Posh Kids (Gen. 4)

Nash

The lights were bright, fucking bright, but the room was still dark. The bass was heavy, practically shaking the whole. Madeleine clung to me, holding my shoulders tightly, while her head rolled backward. I didn't feel so well right now, as I wanted to throw up.

"We've all got faults, you know?" she said, leaning her head on my shoulder. Her breath reeked of alcohol, and her skin looked pale, as if she were dying. I had gotten used to Madeleine going deep while she was drunk, high, or both.

"I know. We can't be perfect, because that isn't realistic," I whispered into her ear. She perked her head up, so that we were eye to eye, and for some reason, the strange feeling in my stomach only deepened.

"We all have something in common, Nash. We're the most fucked up people to walk this place. We all have our faults and our vices."

"What's yours, Mads?"

"Promiscuity. Can't keep my skirt on. What do you think yours is?" asked Madeleine, licking her lips seductively.

"I don't have any emotion. Can't feel anything," I said, as Madeleine gripped onto me tighter.

"Can you feel this? What if we were to separate?"

"We were never attached."

"Don't be a smartass. You know what I mean. What if we were to go our own ways? What if we moved on?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I don't know. If it were you, I'd never forget you. You helped me feel something," I said, staring into her eyes. After a second, my head began to feel dizzy, as her gaze remained focused.

"I'm sorry for this, but you were an exception in some way. But, this is it. We're through," said Madeleine, shifting her eyes from mine. Suddenly, the sensation in my stomach raged on, stronger than before. Despite my attempts to swallow it, I retched, and the mess ended up on Madeleine. Surprisingly, she didn't look angry.

"You got me a crappy going away present, Nash. Know that," she said, simply ignoring the mess on her shirt.