𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞 | steve harrington

007| fear, humiliation, pretence

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WHEN BRIAR WOKE UP SHE SWORE that someone was repeatedly stamping on her head. She opened her eyes very slowly and was grateful for the way her large tapestry shielded the bright light of november first. It cast an orange glow over her room and let her head adjust to the sudden beginnings.

There was a glass of water beside her bed, filled up again, fresh. Briar smiled at her brothers efforts to help her hangover as she sipped it slowly. She started to realise there was a lot that people never mentioned about being hungover. Sickness and headaches were the main discussion but Briar also felt disgusting. Her insides felt wrong, her eyes were bleary and the inside of her mouth didn't feel right. Everything was off. Her skin was dry, her lips cracked and her hair messed around her head like some attempt at a mane.

Everything she did had to be slow otherwise she'd feel a twinge of pain in her head as though someone was slowly pushing a knife through her skull and into her brain. She showered for twenty minutes until any memory of her tight catsuit and the vomit that had welled inside of her was gone. She brushed her teeth until her gums hurt and then she dressed in a maxi skirt that had once belonged to clover and a large T-shirt which displayed a poster from ABBA's 1979 concert in Stockholm, Sweden which she evidently had not actually attended.

Briar tied her hair into a bun and stared at her dead looking face. Her skin was always pale but now it looked ghostly. She rubbed lip balm on her lips until they looked dewy and pink instead of a horror scene. Despite her drunken state, her memory was perfectly fine. In fact, it was so clear that she felt she'd watched a rundown of everything that had happened the previous night on VHS.

This to her was the worst part. She'd be perfect happy pretending that Halloween had never happened but instead she was forced to think about it as she slunk downstairs in search for some food.

First was the way she'd acted. Dancing around as though she was one of those popular cheerleaders instead of the weird girl who everyone laughed at. Second the ridiculous display of snogging Billy like a horny junior. It was humiliating and she guessed at least half the party had seen it which meant everyone had heard about it. Third was of course her throwing up in the sink which made everything all the more nightmarish.

Yet despite the fact she'd well and truly made a fool of herself, vomited in front of everyone and practically rode Billy right then and there in the middle of Tommy Hagan's living room, Briar could still only think of Steve.

She remembered their argument, the harsh tone he'd used to openly insult her, the way she'd hit him. Briar deeply regretted that now even though she felt he'd deserved it. Worse than anything was the pain in his eyes when she'd told him he was a bad friend. Yet despite everything she remembered the way he'd held her hair away from her face, rubbed her back and comforted her. He'd taken her home, made her bed, got her water. He'd apologised, so sincerely that it hurt to think about. Briar didn't know what to do about him anymore, Steve was a constant stain on her life and although Briar constantly tried to wash him away, she knew she could never cut him out.

Oliver was trying to cook when Briar walked into the kitchen, this never usually went very well for him. Eddie was sat on the sofa as though in his own home, feet on the coffee table as he sifted through some money he'd undoubtedly received from selling drugs.

"Good morning Bri" Eddie sat up with a humorous smile on his face, "and how are you feeling today?"

"Don't" Briar shook her head, "please, I feel bad enough as it is"