WRONG NUMBER

1. One call away

The rhythm of the music was pounding in Ivy's head and the bright neon lights twirling around the darkened club made her dizzy. Everywhere she looked, men and women were dancing together, covered in sweat, and bodies were pressed together on the crowded floor. She couldn't tell who was dancing with whom.

The waiter with platinum bleached hair walked back toward her from the other side of the bar. Ivy guzzled down the final drop of vodka.

"Can I get you another?" The waiter asked in a throaty, seductive voice.

"Yep, one Black Russian pleases," Ivy giggled drunkenly, her voice mumbled and barely understandable it sounded slurred but the waiter nodded his head anyway.

"Thanks" Ivy grinned. She doesn't get drunk on a regular basis, but today was kind of different, a twinge of guilt hit her as she thought about how depressed she is over her breakup. Well, she was in a relationship with a boy for three years, and he broke up with her over the Christmas break and now she was in this jerry-built pub, crying over her break up, on the Christmas Eve day.

The waiter arrived, with a glass full of Black Russian, and handed it to her. She was about to pay him, he shook his head, "No, they are on me," the waiter smirked.

"Thank you soooo much," Ivy slurred again. She drank her glass in one gulp, hoping it would numb her feelings. She walked towards the dance floor and let herself go. For a short time, she blocked out everything except the rhythm of the music and the feel of her own body.

A middle-aged man with neat graying hair winked at Ivy and pulled her close to him. "Dance with me baby," he whispered into her ear, his warm breath made her tremble.

"Sure," Ivy tried to laugh when the man put his arms around her and they started dancing. She wasn't very comfortable with how close he tried to get, but she tried to ignore it and enjoy the moment.

Then the music changed and the volume increased a few decibels and that hit her head very hard, she felt like spinning and vomit out everything of her gut. "Get off," Ivy said to the graying hair man with a little push.

"Don't be like that love," He chided her.

"We are just dancing," the man stroked her face and tried to kiss her. She winced as she struggled to break free from his grip. He gripped her harder.

"Let me go. I don't like it," Ivy pushed him hard; her voice became rougher with the anger that was boiling over. He felt fury, but he didn't dare follow her.

Ivy looked around for Rosalie, whom she came to the pub with but she couldn't even focus her vision. Instead, everything in the club blurred, and then the flashing red and purple strobe lights began to spin in a sickening blur of color.

Her stomach churned again, and the urge to vomit was overwhelming. She freed herself, shoved and pushed with desperate energy, thrust her way out of the crowd, finally found her way to the restroom. Her throat burned and the vomit came out of her mouth as she got to the bathroom.

After all the vomiting, Ivy felt better than she had before. But it was horrible being hungry, truly hungry and at that point of time, she wondered where she could find some food. She closed her eyes and then twisted her wild hair into a messy bun on the top of her head and sat down on the cool tile floor, pressing her back against one of the washroom vanity. It was good there the hardwood door was reducing the noise level in her surroundings. She tried to open her eyes, but the room was spinning, and she clenched her eyes tight shut to try and make it stop.

Ivy put her arms on her waist and lodged into the back pocket of her tight jeans, pulling out her phone. When she looked down at the phone the sudden flash of light thumped her head very badly and her vision got more blurred, she could see the stars. She blinked several times to try clearing her vision before giving up and shut her eyes tightly again for some moment before reopening it. Her fingers tremble so badly on the phone screen that it took her lots of effort to press the calling app. she pressed the contact list and scrolled down and then again up, but could locate Rosalie's number on the list with her blurred vision.

While trying to find Rosalie's number, by mistake Ivy pressed something and her contract list went blank. The horror of what she was witnessing hit her like a flash flood and she was white, deathly pale. Her face engraved with horror. There was a look of sheer terror on her face.

"Oh! No no no!" Ivy whispered frantically. Burning with panic, she tried undoing it, she tapped on every possible option but nothing changed. She had a sick feeling rising in her stomach again and she felt a tinge of anger for herself but mostly on Rosalie, as Ivy thought that Rosalie must be enjoying with boys.

"Calm down," Ivy told herself as she thought she has to do it, She cannot afford to lose up hope so quickly because, without hope, she knew she would bite the dust in hunger. She just needed to go back home as quickly as possible and feed herself something solid and real food.

Ivy was determined not to let a little thing like that stop her, certainly, she should remember her best friend's number anywhere and anytime, especially while starving on the floor of a bathroom.

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