luck for the night - rl.

46. 'dress' by taylor swift

On one of those nights when winter almost gave way to spring, the muddy moments when darkness almost melted into light, four girls made their way to a bar.

We'd decided on walking, mostly because I had not tasted fresh air in too long. The only times I had been outside lately were short moments on the balcony for pity cigarettes, but let's be honest, that was not real fresh air no matter how badly I wanted it to be.

"I still don't know how to feel about this," I said honestly. Mel was walking next to me, her eyes warm, worry still sparking in them.

"Sorry if it is too much," She grabbed my hand, squeezing it ever so slightly. "Phoebe told me how much you guys used to like this, grab a drink together after work."

I nodded slowly. We hadn't done that in weeks, not ever since that one day I left in a hurry to London to help Mel at her work event... A sigh left my lips. "Yet another thing my feelings for that wretched man ruined."

"So it's about him, then?"

"Uh," I looked down at my shoes, suddenly painfully aware of the fact that the three of them had found me in shambles, picked me up, and put me together, all without knowing what had actually happened.

Phoebe still did not know anything about me and Remington. Shit. Fuck. I had to tell them. "I wanna tell you, but..." My heart started beating at the thought of telling Mel, telling all of them. Because of course, I could not tell them what I had done to Remington without telling them about my luck thing. But I was so sick and tired of hiding the real truth, the way I had from Remington, the way I had done from Phoebe. The way I had done to everyone else, all my fucking life. "I..." I was quiet, eyes on the floor. "I don't think I can tell you," I muttered at last.

We continued walking to the bar, but in a strained, uncomfortable silence, now.

***

Hours seemed to pass as minutes that night, alcohol spreading a comforting buzz throughout my whole body. Elia, the bartender Phoebe and I had befriended over the years, welcomed us with open arms, and I suspected her of filling my shots just a tad fuller than the rest of the groups'.

Of course, Phoebe had told her that I was getting over a boy upon our arrival, and of course, Elia had promised to be on the lookout for a rebound for me. But was that even what I wanted, right now?

I looked around the place, not too packed on a Tuesday night, but packed enough that a lot of people reminded me of a lot of people. It was a thing that happened when I was drunk. Usually, I didn't mind, but today, I hated it.

Today it meant that I saw Remington in each and every person in this bar. A girl who was wearing her make-up the same way he always did. A tall man was frighteningly similar from the back, even wearing a blazer I could've sworn I'd seen Remington in once. Someone else had the same plump, soft lips, and I longed to go up to this stranger and kiss them, long and hard, just to pretend it was the man I had fallen for in the last few months. Of course, when I looked a second time, they bore no resemblance at at.

And then, in the middle of the crowd of Remington lookalikes, I saw her. Long, red hair, flowing down her back, short dress, round eyes. She was dancing in a way I had only seen one other person dance before in my whole life. Lexi, the girl I had hopelessly admired from a distance back in high school. My heart stopped for a split second, the irony not escaping me. This stranger looked exactly like her. Or was it her? It couldn't be, right? But before I could take another look, the music stopped, and she was caught just as off guard as I was, looking around in confusion.

"You know that we usually don't take requests," silence filled the pub as Elia stepped up to a table, holding a little piece of paper and a microphone. Phoebe grabbed my hands, appearing on the dancefloor beside me. What the hell is going on?