Are We Just Friends? / / Matty Healy / /

// ONE //

The room spun as I downed another shot. Once again I found myself alone at a bar to drink my pain away. Usually I would go out with friends to a party, but I wasn't in the mood to deal with people today. Recently my friends had become increasingly agitating with all the questions they've been asking. I know that they're just worried about me, but I wanted to be left alone. I spent all of my time alone these days, and most of that time I was drinking or getting high. I had tried covering it up, but I'm pretty sure they were beginning to notice.

Letting out a heavy sigh I signaled to the bartender.

"Sam, hit me with another shot."

Sam, who I grew to know seeing as I'm a regular here, gave me a disapproving look but poured me another drink anyway.

"Thanks, babe," I grinned before gulping down the liquid that burned my insides.

"I hope you weren't planning on driving home. Let me know when you're ready to leave and I'll call you a cab," he said looking at me with pity in his eyes. This is why I didn't want my friends to know what happened. I don't want pity. I had made the mistake of telling Sam one time when I was plastered and now he treated me differently.

"Or you could just take me home with you," I said leaning forward and batting my eyelashes at him. I saw his gaze drop down to where my shirt was hanging low. I could see the internal struggle he was having.

"Maybe tonight wouldn't be the best time for that," he finally sighed. Anger welled up inside of me. He had no problem sleeping with me before he found out about what had happened. Ever since I told him about what my boyfriend and his friends did he refused to touch me.

"I'm offering you sex and you're turning me down because you feel sorry for me?" I raised my voice at him. "You had no problem sleeping with me before you found out that Aaron and—"

I was cut off by a hand slamming down on the bar next to me. Startled, both Sam and I turned to look at the guy that was standing there. He was wearing tight leather pants and a white t-shirt, his curly hair covering most of his face.

"Excuse me," he spoke, a British accent lacing his words, "While I'm sure you're talking about important things, I've been trying to get your attention for a while. I need another round of shots for me and my mates." His words were slightly slurred, and he turned to point to a group of guys that were sat around one of the tables in the bar.

"Yeah, sure thing. What are you drinking?" Sam said pulling out four shot glasses.

"Whatever tequila you've got. And while you're at it, add another shot for the lady," he said gesturing to me. "And love," he said looking at me now, "if you're looking for sex, I know someone who would be interested."

I scoffed while looking him up and down. "If you're talking about yourself, I'm not interested," I said harshly.

"Ouch," he laughed. "But I wasn't talking about myself. One of my mates back there is in desperate need of a lay and it sounds like you are too."

Even though sex is what I had been looking for, I still found it insulting that this man would come up to me and ask me to sleep with his friend because it's obvious that I'm an easy lay. Even though deep down I was hurt by his words, I knew that it was all I was good for anyway so he wasn't wrong to ask me.

"You'll have to ask him," I said gesturing to Sam who had just placed the shots down in front of the curly-haired man, "it's up to him whether he's taking me home or not. Then I'll decide."

"Daniella," Sam sighed in exasperation. "Just let me call you a cab."

His rejection stung, so I quickly replaced that sting with a different kind as I downed the shot of tequila that was placed in front of me. "Disgusting," I shivered before facing the man. "Alright, let's go then." He grinned and grabbed the shots as we started to walk to where his friends were sat.