Crashing. (A JSE×reader fanfic)

Drunken Thoughts

 August 18th- 19th, 11:00 p.m.-1:30 a.m.

  Glancing over yourself in the mirror causes you to grimace. You examined the low cut tee and short skirt with disdain, but lack the energy to change. Bell had told you to dress for a club, but you hate how showy this outfit is. You know Jack would too.

  You cant help but picture him running his eyes up and down your figure, smiling at what he sees before it falls away upon realising that others might as well.

'Change.' You hear his voice demand past a stern smile. You smile to yourself, loving to push his buttons in times like that.

'You'd have to take them off of me yourself.' You reply to the imaginary Jack in your head. He gladly obliges just as he would in real life, wrapping his hands around your hips to unzip the skirt down the side and push it down your legs, letting it fall to your ankles before tugging the shirt off over your head. The Jack you're picturing gives you a familiar evil smile before kissing you and patting your ass, asking once again for you to change. You huff in your fantasy, knowing damn well he'd do something just like that in real life, teasing you slightly before pulling away. He steps away, playfully tossing a new set of clothing at you that you catch with a smile, excited that he'd be pulling them off of you later tonight.

  A smile tugs the corners of your lips, but falls away when you open your eyes and find you still standing in front of the mirror, still wearing the skirt and tee...

  Your heart sinks upon finding the fantasy to be just that, a fantasy. You'd give your left hand if he'd walk through that door right now, the whole world for him to accept your apology, and anything, anything for him to kiss you and tell you he loves you.

  Tears fog your vision but you quickly blink them away, forcing yourself to take a steadying breath. You will not cry tonight. Tonight you will get drunk, get numb, and have fun. You sigh to yourself, making your way to the bathroom, opening up a rarely used drawer in the counter, examining the contents.

  You pull out your small selection of makeup and begin applying it freely, hoping that it covers any sign of emotion as well as it covers the darkness under your eyes. When you finally finish, you quickly dispose of the makeup back into the drawer before sending a text to Mark, asking if he's ready as well.

  Luckily you'd convinced him to come along as well during your dinner of Tacos. At first he was reluctant to go out, but after explaining that you and Bell would need a driver, he finally agreed, wanting to ensure your saftey. You mostly wanted him there because of the creeps that often lurk around clubs. Two women alone in a bar are hardly safe these days.

  Mark replies with a quick yes, and you rush to grab your wallet, eager to leave your apartment as quickly as possible. You step outside and catch sight of Mark leaning patiently against the driver side door of his car, twirling his keys. His eyes land on you and grow wide in shock.

"Whoa..." He manages akwardly. He never sees you wearing makeup or doing your hair, or dressed like this, so you see why he reacts as he does.

"I know, I know. I just dont want to be myself tonight." You say, forcing a smile at him. He nods understandingly, despite his furrowed brows.

"Alright," you say, clapping your hands together. "Lets go have fun." You say, making your way to the passenger door, forcing a chipper tone that you didnt feel.

  The radio plays quietly in the car, distubing the itching silence as the two of you stop by Bell's to pick her up. She climbs into the car, wearing a blue dress that makes her ebony skin radiate.

"Woooo you even got Machiato man in! Good to see you! I like the hair!" She rambles as she buckles herself in. Mark looks up into the rearview mirror at her, shooting her a polite smile.