle through her myriad of drawers to find me a collection of her sexy bodysuits that she reserves for sex, even though she is yet to have it, but she always has them for 'just in case.' Purposes. She finds a dove grey lacey bodysuit that oddly enough fits me pretty well. I have no clue who I'm trying to impress, or why for that matter. But I feel sexy and I am going to have an amazing time tonight – as a single girl.

We arrive at Mack's house, it isn't as big as Brooke's or Oscar's but it is beautiful. His parents own a chain of art galleries so their house is a range of complimentary colours and stunning glasswork. Their style is old school and I love it, the double oak wood doors are already propped open making this 'gathering' look far larger than what I had anticipated but I oddly enough don't feel anxious about the idea of being around so many people. Who knows, I might end up meeting someone worthwhile. But I sure as hell need to remember ... stay away from Oscar. After the stunt he pulled a few days ago and the pure ignorance of him, I need to say away from him. I have come too far.

***

Brooke and I walk in with a few others that had joined us on the way up here, we head straight to the kitchen where the music is lingering. The familiar smell of cheap vodka and cranberry juice fill my nose as we head forward. I have only gotten drunk once in my life and it was the stupidest thing I had ever done. It was also the second time I had attempted to take my own life and everyone here tonight saw. I had got myself into a bad way anyway, one of Oscar's flings was there causing me to be agitated and I had never really experimented with alcohol so what better time – so I thought anyway. Well 6 vodka and lemonades later I was raiding Josh's medicine cabinet but by the time Oscar found me it was about 5 tablets too late. I was limp on the floor, my eyes were glossy. I could see but I couldn't hear much. Before I knew it my eyes were spasming from the intense strobes or Blue lights and everything after that I have forced myself to forget. I couldn't even tell you what pills they were, but my hell hole seems to inhibit these voices sometimes, voices that scare me and guilt trip me and that's exactly what happened. So from that day forward alcohol has been a no go for me.

All of the boys look so weird, instead of wearing their polo tops, designer belts and gelled hair they are now all wearing skinny jeans, t shirts and chains – I feel like I am in my male utopia. Even Oscar looks different, not as drastic but he looks more relaxed, at ease almost. He looks as beautiful as ever. I have never referred to Oscar as 'fit' or 'hot' because he is so much more than that. His deep brown hair has this way of falling so perfectly in waves on his forehead and he doesn't even do anything to get them that way. Everything about him is different, it is infatuating how singular he is. He lifts his slim face to meet his eyes with mine, his captivating eyes that aren't exactly brown but they aren't completely green either. His eyes are full of guilt, just like the other day. How could I be so stupid, here's me thinking he would look at me how he once used to with his speckled eyes fluttering while he looked me up and down in awe. His eyes that were dotted with emerald beams reserved for me now are just mossy debris of the memories that have been forgotten by him. But now he looks at me with guilt and lifelessness, every time his eyes catch mine, my heart breaks a little inside.