From Once To Always | ✓completed

eighteen

Macy's pov-

My door opened and in walked Bailey in all his glory. Well, if you can call glory a glare etched on his face and his fists clenched, kinda showing off his muscles. Wait, ew, no. What am I thinking?

"What the hell were you thinking," Bailey voices loudly, breaking me out of my pensive state.

"Ha, funny. I just asked myself that question," I say back to Bailey.

"You could've gotten more hurt than you already did and you practically ran away after."

"Wait, hold up. So you're not mad that I took your spot at the ring?"

"No, not at this moment. Either way, you earned it."

"Hell yeah, I did. You were a tough fight," giving myself props.

Ailey rolls his eyes. "Not the fucking point right now. The point is that you were doing something dangerous and reckless-."

"An activity that you partake in too, I cut him off with as it was now my turn to roll my eyes.

He glares at me before he continues with his little rant. "Not the point. You could've gotten seriously hurt."

"Yeah, sure. Do you know how long I've been doing this? I've been at it for almost 6 years now. I also don't know about you, but I think that it is quite unfair that you're lecturing me on something that you also do," I bark back.

"You, stay," he said as he made his way out the door and started to descend the stairs, completely ignoring everything that I had to say. He only did it because he knows that I'm right.

"Nobody puts Baby in a corner," I yell at him as he makes his way down the stairs. WOw, quoting movies has really gotten to me lately.

"Well last time I checked you weren't Jennifer Grey, so I have every right to put you in a corner," he argued back.

I wait for a few minutes before I already bored again. Instead of waiting for Bailey to come back up, I try to get up out of the bed. Keyword Try. I instead tumble out of the bed, hitting the floor harshly and I sigh, hoping I didn't make much sound. After a few minutes, I think the coast is clear.

I stand up off the floor and slowly walk to the window of the room. I open it up as quietly as I can and step out onto the small ledge. Thank goodness I have jumped out of these widows many times before, injured and not. I jump and land on a mattress that is lying next to the dumpster. It may be trashed and torn, but it gets the job done.

I was, of course, going out the back, not around the front, in fear that someone might catch me. More specifically Bailey. I mean It's not like I'm going to set something on fire, I just want a drink.

I make my way to the bar around the gang house. It's not hard to find since it's really kinda the only thing in the area.

I walk and push the door open to the bar and things freeze. A heavy silence settled over them, thicker than the uneasy tension in the atmosphere. Even though I owned this establishment, I felt painfully out of place. Kinda likes a pepperoni that had mistakenly made its way onto a vegetarian pizza. Unsettled eyes glanced unceremoniously around and tried to avoid catching other glances that passed by.

Some shifted uncomfortably in their seat and others grasped their sweaty, nervous hands under the tables, and even others shuffled their feet against the cobbles of the bar floor, awkwardly tracing the outlines of each brick while judging whispers swirled in the air around the small space where the only woman had just beaten every man ever known to chug down the most liquor in a single sitting.

I am proudly that woman. I don't really get drunk. I can drink for a while without throwing up or passing out, but I do have a limit. Except for tonight, I plan on going over my limit, Like Waaaaay over it.

Anyways, time for the fun to begin."Yo, get me a drink!"

-A few hours later-

My hands gripped the bottle in my hands, my eyes swiveling towards the back of my head in a distressing sense of a headache. I tilted my head towards the edge of the bar as I took a long swig of the dark substance that affected me. I sigh as the walls become part of a funhouse, changing the figure in a blink of an eye.

My breath was the underlying cause of the smell of alcohol that entered my nostrils, and my mouth was sore from the amount of alcohol that I poured down my throat. I clear my throat as I stand up, just to fall back down on the stool in an unbalanced attempt to walk out onto the streets and back to the gang house where I could feel the comfort of a bed to overtake the state of drunkenness.

The harsh scent of drink can be smelt of my person. I know it, and so does everyone else. They can see me struggling to keep my balance, and I know I'm struggling to keep it. It's like some sort of out-of-body experience. My legs don't work as I tell them. Neither do my hands. Or my fingers. Somewhere, deep inside I know my brain is sending signals telling me what to do. Whether or not my body is listening is a different story. I can feel it moving. It can feel it doing what it wants. Can I stop it? We all know the answer to that. It's doing as it pleases.

Once I finally get off the stool outside, I try to walk down the street, but my legs are telling me otherwise. They are swaying – left and right. No matter how many steps I take, I'm no closer to where I want to be. Then all goes dark. 

Word count- 1014