no trivia [jori]

3

Would you be depressed,
If I attend that wedding,
But only as a guest?
Such an unfaithful bride
Draped in a dress
Threads of my-

I'd managed to slip away from my minder. Andre had been called by Beck the second we landed in New York, the groom begging him to get to the hotel fast to help out with some last minute details for the wedding. Just over hearing the conversation made me sick.

We managed to get to where we were staying in record time, Andre collected our key, as he made sure we were staying in the same room- with separate beds of course- then dumped me and his stuff inside before rushing off again to catch a cab and meet up with Beck, warning me that I 'better still be here when he gets back or else.'

I had half a mind to ignore him and run for it, but something was keeping me in place. Some stupid, buried deep hope that told me I'd made it this far, I might as well see where it goes from here. So I dropped myself onto the end of my bed, wondering what to do... then I spotted it. Andre may have been able to take my wine away on the plane, but he couldn't keep me from the mini bar. Or room service.

So that's why I found myself, who knows how long later, laying face down on my bed with an empty bottle clutched in one hand and my nose buried deep into the thin pillow they had provided. It doesn't take much to get me drunk, something I'm actually pretty glad about on a night out because it costs me less than it would for most of my friends, but there were still half drunk bottles littered around me where I'd decided to taste test everything the place had to offer, which was quite a lot.

I was slipping in and out of consciousness and I'd have been quite happy to just pass out, but the faded memories were once again slipping through the cracks, laughing at me, feeding on my hopeless heart. They brought me back to when this all began, a drunken party so long ago.

I walked around the big, unfamiliar house in a daze, a red cup full of some obviously spiked punch held tightly in one hand, but I wasn't complaining. We were at the house party of some Hollywood Arts student I hardly knew, but Andre said he did and had insisted that I come along to have some fun and at least keep him company; he was the designated driver, meaning he had to remain stone cold sober all night.

Somewhere along the line, however, Andre and I had managed to lose each other when I went off to fill my cup up for the fourth (maybe fifth?) time, despite him telling me to take it easy- it was a party, why couldn't I have a little fun?. That's why I stumbled around the place, pushing past hoards of drunken dancing people on the look out for my friend.

I made it to a corridor, deserted save for the couple that were vigorously making out against a wall, but I ignored them and they ignored me as I passed by. I pressed my ear to every door I came across, searching for a familiar voice, hoping Andre had sneaked off to some place quiet instead of staying with the loud, obnoxious party goers all insisting he joined in their drinking games.

At the final door I heard a noise. I heard someone speak and in the back of my mind I knew I recognised that voice, but couldn't put a finger on it. Whoever it was, my drunken thoughts told me they may be able to help me out, so I pushed the door open.

It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the lack of light, but when they did, I froze. I'd walked in on Beck and Jade, lying on a half made bed in what seemed to be the middle of a heated make out session. My heart leapt and jammed in my throat, my alcohol fuzzed mind couldn't think of what to do and I just stood there, gawping at them in stunned silence. It took them a few moments to realise I had walked in and when they did, they jumped apart, neither looking too pleased at my arrival.