The Loud Crowd

15. What Makes You Think You're The One?

Picture to the side is what Lyra's hair now looks like. Since she dyed it and all.

*This is probably going to be the last chapter before the cross-over with Beneaththelandslide, so I suggest you all read Promise Me The Sky very soon. Or don't. I won't force you, but I highly recommend it. Because it's awesome.*

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The first thing I was aware of was the pounding in my head. Like a spectacularly angry drum solo ricocheting around my brain, I was lulled back into consciousness with each aching throb. Then came the watery February British sunshine, filtering lightly across my face, reminding me of winter holidays with my parents. As I opened my eyes, I realised that I was not in the fancy hotel Aware had booked for our London stay. 

I sat up slowly, taking in every inch of the room around me. It was a small and cramped bed room with dirt embedded deep into the carpet, and some questionable art work framed on the walls, which all seemed to depict a man and woman... getting intimate. Glancing down and noticiing that I was wound tightly around the covers on the bed, I cringed, feeling my muscles tense uncomfortably. I had no idea where I was. 

The night before came back slowly, like rain drops in April. An image here, a sentence heard there. Until I eventually pieced together everything I'd done, said, heard. Ray. That was his name, I recalled suddenly. That was the guy that I had spoken to, kissed in the bathroom. And now... I was in a bed. 

Feeling panic rise in my throat liike vomit, I jumped out of the bed as though it were contaminated. Which it could have been, for all I knew. 

What the hell had possesed me to go home with a stranger? I refused the think the 'What if' that was niggling at the back of my mind. Refused to believe that I would do something so stupid. Attempted to trust that Ray was at least somewhat a gentleman. That he wouldn't take advantage of me whilst drunk. Then I remembered that he had been pretty out of it too, and so there was no way of being sure that his morals would have remained all night. I felt actual vomit rise, in my uncertainty and sheer fear.

Patting my pockets, I realised that my phone was gone. I had no way of letting the guys know where I was or what might have happened.

The fact that I was still wearing my Nirvana vest and long black skirt did little to soothe me. I had no clue where my Docs were, my feet were bare.

Carefully stepping over to the door, I pressed my ear against the splintered wood and listened for any sounds of talking. Nothing. 

Wincing as it creaked, I opened the door slowly, not wanting to disturb Ray or whoever else was in the house. With a sickening swoop, I realised that I didn't know for certain that this was Ray's house. At the state I had been in... I could have left the bar with anyone. 

I edged through the door, feeling panic and terror choke me. I emerged into a hallway and darted towards the stairs. The rough, threadbare carpet irritated my bare feet as I rushed down and crept towards the front door. 

The small mirror at the bottom of the dirty stairway revealed just how dishevelled I looked - my hair stuck out at odd angles, make-up was smudged all over my face and there were tear tracks etched down my cheeks. I took in a deep breath, regretting it the minute I choked on the truly awful stench of the house, and prayed that the door was unlocked as I silently pushed the handle down.

It didn't move, and I swallowed loudly. There was no way I was going to find anyone to let me out - I had no idea who lived here, where I was... I would much rather make my hasty exit and attempt to find the hotel.

Feeling vaguely Sherlock-Holmes-like as I realised that keys would most likely be in a coat pocket, I rooted through every pocket of every coat hung up on a rack that seemed close to collapsing the other side of the hallway. Fisting my hands in my hair when I came up with nothing, I had to hold back a scream of frustration.