Love and Ambition

1 - The Bathroom

My mind swells as the obnoxious EDM music bounce off the local bar like a trampoline. The mix of alcohol and an hour on the dance-floor only intensifying my need to take a quiet break.

The floor sways beneath my feet as I stand up from the booth, catching myself from the head-rush.

My best friend takes me back by the hand, cutting off her conversation with a guy she just met. "Where do you think you're going?!" Jennifer yells through the loud music.

"The bathroom," I pat her head as she gives me a pout. My lips raise to a cheeky smile, knowing that my company was replaced by her new, cute boy-toy. His name now left my mind. Not that it matters—she goes through boys like eating a bag of pick & mix. Some she likes, some she doesn't, some are her favorites.

By the way she's giggling in his ear, growing slowly to a louder laugh, this one will be her favorite.

Even though I'm still skeptical about him, I rest easy with the fact that the girls who invited us out, crowd the table; not as drunk as Jenn. I pray, hoping they understand the girl-code. 

With one last look at my best friend, I make my way towards the bathroom. The help of the neon lights to guide my way, but still walking with two left feet. 

Tonight will not be a drunk night, I told myself but the buzzing of my phone only grew my anticipation and annoyance. And how to distract yourself from a nuisance? More alcohol.

As I take a swig of my Smirnoff Ice—baby alcohol, as I call it—the familiar taste of lemon brings the same memory in my head. A memory with cracks of grief, yet bound together with love. I spent years forgiving that mistake, because it's a mistake often made when you're young, dumb, and in love.

Upon opening the door, I stop in my tracks to see a guy leaning by a stall with beer in hand. 

He swings his head from looking at an open stall to my direction, panic in his eyes. 

Confused, I take a step back, checking that it's the ladies bathroom. As the female sign cleared my doubt, I look at him.

"I swear," he holds his hands up, "I'm not being a creep."

Motioning to the stall he was looking after, I approach and see a passed out girl with her head in the toilet. 

"Just looking after her," he says, an innocent smile now appearing in his face.

I laugh lightly. "Okay, whatever," I place my drink on the counter of the sink and walk past him into a stall. As I lean against the wall, I take soft breaths to calm the swaying of the floor beneath my feet; rocking me to a drowsy sleep.

Tonight may be a drunk night.

Sean's face fog my mind as if I'm not supposed to be. The feeling sinking into my bones that if I take more drinks than I should, I'd be punished for it.

But he's not here, I remind myself. He's a two-hour-drive from here.

With a deep breath, I head out to wash my hands, checking myself in the mirror before heading out. 

"Don't forget your drink," the guy's voice drags me back. 

I turn around to pick it up, giving him a soft smile. Even though there's no rule against it, I still feel a shame when picking up Smirnoff Ice.

"I swear I'm only drinking this for the nostalgia," I let my brown curls fall from the back of my shoulders, hoping to cover the red that's prominent in my cheeks.

He chuckles. "Trust me, I'm not drinking this for the taste," he raises the can before taking a drink.  As he gulped it down, he scrunches his nose and shake his head as if he just took a shot. 

I laugh at his disgust. 

"Brooke," I lean against the counter, setting my drink down. 

"Jason," he gives a soft smile, brushing a hand through his long chocolate-brown hair. Disheveled. Some curls and some wavy. I take notice of his beard—more of a goatee with the sides just starting to grow. 

He wore a gray sweater underneath a large, black jacket; thick enough to keep warm from the winter cold. Though not fashionably aesthetic, there's something about him not fitting in that just fits in. He wore clothes to be comfortable than fashionable. 

The door bursts open, followed by drunken giggles and a stumbling Jennifer. "She's in here," we make eye contact and her eyes brighten. "There she is!"

When my eyes meet the towering figure behind her, my breath heaves out a sigh. 

My loving boyfriend, Sean. A scowl now growing on his face as he sees me.

Jenn begins to lose balance and I immediately hold onto her before she hits head-first onto the trash can. When propped up, she sways to find her balance.

"He's hot," she mouths, giving me a thumbs up before stumbling out of the bathroom. 

"I was worried about you," Sean says, walking in. "You hadn't answered my texts the past two hours." 

Jason snickers. 

Sean turns his head to his direction, shooting him a look; his scowl growing deeper. "What the fuck are you doing here?" He looks back at me, his teeth stuck together like glue. His blue eyes glowing red. 

"Are you here with him?!" He points at Jason. 

I roll my eyes. "Jesus, do you not trust me that much?" I grab him by the wrist, dragging him out of the bathroom even with his built form weighing me down. We stand outside between the male and female bathrooms. The music more prominent than inside, but not as obnoxious as outside; with a door creating a sound-barrier.

"What have I told you time and time again?" I look him in the eyes.

"I don't know, Brooke, you've told me a lot of things," he crosses his arms.

Christ.

"God, you're hopeless," I pull him aside as a woman tried to pass through to the bathroom. Her voice muffled, but I could tell the confusion in her voice as she saw Jason.

"Just go home," I tell Sean, hoping that he would realize the stupidity that he's done.  

The door opens again, Jason walks out with the girl he was looking after. He has a tight grip on her waist, zig-zagging to keep balance for the both of them. 

"Go home?! I drove all the way here to check on you!" As if he was standing on his toes, I feel my gut turn at his familiar anger. His towering figure creating a shadow above me, making me feel small.

But I keep my upper-hand and stand my ground. My composure remaining confident as I stare at him straight in the eyes.

"Oh my fucking God, Sean!" I pinch the bridge of my nose, wishing that the effect of the alcohol still stayed. The same thought runs through my mind, yet unable to escape my lips just because... 

...I was afraid. But whatever alcohol left in my system created a whole new Brooke, finally blurting out the words: "I want to break up!"