the ones society stole

23. teen idle

"all the love you won't forget, & all these reckless nights you won't regret. someday soon, your whole life's gonna change. you'll miss the magic of these good old days." - Macklemore 

The ambience surrounding the two girls was the same as every cliche teenage movie ever. The music was blasting as the walls of the house vibrated with the hum of the bass. Flashes of colored lights flashed wildly, dimly illuminating the sweaty youngsters in the crowd. Somehow, all the chaos built up to a certain grim aesthetic that Arabella could not help but savor. 

this felt like home. 

It was a place where she can lose herself only to find herself again. Where she can drink all her problems away and let the music ring in her eardrums until she couldn't feel a fucking thing. What she loved about places like these, is the fact that it was packed with strangers. People who don't know each other all come together for a night they most likely won't remember, all for it to hit them sometime later with a redundant deja vu. 

"You ready to have some fun?" She asked Isobel, who was to her surprise, looked more excited than her. 

"Hell yeah." Isobel began walking up the steps.

"Wait," Arabella grabbed her arm cautiously, "You know the girl code right?"

"Aww you're so sweet for asking," Isobel smiled, "But yes, I do. We came here together, we leave together. I only drink what I pour myself and we keep an eye on each other."

"I'm impressed."

"Shut up," Isobel rolled her eyes, "I watch a lot of movies."

"Well let's put it into practice," Arabella looped her arm through hers, "Shall we?"

"We shall." 

They walked into the mess of people grinding on each other, embracing the stares that followed. Fashionably late is just on time. As if she was home again, Arabella allowed herself to take delight in the loud rhythmic bass of the music she could feel her body begging to dance. But, you don't dance without a drink, everyone knows that. She let Isobel straight to the kitchen, AKA the makeshift bar, and opened a brand new bottle of whiskey. Her favorite. 

"Gosh, don't they have some wine? Or at least some champagne?" Isobel said from beside her, her face contorted into an expression of pure disdain, "What even is Captain Morgan?"

"You're not serious right?" Arabella, already on her second cup, gave her a flat look. 

"You should have told me to bring my own bottle," Isobel eyed the red cup warily, "And isn't it polite to do that?"

"This isn a BYOB."

"A what?"

"I am seriously going to slap you. Have you been living under a rock?"

"Not really. More like living under mountains of books and research papers." 

"Well that changes tonight," Arabella threw her head back as she downed a shot without a chaser, before handing Isobel a cup, "Drink up, it's time to dance."

"How many drinks have you had? I don't dance."

"Oh please, I'm not that drunk. You're on the dance team for fuck's sake."

"It was worth a try." Isobel shrugged as her face shriveled up in disgust as she took a sip of the cheap vodka Arabella poured her. 

She followed Arabella to the dance floor, which seriously could have been the ninth circle of hell.  She ignored the looks the guys gave her and tried to stay as close to Arabella as possible. She couldn't help but notice how good Arabella looked, it was like seeing someone in their natural state. Arabella was a natural. The way her hips moved and how her dark hair fell seductively in front of her face. The colorful lights caused a shimmer on her cheekbones, and illuminated her hooded eyelids that were painted as dark as the night. 

What she would give to look like her. 

Little did she know, that Arabella was envying her as well. The way her pin straight blonde hair fell perfectly down her back, even though they were in a party. How she looked like she bled privilege while the dress she wore only confirmed it. She wanted to be as skinny as Isobel, with legs for days and a body that can literally pull off anything. Isobel was the picture-perfect girl. 

What she would give to be like her. 

A couple drinks later, the thoughts clouded over and Isobel finally was able to let loose. It was a pleasant thing to see, and Arabella wished she could remember this moment. To see someone break out of their shell, and embrace their crazy uniqueness. Isobel bloomed like a flower in the springtime, a late bloomer for sure, but one of the most beautiful. 

"This is fucking amazing!" Isobel yelled as she was swayed and stumbled up on a table, it was miraculous that she didn't fall yet. It caused her dress raising slightly, catching the eyes of many guys. Arabella suddenly felt protective over Isobel, as if she was her big sister and it was her job to shield her innocent soul from the darkness of the outside world. 

You never should have brought her here. 

Due to Isobel's lack of alcohol tolerance, she was already drunk. Arabella was only slightly tipsy, still attentive to her responsibility of keeping the golden girl safe. She had to think, quickly too. Neither of them were in a state to drive and even if Arabella was, she didn't know how to. She can call an Uber, but then they would have to wait outside in the chilly air for a good couple minutes. She regretted drinking as much as she did, her thoughts would be way more clearer. It really isn't that hard to leave a party you didn't want to be at. 

It wasn't the alcohol though, she soon realized. It was like there was something telling her stay. This was who she was. This place of people losing themselves was her sanctuary. Of course she didn't want to go. Why should she? This was where she felt the most accepted. Where she felt the most open, and somehow, the most free. 

You said you were going to do better. 

The music was instantly muted as the internal battle took place. She made the choice to be better, and there was no going back on her word. How can she say that she still wanted Jacian but did not change herself in any way? She did not make herself worthy of him. She wasn't worthy of his love. What the fuck was she thinking?

He needed someone strong. Someone mentally stable. Someone who was everything Arabella wasn't. That is the only way he can recover. The only way he could be saved. 

But who will save you?

It took Arabella a second to ponder the question. Well, the best pondering she could do while intoxicated. Who ever said that you can't love someone until you love yourself was right. So, that is what she is going to do. She will fix herself, for her own self. 

Grabbing Isobel's arm, Arabella helped her down from the table. Telling her that it was time to go, she ignored Isobel's pout and headed towards the door they entered though. Squeezing through a crowd of horny teens was hard enough, especially when you had to somewhat carry an incredibly wasted barbie. 

Inhaling the fresh air, she let a smile grow on her face. She just proved to herself that she was able to save herself. She walked into an anti sober wonderland and managed to stay sober through it. Well, she was a little tipsy, but she allowed herself the luxury of social drinking when she vowed to get clean. She took the time to look at the raging lights and listen to the loud music one last time, at least for a while. It was time for a change in her life, and she was ready to embrace it. 

We all have to leave our home at some point.