The Woman With the Wedding Ring

Happy Birthday

Eighteen Years Later:

Caden:

"Oh, God, Caden," She moaned as her fingers dug into my shoulders and as I felt her tensing under me, I grinned breathlessly and kissed her neck before rolling away from her.

"You're welcome, babe." I yawned as I tried to remember what her name was.  "Happy birthday." I added as I pulled my boxers back up, glancing around for my jeans.  Mischa! I remembered abruptly.  This one's Mischa!

"You can't be serious?" Mischa pouted, crossing her legs as she sat up and stared at me.

"Yeah, I can.  And I am." I snorted, shaking my head at her stupidity as I pulled my jeans back on.

"But Caden," She whined, running her fingers down my arm.  In response, I wrenched my arm away from her and went across her room to get my shirt.  "Can't you just...stay?" She asked, her voice laced with hope.

"Mischa," I began as I tugged my shirt back over my head.  "You're good for a lot of things, but I have places to be." I told her firmly as I shoved my feet back into my shoes.

"So you're just going to leave?" She huffed, crossing her arms over her bare chest and momentarily distracting me from locating my jacket.  Christ, what a rack...

"Yes, Mischa.  I'm just going to leave." I yawned, dragging my fingers through my hair as I looked around her room lazily.  I couldn't even remember why I'd gone to her sixteenth, to be honest.  It wasn't like she was anything amazing; just another willing slag to pass the time with.

"You're such a prick, Reynolds!" Mischa shrieked as she threw an empty bottle at me, which I swiftly ducked and watched shatter against the peeling wallpaper of her room.  Christ, it was a dump.

"You enjoy it." I smirked at her as I pulled my jacket off the lamp and shrugged it back on, carelessly kicking her bra across the floor as I went back out into the party.  As I made my way through all the people who seemed to have arrived since the last time I'd been out there, I heard someone shouting after me.  When I realised it was Mischa shouting after me, I jogged out of the front door and down the street.

Just another pin in the cushion, I thought dryly as I ambled down the street.

Life was good if your name was Caden Reynolds, I thought smugly as I let myself into my own house.

"The party's here, lads!" I shouted as everyone swarmed and a can was thrust into my hand.

Happy birthday to me.

*****

I woke up the next morning to the sound of someone sneaking around my room and I opened my eyes groggily to see who was making all the noise when I was trying to recover from my night out.

Or in, it would seem, I noted as I stared at the girl who was going around my room and picking up her clothes.  She had every colour imaginable dyed into her hair; it was probably what made her catch my eye.  Either that or the hundreds of studs she seemed to be covered with.

I tilted my head, trying to work out if this girl had any dirty piercings before she turned around and quirked her - pierced - eyebrow at me.

"Yes?" She snapped as she slid her shorts back on.  Nice legs, I decided as I watched her bend down and swipe her bra from my floor.  "I don't do repeat performances if that's what you're wondering." She added as she shrugged the distractingly bright bra back on and did it up almost as quickly as I'd undone it.

"Don't you want to stay?" I asked, taken by surprise by the speed this girl seemed to be moving at to leave my fine home.

"No." She snorted.  "I got a place to sleep; you've served some use." She smirked as she pulled her thin shirt back on.  I looked at her, waiting to remember her name as she looked around for her shoes.  "Scarlett." She informed me flippantly as she realised what I was doing.  "And by the way," She added casually.  "You're really bad at sex." And with that, the multi-coloured mattress surfer vanished through my door with her shoes in hand.

Just another pin in the cushion, I thought as I shook my head and sunk back to sleep.

*****

Willow:

"Shots!" I heard someone scream as I curled up on my seat, almost jumping out of my skin.  "Come on, Willow Tree, it's your birthday!  Have a drink!" Pippa pleaded as she waved a shot glass in my face, managing to spill most of it down my shirt.

"I don't want one, Pippa!" I shouted over the base of the music; I'd never liked nightclubs in all honestly, but Pippa had forced me into celebrating being another year closer to wrinkles.

"Course you do!  You just don't know it!" She decided as she thrust the virtually empty shot glass at me.

"Fine." I grumbled, looking around the club.  It was probably sad that at seventeen, I would have preferred to be curled up in bed watching The Mummy than out at a nightclub with my hyperactive best friend, but it was the truth.  I hated going out; it meant I had to pretend I was interested in what was going on.  At least at home, I could just glaze over and no one would care!

"Look!  You've drunk it already!" Pippa exclaimed, pointing dramatically at the empty shot glass in my hand with her deadly looking fake nail.  I leaned back to avoid getting jabbed with the nail, running my finger along the rim of the glass.

"No, Pippa, you spilt it on me." I corrected, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.  She was a ditz; it was shocking how thick my friend could be sometimes.

"Then I'll get you another one!" Pippa squealed before disappearing through the club, remerging from the crowds with a freaked out looking waitress carrying a tray of shots.

"Happy birthday." The waitress muttered as she put the tray down and disappeared back down to the bar, her brightly dyed hair catching the strobe lights and almost blinding me.

"Happy birthday, Willow Bailey!" Pippa giggled, taking one of the glasses from the tray and knocking it back.  I stared at her for a few seconds before admitting defeat; sighing, I picked up a glass and knocked it back.

Happy bloody birthday...

*****

"I'm never letting you get me drunk again." I groaned, slinging my arm over my face.  I was never going to forgive Pippa for the hangover from hell that had settled over me like a shadow.  A shadow I planned on medicating away.

"You were barely drunk..." Pippa trailed off, sniffling as she turned over on the bed.  "I think I'm still tipsy." She added after a few seconds of thought.  "I'm going back to sleep." She mumbled before I was left to the sound of my ringing ears.  I heaved myself off the double bed that was pushed into the corner of my room and stumbled into the hall to go to the bathroom.

I was hoping that I'd feel more human if my teeth didn't feel as if they had wigs.

After what could have been hours of - what my mother would have called if she had seen it obsessive - teeth brushing, I went back into my room with minty breath, bloody gums and the feeling of humanity.  I sat back on my bed and closed my eyes, willing my hangover away.  I was never much of a drinker; if anything I was a lightweight.  Just another girl who couldn't hold her drink or handle her hangover.

I was never anything unique, I can tell you that.

Just another lightweight.

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Okay, this chapter was just so you could see what they were like...things start properly in the next chapter; promise!  Comment and votes are always appreciated; they motivate me to write as well :L but thanks for reading!  Hope you enjoyed it (:

Swinnie x