Ellens point of view :
The clubhouse is alive with music and chatter, the kind of vibrant energy that always puts Ellen at ease. She and Maud manage to snag a couple of stools at the bar, the neon lights casting a soft glow over their faces. The bartender approaches, and Maud leans forward with a smile.
"I'll have a gin and tonic," she says, her voice carrying confidently over the noise. "And she'll have a rum and coke."
Ellen smiles appreciatively, nodding in agreement. As the bartender gets to work on their drinks, Ellen takes the opportunity to glance around the room, her eyes sweeping over the crowd. This place is packed tonight, a sea of faces both familiar and new. But her attention quickly returns to Maud, who is twirling a strand of her ginger hair between her fingers, a thoughtful look on her face.
"So, what's new in Maud's chaotic love life?" Ellen asks with a teasing grin.
Maud groans, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Oh, Ellen, it's a complete mess. Ever since I came out as bisexual, it's like my love life has turned into a reality show. I thought dating guys was complicated, but girls... they're on a whole different level."
Ellen chuckles, taking her drink from the bartender and passing Maud's gin and tonic to her. "Cheers to that," she says, clinking her glass against Maud's. "But hey, at least girls are more beautiful, right?"
Maud laughs, taking a sip of her drink. "Absolutely. There's something about women that's just... mesmerizing. But they're also so much more emotionally intense. I never know where I stand half the time."
Ellen nods sympathetically, trying to push aside her own yearning for someone to ask about her life. "Yeah, emotions can be tricky. But you'll figure it out. You're amazing, and anyone would be lucky to have you."
Maud smiles, but her eyes are reflective. "Thanks, Ellen. Sometimes I just wish things were simpler. You know, like before I came out online. But the response from my fans has been incredible. They've been so supportive."
Ellen's face lights up with genuine pride for her friend. "That's awesome, Maud. You deserve all the love and support. You were so brave to come out like that."
Maud takes another sip of her drink, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looks at Ellen. "Do you think you'll ever come out online? Or to your family?"
Ellen's heart skips a beat. She forces a smile, trying to keep her tone light. "I don't know, Maud. It's... complicated. Let's talk about something else."
Maud seems to sense Ellen's discomfort and quickly shifts gears, her tone becoming more upbeat. "Alright, let's talk about something more fun. Like how many girls I've kissed since coming out."
Ellen laughs, grateful for the change in subject. "Oh, this should be good. Give me the details."
Maud launches into a story about her latest romantic escapades, and Ellen listens, nodding and laughing at the right moments. Despite her own struggles, she's genuinely happy for her friend. They've been through so much together, and their bond is unbreakable.
Ellen never makes things about herself. She's always there for Maud, always ready to listen and offer support. But sometimes, just sometimes, she wishes Maud would ask about her life, her dreams, her fears. Still, she wouldn't trade their friendship for anything.
Deep down, Ellen carries a weight that she doesn't share with anyone. Her family is homophobic, their views deeply ingrained and vocalized often. Ellen hasn't come out to them as a lesbian, too scared of the potential fallout. The fear gnaws at her, a constant presence in the back of her mind.
Ellen finds solace in her art. She works at an art school, teaching and creating. Her drawings are breathtaking, each one a piece of her soul on paper. She's gained a bit of fame thanks to Maud, who always features her in music videos and posts about her on Instagram. But the recognition is bittersweet, a reminder of the parts of her life she keeps hidden.
As they finish their drinks, Maud's eyes light up with mischief. "Come on, let's hit the dance floor. I need to forget about my love life for a while."
Ellen laughs and follows Maud to the dance floor. The music is pounding, the bass reverberating through their bodies. The dance floor is a swirling mass of people, moving together in rhythm. Ellen lets herself get lost in the music, her worries slipping away with each beat.
Maud is dancing with wild abandon, her red hair flying as she spins and twirls. Ellen mirrors her moves, their laughter mixing with the music. For a while, everything else fades away—the chaos of Maud's love life, Ellen's own hidden fears. Here, on the dance floor, they are just two best friends, dancing away the night, lost in the moment.
The clubhouse is still buzzing with music and chatter, the energy high as people dance and mingle. Ellen is in her element, moving through the crowd with ease, laughing and chatting with everyone she meets.
As she's heading to the bar for another drink, Ellen notices a girl stumbling through the crowd. The girl is blonde, strikingly beautiful even in her drunken state, but she looks pale and unsteady. Ellen's concern kicks in immediately, and she decides to follow the girl, who is heading towards the bathroom.
Julie barely makes it into the bathroom before she collapses in front of the toilet, retching violently. Ellen rushes in after her, quickly pulling Julie's hair back and holding it gently to keep it out of her face.
"It's okay, I've got you," Ellen says softly, her voice soothing as she rubs Julie's back. Julie is too drunk to respond properly, her words coming out in a garbled mess.
Julie mumbles something incoherent, her eyes closing tightly as she continues to be sick. Ellen stays with her, whispering comforting words and holding her hair back. Eventually, Julie's vomiting subsides, and she slumps against the wall, her breathing heavy and her face pale.
Ellen grabs some paper towels, wets them with cool water, and kneels beside Julie, gently wiping her face and neck. "You'll feel better soon," she assures her, offering her a small, reassuring smile.
Julie manages to open her eyes and look at Ellen, a flicker of gratitude in her dazed expression. "Thanks," she slurs, struggling to form the word. She's clearly in no condition to say much more, but Ellen nods understandingly.
"Don't worry about it," Ellen replies. "I'm Ellen, by the way."
