SWAN SONG ▻ LANCE TUCKER

17 | REAL LIFE

17 | REAL LIFE

   THE PARTY HAD ONLY BEGUN an hour ago, and Louise was already downing her 4th shot of the night. The alcohol had yet to begin to take effect on her, which she found utterly annoying. She had never felt more bored at a party, and she didn't know the cause, because the party itself was well into play — music was bursting loudly from all directions, making the floor vibrate. Bodies dancing together in close proximity, practically grinding, and then there was Louise, who was standing off to the side, doing nothing but drinking herself silly.

  She sighed and gazed off into the corner of the room, where Jess, — who was meant to be the one getting her into the party vibe, — was off making out with a pretty girl against the wall. Louise looked away as the kiss began to take a different turn. Usually at parties, Louise would be the one dancing on the dance floor, the one who was pissed within 5 minutes, the one who was making out with whoever against a wall. But this time, it was different. And she had no idea why. Despite how glamorous she felt in her outfit, she didn't feel so glamorous inside. She looked party ready, but she didn't feel in the party mood at all. She didn't want to make out with anyone, or dance, or scream, or shout, she just wanted to get drunk. And even that wasn't taking effect quickly.

   With yet another sigh, she turned to the bartender and ordered another 3 shots. Once they were placed in front of her, she said nothing but down them.

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    AFTER MORE DRINKS THAN she cared to remember, it finally began to take effect. Her words were slurring ever so slightly and vision was blurry, but not so much so that she couldn't see where she walked.

   The man sitting next to her said what was meant to be a joke, and Louise pretended to laugh. She threw her head back and guffawed, which had seemed to satisfy the guy because he sat back and grinned, and continued to talk to her.

   More drinks were bought and passed around, and Louise threw down every single one, wanting  nothing but to be shit faced. And that's what happened.

   She was now completely and utterly drunk, stumbling on her feet and could barely stand without the support of the wall. She was slurring all her words, barely making any sense. Louise had decided that maybe, she should go back to her hotel. There was nothing for her to do here, she had no interest in hooking up with anyone or dancing, and she certainly didn't want to fake smile to yet another guy.

   With one hand against the wall, she somehow managed to locate her way towards the front of the club, wanting to do nothing but go home. Before she left, she patted herself down to make sure she had everything she came in with. Her red wig must've fallen off somewhere, and she was in no right state to go and locate it. Her green dress had ridden up, and she gingerly pulled it down past her thighs. Once she was sure she had everything in tact, she stumbled her way down a hallway which led to the door.

    Her feet wobbled in her heels, and the amount of times she had almost tripped and fell flat on her face was way too many to count. She wished someone would help her, call her a cab or support her out of the club, but everyone here were enemies, competitors, and Jess was also nowhere to be found.

  Tears rose up and began to fall down her cheeks, the alcohol heightening her emotions, making her cry in what was mostly frustration. "I'm bloody useless." She mumbled to herself.

   Louise spent a few minutes leaning against the wall, letting the tears flow. She heard a male laugh from down the hall, a giggle from another direction. She felt the vibration of the walls against her palms, caused from the music. Her head began to pound, and she suddenly regretted the fact that she wanted to get so drunk.