One

Chapter One

She walked into the bar, the red hair whipping around her shoulders in the biting wind. Seeing her brunette friend at the bar, she headed straight for her, taking the drink she held out in one hand.
"Thanks babes." She sipped it steadily, wrinkling her nose ever so slightly in disgust. It was strong, vodka making up the majority of the drink. But she wasn't bothered. She was through to the final of Strictly '18 and she was out to celebrate.

"Let's go dance," the brunette suggested. The redhead nodded her head and, after draining her glass, stood up from the bar and made her way into the centre of the dance floor, already crammed with sweaty and drunk couples, groups of 18 year olds on their first proper nights out, and the occasional lone wolf, abandoned by their tired friends whilst they danced the night away. The two girls picked up the rhythm and beat of the music straight away and began to sway in time, arms above their heads, legs bent at the knee as they moved in perfect unison. Both were professional dancers, and it was noticeable.

"I keep telling myself that as I get older, the hangovers get worse but drunk me doesn't listen," the redhead said as she sipped on the remnants of her third drink.
"I think we should head home in a bit," the brunette suggested, being the sensible one out of the two, "or your boy will get worried as to where we've disappeared off to!"
"Good point. I'll order a car for us." The redhead quickly loaded the app on her phone and ordered an Uber, "5 minutes."

"Cars here." The brunette stood up from her seat and waited for her slightly tipsy redhead to get ready. Walking through the bar, the redhead looked around as they headed for the door. That's when she saw him. Her boyfriend. With his arms around another girl. His lips attached to hers. A surge of anger spread through the whole of the redheads body as she stopped dead in her tracks, staring in disbelief at the sight in front of her.
"What are you doing?" The brunette asked as she turned around. Following her friends gaze, her eyes landed on what her friend was staring at so intensely.
"Oh my god," she gasped. The redhead shook her head and walked over to the boy, tapping him on the shoulder. Breaking away from the girl, he turned around and froze at the sight of her in front of him.
"What do you think you're doing?" The redhead asked calmly.
"I uh.. uh," he stuttered, falling over his words as his brain comprehended his situation.
"We're done," the redhead said sharply. "We're through." She turned and walked away, back to her brunette friend.
"Dianne," the man called, "Wait!" She didn't wait. Dianne was out of the door as quickly as she could have been and into the back of their waiting cab.

The car ride back to Dianne's apartment was silent. Dianne, whose brain was running at 100mph, sat staring out of the window, unseeing as the reality of what she'd just seen hit her. A million questions seemed to run through her head at once, some she could answer, others just made no sense. Was it just a drunken mistake? Was she being slung along by the man she loved? Did the other girl know about her? What was going to happen now?

Amy, who lived in Wolverhampton, had decided it'd be better to go back to Dianne's, instead of having to endure a two hour car journey at midnight. She reached across the back seat and rubbed a comforting hand along Dianne's arm as they arrived at Dianne's apartment. They climbed out and headed upstairs quickly. As soon as the door was closed, Dianne broke down. The tears streamed down her face, her whole body trembled with the weight of her sadness as she swayed on her feet, desperate for someone to catch her. Help her. It had all happened at once. There had been no warning signs in their relationship. No unnecessary arguments. No awkwardness. They hadn't even drifted. And now he was gone, lost to another girl Dianne had never even heard of. Amy had been there to catch her when she came falling down, as her world seemed to break apart at the seams. What was worse was Dianne had seen everything with him. She could see them married, living together in their own house, their own children running around with their dog. But now it was all over. He had betrayed her and taken it all from her, leaving her vulnerable and hurt.
"I don't understand!" She cried, "What did I do?!" Amy held her tightly, unable to answer the question. She had no answer, nothing that could offer just the slightest bit of comfort. Nothing.

The tears slowed. The shaking ceased. Any traces of alcohol gone from her system, leaving behind an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. It had only taken one night for her seemingly perfect world to fall apart, the seams ripped to pieces by selfish and hurtful actions. Slowly, Dianne pulled herself up from the sofa where she had been curled into a ball, wrapped in a blanket as she grew cold and weak, and dragged herself into the bathroom. Her reflection wasn't her. It was a saddened, tear-stained, puffy-eyed face staring back at her, so unlike the Dianne everyone knew and loved. So unlike anything she was used to seeing. No mascara was left on her eyes, the false lashes dangling precariously, the foundation completely cried off around her cheeks, any remaining lipstick smudged. Wisps of red hair were stuck to her face, soaked with tears.
"Why?" Dianne mouthed to her reflection, watching as her eyes pooled with fresh tears, falling slower than before. Her face creased as the hot, salty tears ran down her reddened cheeks, falling into the sink beneath her. The room blacked out as Dianne grabbed the sink in front of her to steady her swaying body as the vodka seemed to rush up her throat. She ducked for the toilet just in time.

Amy, having heard faint coughs coming from the bathroom, jumped up from her seat on the sofa and rushed over to the door, knocking gently to warn Dianne she was coming in before she pushed open the door.
"Oh you poor thing," she sighed as her eyes were met with the sight of Dianne bent double over the basin, holding her hair over one shoulder whilst she coughed. Amy stepped over to her and gently swept Dianne's hair over to her back, holding it between both hands until her friend had straightened herself up.
"Feel better?" Amy asked as Dianne sat back against the cold tiled wall.
"Slightly," Dianne mumbled, pulling the false lashes from her eyes and throwing them in the small bin under the sink.
"Come on," Amy said softly, extending her hands out, "You need to go to sleep." She pulled Dianne from the floor and left her to do her teeth. Dianne wandered back into her room, the disgusting taste gone from her mouth, to find her makeup remover laid out on the bed along with pyjamas and a hot water bottle. She took her makeup off and changed quickly into her pyjamas, climbing into bed with the hot water bottle hugged to her chest.

Amy came through minutes later, two mugs of tea in her hands and passed one to Dianne, who was sat up in bed staring at the wall opposite her. She took it with a weak smile and sipped steadily whilst Amy changed into pyjamas and climbed in next to her.
"I know it's a rubbish feeling Di," Amy said after a few minutes of silence. "I know you don't want to hear this right now, but he's not worth it. Get it all out of your system and then you'll be much happier, trust me. Please." The redhead shrugged and sipped her tea quietly.
"Please Di, it's the best thing you can do."

Dianne woke up at the usual time, her eyes still stinging from the excess of tears she had cried the night before. The only thing she seemed to feel was sadness, but there were no tears left to cry. It was the kind of feeling that she knew would eat at her until, eventually, it would all come undone again. She had no way of predicting when it would all come seeping out again, who she'd be with, where she'd be. All Dianne could do was hope it wouldn't be in front of her dance partner. A skinny, scruffy-haired, blue-eyed 27 year old from the West Country. Joe Sugg. She'd been close to him from the beginning, they were the best of friends, but he had never seen her in such a state. So vulnerable to every little thing, so easily knocked, so desperately in need of comfort. And, when she undoubtedly unravelled, she just hoped there would be someone to catch her.