Always You || Simon Minter (miniminter)

Chapter 4

After we finish dinner, everyone scatters to their rooms, doors slamming and laughter echoing down the halls as they get ready for the party. Simon, Jide, and I head out into the cool evening air toward his car. The scent of autumn leaves and petrol hits me as I approach, and the street is quiet except for the hum of distant traffic. Simon's car gleams under the streetlights — sleek, intimidating, and way too fancy for a quick Tesco run.

I shoot Jide a look, daring him.
"Shotgun!" I shout, claiming the passenger seat before he can even react.

Jide groans, throwing his arms in the air like a toddler mid-tantrum.
"That's not fair!"

Simon laughs, unlocking the doors. JJ climbs into the back with mock annoyance while I sink into the front seat, smugly victorious.

The music starts immediately as we pull out — bass-heavy techno that rattles the windows. Jide insists on swapping tracks every thirty seconds, mostly YouTube diss tracks, some of which are genuinely good. Simon rolls his eyes but hums along, tapping the steering wheel.

Tesco's fluorescent lights feel harsh after the warm glow of the house. We split up:
"Alcohol for me," Simon says. "Mixers for JJ. Snacks for Millie."
I head for the crisps and snack aisles, piling Doritos, Sensations, and the occasional can of Pringles into my arms. Parties run on carbs — simple logic.

When I arrive at the alcohol aisle, Simon is staring blankly at bottles, frozen like a deer in headlights.

"You okay?" I ask.

"I... don't know what to get. Are you drinking?"

I pause. Normally, I don't. But tonight? Tonight feels like a "why not" night.

"Just this once," I say, forcing a smile. "Yes."

His face lights up, almost like I just handed him a golden ticket. He picks up a bottle of Raspberry Smirnoff, offering it with pride. "Share this? Should be enough for both of us."

I nod, smiling. He adds a few more bottles for the others just as Jide arrives, struggling with twelve bottles of Coke and lemonade. We pay, pile everything in the car, and head home, the bass of techno vibrating under our feet as we park in the driveway.

Inside, Josh and Vikk immediately take over the kitchen — pouring, shaking, and mixing — leaving the rest of us free to get ready.

⸻

I retreat to my room. My suitcase is nearly empty, but I manage to pull together a black silk blouse, a white denim skirt, and black Converse. Quick makeup, hair semi-tamed, and I feel... okay.

A knock startles me. Simon stands in the doorway, dressed in a white shirt and black jeans. His eyes widen slightly as they meet mine.

"You look nice," he murmurs. "Everyone's downstairs. Ready?"

I nod and grab my phone. The music grows louder as we descend, techno bass shaking the floors. The house is crowded, warmer than it should be, filled with laughter, shouting, and bodies moving in clusters. Half of London seems to be here. I recognize Calfreezy and Callux, but most faces are new — a flood of energy that's exciting and overwhelming.

"Millie, come get a drink!" Vikk waves from the kitchen. I follow him, Simon close behind. He pours me a vodka lemonade that's basically a bucket with a dash of lemonade. I swallow nervously. This is going to hit hard.

⸻

Two hours pass. Maybe three. I've lost count. The room spins gently around me. Jide and Harry are dancing on the pool table, waving their arms like they've lost their minds. Everyone else moves around, laughing, shouting, slamming drinks, cheering on drunken antics. Someone has spray painted a weird slogan on a poster in the corner; I have no idea who did it, and I'm too drunk to care.