𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕃𝕖𝕗𝕥 𝕋𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕤

Nine

Trigger warning: being drugged/drinks being spiked

Bailey perched on a stool at the bar, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the condensation-slick surface of her glass. Across from her, Avery and her boyfriend danced in a whirl of laughter and tangled limbs, their joy infectious yet tinged with a hint of wistfulness.

As Bailey took a sip of her Jack and Coke, she couldn't help but reflect on the lessons ingrained in her by her parents, echoing in her mind like a mantra:

Guard Your Drink: Her gaze flickered to the amber liquid in her glass, a silent vow to never let it out of her sight. If she dared to look away, she'd order a fresh one.

Stick Together: Avery's exuberant laughter drifted across the room, a reminder of the importance of companionship. She clung to the unspoken pact between them, a promise to always have each other's backs, even in the most mundane of situations.

Trust Your Instincts: A pang of unease pricked at the edges of her consciousness, a subtle warning to heed her intuition. If anything felt off, if even the slightest whisper of discomfort brushed against her, she would not hesitate to extricate herself from the situation.

As the night wore on and the music throbbed in her ears, Bailey clung to these principles like a lifeline, anchoring her in a sea of swirling emotions and fleeting moments. With each passing hour, she remained vigilant, steadfast in her commitment to safeguarding her well-being, even as the world around her spun in a dizzying blur of lights and laughter.

~~~

As Bailey rummaged through her purse, the sound of her phone's notification pierced through the din of the crowded bar. Frustration knitted her brows together as she fumbled to locate the device, her attention momentarily diverted.

In that fleeting moment of distraction, a shadow loomed over her, unseen hands deftly slipping something into her drink. Oblivious to the danger lurking inches away, Bailey finally retrieved her phone, the notification about the upcoming race blurring before her eyes as she tossed it back into her purse.

Before she could even take another sip, a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts, sending a jolt of surprise through her veins. Chase's sudden appearance beside her sent a ripple of unease skittering down her spine, a nagging suspicion clawing at the edges of her consciousness.

"Having fun?" His question sounded innocent enough, but Bailey couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension gnawing at her gut.

"Yeah, a blast," she replied with forced nonchalance, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

As they engaged in idle conversation, Bailey's sense of unease intensified, a sickly sensation coiling in the pit of her stomach. The room began to blur around her, the clamor of voices merging into an indistinguishable cacophony. She swayed on her stool, the world tilting dangerously askew.

"Bails, are you okay?" Chase's voice cut through the haze, his concern palpable as he observed her pale complexion and faltering demeanor.

Bailey nodded weakly, her throat constricting with every labored breath. "I'm...I'm just going to...run to the bathroom," she managed to choke out, pushing herself unsteadily to her feet before stumbling away, her pulse pounding in her ears like a drumbeat of dread.

Chase's heart pounded in his chest as he watched Bailey falter, her once steady steps now faltering and unsteady. Panic surged through him as he saw her wobble on her feet, her eyes glazing over with an unsettling vacantness.

With lightning reflexes, he lunged forward, reaching out to steady her, but it was too late. Before he could catch her, she crumpled like a marionette with severed strings, her head connecting with the unforgiving edge of the counter with a sickening thud.