Marked by Obsession

5.

The night was just getting started, but I already felt like I was losing a game I didn't even know I was playing.
No matter how much I tried to shake it off, it felt like I was losing a part of the chase— like someone as stupid as Andrew was a step ahead of me, and that bothered me more than I'd care to admit.

I stared at the bright pink liquid in my cup. I knew I shouldn't have been drinking that much, not even at all, actually.
I kept repeating to myself that I should slow down, remember I have an early lecture tomorrow— an important one.
But each time Andrew smiled or casually chatted with the girls around, my grip on the cup tightened.
I could only think of him and my girl.
Marcy is my girl. Maybe she doesn't know it yet, but she is.
Before I knew it, I was rising my hand to order another of those fluorescent, colourful drinks.

Bogdan and Erika were caught up in their own world, laughing and dancing under the flashing lights of the crowded place we found ourselves in.
Chester was off talking to some girl in a witch costume, he didn't even acknowledge us.
Meanwhile, I was trying— and failing— to drown out the gnawing feeling inside of me.
Knocking back another shot of whatever glowing drink the bartender gave me, the burn slid down my throat, followed by a rush of warmth.
The frustration, the jealousy, the thoughts of Andrew hanging out with Marcy when I wasn't even through her acquaintances— all of it swirled together, blurry at the edges as the alcohol kicked in.
The music pulsed through the room, and for a moment, I thought I heard her laugh— Marcy's laugh. It was a rare event to hear it, but my head snapped in the direction of the sound.
It was just some girl in yet another vampire costume giggling with her friends. I shook my head, feeling stupid. I knew it wasn't her, but still, the sound tugged at something deep inside of me.

I downed another drink, saw Chester in the same spot as before, and began walking towards him.
I moved, my steps became heavier, less coordinated. Everything around me blurred, but maybe it was just tiredness.
It was late— the lights, the people, the music blending into a dull hum. I tried to keep going, my legs felt like jelly.
I stumbled, barely catching myself before I'd hit the ground. Out of nowhere, some girl wrapped an arm around me and helped me steady a little.
"Whoa there, handsome. Looks like you've had a bit too much fun tonight." She was stunning.

My arm went around her shoulders, to actually make sure I wouldn't fall.
I blinked at her, trying to focus.
She was dressed in a shimmering black cat costume, her dark eyeliner sharp and dramatic.
I couldn't understand what she really looked like, the flashing lights making it hard to see what colour her hair was, or her eyes, but she was tall and terribly hot.

As the lights flickered across her face, something shifted. I knew it couldn't be true, but for a second she looked just like Marcy.
She was just the right height too.
My heart lurched in my chest, the alcohol filled my senses, warping my perception, but I couldn't stop it.
Every blonde girl I passed, became her.
Every laugh in the distance sounded like hers.
"Hey, you still with me?" The cat girl tightened her grip around my waist, leaning closer.
My eyes flickered to her lips, unintentionally.
"You look like you could use some help."
The tone was playful, she seemed amused by the state I was in.

My head was spinning, I knew it wasn't Marcy.
I knew it, but how I wished it really was.
Something in me— a twisted combination of desperation and alcohol, made me lean into that girl.
We were close, her hand trailing down my back, her touch warm and inviting.
She was smiling at me, and I was reacting as if the one looking at me that way, was the only girl I could think of.

Marcy, Marceline, the love of my life.
The way her head tilts slightly when she is in deep thought, the way her cheeks blush at every minor inconvenience, the way everything about her seems so fragile, and yet she hides such brightness and a strength of spirit... my head was a mess.
"You remind me of someone..." I barely muttered, staring at that girl like I could only see her.
She laughed, a high, flirty sound that sent chills down my spine. Her fingers brushed my chin, tilting my face towards hers.
I couldn't believe I was so easy to handle.
"Someone special, I hope." She was teasing, a smirk drew on her lips.

The still conscious side of me was screaming at me to pull away, to stop, but my body was against it. The weight of my jealousy, my self hatred for expecting Marcy to fall for me when I could just try to talk to her like any other person would...
I was confused.
So confused that all the words echoing in my mind came crashing down, and I leaned in, pressing my lips to that girl's.
It was clumsy, not a good start, but she didn't seem to mind.
She held me tighter, and I cupped her face with my hands, deepening the kiss as a way of letting out all those emotions that threatened to spill for the longest time.

We stood in the middle of the crowded room, oblivious to the chaos surrounding us.
I was expecting to feel a certain way, but even as we let ourselves go, I couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness. Because no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise, it wasn't Marcy.
It wasn't her voice, her laugh, her touch.

We broke the kiss, looking at each other.
Her eyes bright and mischievous, flashing the most beautiful smile.
My head was spinning, not sure if it was the weight of what just happened, or the alcohol playing tricks on me, but nothing could fill the hollowness in my chest.
I let out a shaky breath, trying to ground myself.
I felt lost, caught between reality and a drunken vision of someone I could never have.