Will We Talk?

28- Tormented

So far, the night was going quite well. Everyone seemed to be getting along as though we had all knew each other for forever. The atmosphere of the Low Lights was gradually building too, which was different compared to when I used to come here. I knew the boys came here religiously, so I had to get into the cycle of coming back, no matter how many good or bad memories whizzed around my pre-tormented mind.

"Everything alright?" Sam whispered, his arm raising to rest on the back of my chair.

I felt like he also sensed something would happen, just like I did, as he also seemed to be on edge.

"All good, aye." I mumbled, placing my head on his shoulder.

The cold sensation of his jacket against my ear soothed me a little, I wasn't quite aware of how warm and flustered I began to get in the small pub.

"Good, I'm getting the next round, you coming?" he offered, voice still low.

"If you want is to." I complied, following him towards the bar, linked arm in arm.

He ordered the drinks for the whole table, remembering which drinks everyone was having- that's how many times we'd been back and forth to the bar. I think, by now, we were all slightly drunk and too out of it to understand what was happening around us. That's what helped me put on a faux facade to cover my true fear of something getting fucked up tonight.

Everything was going too well for a night out in Shields, something was bound to go wrong sooner or later. It always did happen.

Then I noticed what was happening: I heard the shrill bickering between Rylee and Fran. The two never argue, not like how they sounded to be arguing anyways. I excused myself from Sam for a second while I went over to our table.

My heart sunk to my stomach as I saw all the lads stood from the booth as Fran and Rylee sat at the table, having a screaming match at one another. Poor Fran was sobbing, mascara pouring down her face and Rylee had her head in her hands.

Something was up- Fran never cries and Rylee never feels sorry for herself.

"What the fuck is happening?" I whispered to Joe, tears beginning to form in my eyes at the sight before me.

"I divnt kna, pet. Fran came back from the toilet absolutely fumin' and now its all kicked off." he explained.

"Oi! Pack it the fuck in." I screamed, silencing what felt like the whole pub, "Sorry everyone." I announced, before the pub goers all went back to its hubbub, "Tonight was meant to be a lush night, yet here yous are. If yous want to fight, do it elsewhere, and divnt come back until its sorted. So, yous staying or do I have to call a taxi?"

I never raised my voice, I felt so embarrassed by them- as though they were my parents arguing in front of my friends. But instead, it was friends arguing in front of friends. Whatever this shit was, I wanted it sorted and quick, but that didn't seem to be happening any time soon. The two are such a mint couple, it'd be a shame if it ends like this.

After I said this, Rylee looked at me with glossy eyes. Fran said nothing, just stared at me- her emotion was indecipherable.

"Call me a taxi, please." Fran murmured, before turning to Rylee, "You coming?" she asked.