First Light

24 marlo's birthday p2

Faye:

It didn't take long for me to get drunk at all.

I like being drunk.

I've forgotten how much I like it.

I'm so social when I'm drunk. I like talking to people, people like talking to me. My anxiety seems to leave almost completely. I don't get scared about what people will think of me, because I'm not even really thinking myself. I don't really have a filter when it gets to this stage.

You would never guess I'm an introvert, not when I'm like this. I don't like meeting up with the friends I make at parties drunk when I'm sober, because they won't like me how I am normally. The only reason they like me in the first place is because they're meeting drunk-me.

It's also so much easier to eat when I'm drunk because the food tastes so much better and that kind of makes me forget about the calories.

But it's very easy to forget you're real and that this is real-life when you get to this stage of being drunk. It begins to feel like a dream, that there aren't really any consequences. I could probably do something so embarrassing and I wouldn't care at all.

There's a boy speaking to me right now but I genuinely have no clue what he said in the slightest. I'm not listening to him right now because it's taking all my energy to keep myself from standing upright properly.

He must repeat what he's said because he taps me on my shoulder, and then leans in slightly. "Are you listening to me, Faye?" He has to raise his voice over the music.

How does he know my name? I must've told him.

I squint my eyes at him. "What?"

He finds this funny, and laughs, moving closer. "How much have you had to drink?"

I shrug.

He laughs again. "I can get you another one if you want."

I probably shouldn't have any more.

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks though."

It's like he doesn't realise that I've realised he keeps moving closer to me. I move away slightly. This doesn't seem to matter to him.

"You're so hot, you know." He's looking at me in a way that makes my skin crawl. I'm really not liking this at all.

I don't answer him and look away to break eye-contact, my eyes scanning the mass of people in the kitchen to try and find a familiar face.

He continues speaking. "Would you want to come back to mine?"

"Nope." I'm hoping my bluntness will put him off me, but it seems to do the opposite.

"Ah, playing hard to get, I see. Just makes you even more attractive." He laughs.

What is so funny?

"That's so, so great." I answer in the most sarcastic way I can.

Someone literally kill me right now.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Here we go.

I turn back to him. "Why do you ask?"

He smirks, seeming to think that it looks in any way attractive at all. "Just curious."

"No, I don't."

"There's no way you don't. Someone as sexy as you wouldn't be single."

I shrug, trying not to cringe at his attempt at compliments. "Well, surprise, I am."