five; memories

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Greenwich Village, New York
October 14, 1929

––

"i know you're gonna
keep on haunting me."

––

Riley thrashed around, trying to detangle herself from some else's limbs. For a fleeting second, she was scared she had let the past repeat itself. Her chest heaved up and down rapidly as she shakily pushed herself away from the sleeping body next to her. She rested on her elbows before she recognized the body fast asleep on the covers above her.

Her eyes darted around the room, trying to decipher the darkness that seemed to swallow her being whole. Riley's hands shook as she lifted the covers off of her. She could see Farkle's fingers grasp the sheets for Riley's body, but, of course, he came of no avail. Still slightly panicking, Riley touched her body, making sure her dress was still there. Check. She ran her cold, clammy fingers over her sweat-covered face and neck. She stood still for a second, watching Farkle move slightly in his sleep.

Riley wished the years hadn't damaged her memory so bad.

She maneuvered around his desk and do the door. With her hands still shaking, she twisted the knob and allowed herself out. Quietly, Riley walked into the kitchen. She sat down on the floor, leaning against the cabinet. The hardwood floor was cold against her legs, but she didn't care. She rested her head in her hands, sucking in her breath.

She could still remember watching the hotel room door open lightly, letting light bleed in. It made Riley's head pound worse. Soon, she saw a silhouette of a curvy figure, hair obviously falling down the figure's back, causing her eyes to strain themselves.

"Riles?" Her best friend quietly croaked.

Riley sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes.

"Peaches? Where have you been? I had left hours ago," Riley asked, her voice still having been thick with sleep.

Riley could still hear Maya's breath sharply inhale. Riley scrambled out of their shared bed, forcing her arms under her best friend's armpits. Maya fell into her arms. Riley managed to prop her up by their bed. She was crouched next to Maya on the floor. In the silvery blue moonlight Riley could see her best friend's tear stained face.

"Peaches, what happened?"

"He—,"

Riley's head snapped up out of her nostalgia when she heard something shift. Riley stood, finally steady on her feet. She reached out to the table, making sure of her steadiness and balance. Slowly, she looked over the edge of the couch.

Maya was entangled with Lucas. Her head rested on his shoulder. It looked like someone had fused their bodies together. Riley smiled at the content, safe look on her best friend's peaceful expression. Maybe tonight Maya wouldn't be plagued with nightmares of her past.

If only Riley had been that lucky.

She walked back over the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She bent down, eyeing its contents. For the second time in her life she needed a drink. Almost animal-like, she dug around until she found one. With just a flick of her wrist, the top was off. Riley ignored the stretch of alcohol. Without hesitation, Riley let the drink burn her throat. It took everything within her not to make a sound.

She still remembered the first time she had taken a drink.

Riley was sore all over. Everything hurt. It was almost four a.m., but she and Maya both had been up much, much longer than that. It had been a painstaking thirty-six hours.

They had arrived at Hollywood, just as they wanted, and against Maya's warning, Riley had ventured outside. What Maya didn't know was that Riley needed space and air from everything that had happened. Little did she know that it was the first change of many. She still remembered how the wind was cold against her sweaty skin.

That wasn't how Riley pictured her nineteenth birthday.

She certainly didn't picture it away from everyone she loved, except for Maya. She didn't picture it in Hollywood. Or anywhere that wasn't New York, really. She didn't picture it being painful to walk.

Riley remembered stumbling into an all-night bar. She could feel all the hungry gazes of the drunken men, feeling extra vulnerable in her weakened state.

"Bourbon," she blurted out, making the bartender stare at her.

Wordlessly, the man poured her bourbon. When he sat it down, she snatched it off of the wooden bar. Even though her mouth craved the plain taste of water, she threw the bourbon down her throat, searing pain following in its wake. She remembered groaning after she swallowed it. Oddly enough, she was satisfied.

She looked to the man sitting next to her that was eyeing her hungrily. She knew what he wanted. Riley was in no mood for the thing that put her in months worth of pain.

"Fuck off," Riley slurred, before leaving the bar.

Riley slammed the bottle back into the refrigerator. Riley snapped her head towards Zay, who moved in his sleep when the sound took place. Thankfully, it didn't wake him. Riley whipped her mouth with her arm, her head slightly clouded. The thoughts of her dream soon began to leave her mind. Her ears seemed to ring from the nonexistent screaming she was so accustomed to. It seemed like she was almost at peace.

Riley seemed to stumble back into Farkle's room, not thinking straight as she laid back down next to him on her stomach. Without a second thought, she nuzzled herself into his side and pecked him on the nose. She could almost count the freckles there. Riley shut her eyes, mind still clouded.

Riley could still hear the last bit of conversation she had had with Farkle ringing in her ears as she drifted off again.

"What are you, Matthews?"

"I'm a wanderer, Farkle."
***
author's note: this feels so short and weird sorrz
feedback?

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