Second Best: A Chenford Story

Part 2 - The Bar

Nyla and Lucy walked into the bar, chatting about one of Nyla's cases, ignoring the most obvious elephant in the room. The buzz of music, laughter and chatter grew louder as they approached the door and flung it open, walking inside. The gentle pink glow of the neon bar lights made Nyla feel happy; she hadn't been somewhere like that in so long, and was grateful to feel like something other than a detective or a mother, for a night. They selected a small table close to the bar, and Lucy went up to order their drinks. She got Nyla's whiskey coke, as requested, and a double tequila soda, no ice, for herself. She also quietly requested a straight tequila shot, which she covertly downed at the bar before heading back to the table. She wanted to numb the knotting feeling inside her stomach, the sadness that was enveloping her. Nyla, of course, watched her do that, and watched her with her dark eyebrows raised, as she came back to the table.

"What?" Lucy questioned.

"What was that? You must be feeling something, to want to do a straight tequila shot when you're stone cold sober." Nyla remarked.

"Oh it's nothing, I just want to have fun tonight, that's all." Lucy responded, clearly lying, with a grin plastered across her face.

"Alright then," Nyla replied, taking a swig of her drink, knowing the truth would soon come out after Lucy had a few more drinks in her. The night continued and the girls chatted away, getting noticeably more tipsy by the minute, and Lucy wanted to get up and dance. There was a large dance floor in this bar, where lots of people had already congregated, so Nyla thought what the hell, and agreed. They made their way over to the dance floor, where Shania Twain was blasting through the speakers. Lucy squealed in delight; she loved Shania Twain. After a few minutes of singing and twirling around the dance floor, she started getting attention from some men. A group of them made their way over, introducing themselves and asking if the girls needed a drink. Nyla declined on both their behalves, but still being relatively polite about it. They pushed further, one placing a hand on Lucy's waist and leaning down awfully close to her face to try and talk to her. He asked her name, which she told him was Lucy, his was Chad. She backed up once she registered the hand on her waist. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be rude but I'm just not interested, I have a boyfrie-" she trailed off at the end of her sentence, suddenly looking defeated, staring at the floor. She finished, very quietly with "well, I thought I did, but who knows anymore." Nyla watched on, giving the men the nod to go away. She steered them back to their table away from the dance floor, and placed her hand on Lucy's shoulder, asking:

"Are you okay? I know it must be hard, with Isobel back. Has he said anything about it?"

Lucy checked her phone, which had been locked ever since they got there, expecting there to be a text from Tim, considering they had barely spoken all afternoon, and it was now coming up for 10:30pm. Nothing. She spun her phone round for Nyla to see, replied "nope!" and promptly strode up to the bar. Nyla's eyes widened, this was not going to end well. Lucy proceeded to down three tequila shots in a row, throwing all three of them back one after the other, barely flinching at the acid burning her throat. This girl was in pain.

"Maybe you should text him?" Nyla suggested, thinking it would be best for her to start the conversation before she got absolutely wasted. 

"No, I'm not going to do that. He's probably with Isobel anyway, and I wouldn't want to be the bad guy and interrupt that." Lucy responded, a sad smile on her pink, glittery lips. Nyla nodded, knowing not to push it. As the night went on, Lucy got drunker and drunker until she was slurring her words impossibly, making it a tough feat to understand what she was even trying to say. That was when the word vomit started.

"I just can't compete, you know? She's got years of history with him that I don't have, I have a few months and that's it! A-and he didn't even leave her, still called her his wife when she was a junkie, shooting up in random crack dens, he still wanted her to come back, and if she had done, he would've taken her back there and then, and me and him never would've got together. It was her decision to leave him, so what's to say he doesn't still want her? She made the choice, not him. He basically ignored me all day, spoke to me like I was a boot again but was all smiles and lovely with her, you saw what he did this afternoon, he literally made fun of me to her and the two of them laughed at my expense, just out in the open! A-and you should see the way he looks at her, I can't read it, I-its like longing, or love, I don't even know, but suddenly I just feel like everything is being pulled from under me and I feel like nothing I do is gonna measure up to what they have, and if she decides she wants him back, he'll take her, and I just have to deal with that! I-it's like, knowing your date of death and just waiting for it to happen." Lucy trailed off, staring at the floor, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Hey," Nyla began, "this is nothing like that, okay? I'm sure there's nothing more between them than two people who used to have a lot of love for each other, but are in different places now. I really don't think Tim would do that to you, and if he does, I promise I will make his life hell. But, for the record, I don't think he will, and I think you're worrying and reading too much into this. It's natural to feel threatened, but you need to hold your nerve. Everything is going to be fine." She tried to reassure Lucy, but it didn't seem to land. Nyla looked nervously at Lucy's face, trying to read her response.

"You know what," Lucy slurred, loudly, "I think I will text Tim. If he doesn't want to talk to me, or care, that's fine, but he needs to know what he's doing." Nyla's eyes widened in horror.

"Okay, Lucy, please don't do that. You are wasted, and you will wake up tomorrow morning absolutely horrified if you text him right now, you'll go on a huge long rant and you'll be mortified about it tomorrow. It's really not a good idea. Why don't you write what you want to say to him, in your notes app, so you can get it all out, and then in the morning if you still want to send it to him, you can. But I really think you shouldn't tonight. Okay? Let's go back to my house, you can crash in the spare room, save Tamara from your drunken state waking her up." 

"Fine," Lucy responded, rolling her eyes slightly, frustrated. 

Nyla called a cab, and they got in, Lucy barely able to stumble out of the bar and into the car on her own two feet, then proceeded to fall asleep on the drive back to Nyla's. She gently woke Lucy up once they arrived, and helped her into the house. She sat her down on the couch, got her a glass of water and 2 aspirin, instructed her to take them and drink the water, which she did, then showed her to the spare room. Nyla made sure to take Lucy's phone and leave it in the kitchen, so she didn't get any crazy ideas and text Tim while she was still just about conscious. Just as she was getting into bed herself, her phone pinged. It was from Tim.

"Hey, is Lucy still with you? I went to her apartment thinking she'd be back from the bar by now, she never stays out past midnight, but she isn't here."

"Yeah she's crashing in my spare room tonight, I didn't think it was safe for her to go back to the apartment by herself, she is absolutely wasted. I think someone might've found her passed out in the elevator tomorrow morning if she tried."

"Ffs Harper, why did you let her get that drunk, you were supposed to be looking out for her! I'm coming to get her."

"Don't start Tim, I didn't know she was going to start taking straight tequila shots from the bar one after another, and no you are not. I promise you, that is a very bad idea. She is fine, and you will see her at work tomorrow. Talk to her then."

~

Tim stared at his phone, at Harper's reply, confused. What did she mean "very bad idea"? And why was Lucy doing shots of straight tequila? She knew she had work in the morning, and was never somebody who showed up to work hungover. Unless something else was going on? Tim knew he was in the wrong for not texting her all night, but he didn't really know what to say. Honestly, he was a little pissed that she had gone out with Harper and not told him her plans; they always updated each other on stuff like that. But, he had a gnawing feeling in his stomach that something else was going on here. Was it Isobel? No, it couldn't be. They were just friends, and Lucy knew that. He even brought her over to Lucy's apartment, for God's sake. If something was going on, he wouldn't have done that. There was no way she was jealous, Lucy wasn't the jealous type. Right? If anything, Tim was more jealous over her when she got hit on by random creeps out in public. He tensed his jaw and narrowed his eyes, as he thought about all the guys that probably hit on her tonight, especially as she got so drunk. No, she definitely wasn't jealous about Isobel, she just got out of hand tonight, Tim told himself. He quickly left Lucy's apartment, closing the door quietly behind him so he wouldn't wake Tamara.