Over the next day, I receive torrents of texts and phone calls from Richard and some from Alyssia, all of which I ignored. Instead, I threw myself into recalling as much information as I could from my brief time at Arkham.
There was a giddy excitement about me when I realize that I start training with Batman tomorrow. All I ever wanted was to fight crime and everyone refused to help me, except Batman.
Ugly, who had recently started taking a liking to me, is curled up next to me on my bed as I sketch away on my notepad. I had completed my homework, to the bare minimum and had sent a hasty email to my gymnastics coach, telling him that I quit the team.
Slowly, I was unburdening myself of everything and it felt good. I just want to focus on what makes me happy. But the problem lies in that I don't know exactly what makes me happy. I know that thrill seeking relieves me from the ever-impending guilt, but is that happiness?
I push those thoughts from my mind, today is Friday and I have been invited to some party by someone that I had never heard of. All I know is that he goes to Gotham High and he is a year above me. I have every intention of getting wasted tonight, totally black out drunk. This was something that I used to do all the time with my awful ex-boyfriend (Before Dick), since I met Richard I never went down that path again. This is the reason that I know he will not be at the party tonight and another plus is that pretty boy detective will not be there either.
The party starts in a few hours so I decide to start getting ready now. I start by taking a scalding hot shower and removing all hair from the eyebrows down. After my post-shower routine, I leave my hair to dry naturally and begin on my make up. I go for a dark smoky eye and a deep matte red lipstick. A pair of false lashes and a dab of highlighter later, I start straightening my hair. I decide on a middle parting and smooth my hair so it falls down my back. I choose a lace bralette, long enough to cover the bruise on my ribcage and black high waisted black jeans. I finish my look by wearing a black pair of high tops, a gold choker and gold waterfall earrings.
I make my way down stairs to the kitchen, my Dad said that he would be working through most of the night but I hastily scribble a note and leave it on the dining room table, just in case. He's going to be so pissed if he finds out. He told me that I needed to stay at home, whenever possible, for my own safety.
Before I leave I make sure to grab a bottle of something, thankfully there is a bottle of whiskey that someone had given my Dad. I grab my leather jacket and purse and head out to my rented car. I put the address into my phone and use it as a form of GPS to direct me to the party. I don't even care about the police car that begins to trail me.
Twenty five minutes later I park my car down the street from the house, the police car is parked a ways down, pretending not to be noticed. I'm surprised my Dad hasn't busted the party due to the amount of noise being generated from the house. I feel like I should be nervous as I'm going to the party stag but I'm not, all I want to do is drink away my sorrows.
Before I even make it up the steps I decide on ripping the top of the whiskey bottle to my lips and gulp down a few mouthfuls before I descend into the mosh pit.
*
An hour in and I can't feel my face.
The bottle of whiskey had not lasted long so I decided to attack a bottle of vodka, my old habits seem to kick in as I start dancing with a girl I had never even seen before. If I was not so drunk she would have been a little too close for comfort, but unlucky for me, I've had a glass too many and had no idea what she was about to do before it was too late.
She tugged on my hand, leading me outside, my head spins uncomfortably as I step out into the cool air. It took less than two seconds before she pounced on me. With her face. She tasted like some kind of liquor which I found rather unpleasant, I can't even imagine what I must taste like but whatever it was she seemed to like it.
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