Elle

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Lighting a cigarette, the silhouette becomes as clear as day. It's a lady with short, blonde hair, red high heels, a short skirt, ripped vest top and an enigmatic smile.

She stands in front of him. "Hey."

Sad Boy nods and looks up. "Hi."

"Do ye happen to have any spare cigarettes? I've been looking around all night and none of those miserable sods will give me one."

Sad Boy nods, holding up the packet. "I have one left, so use it wisely aye?"

She thanks him and takes it. "I need a light too."

Sad Boy offers her his lighter. "Ye can keep this one. I'm tryna kick t' habit."

"Same." She adds with a chuckle. "Do ye mind if I sit with ye and smoke this?"

"Go ahead." He smiles. "I'm Liam but ev'ryone calls me Sad Boy or Lee. Mostly Sad Boy."

"I'm Donelle but everyone calls me Elle. Nice to meet ye, Sad Boy."

"Aye, likewise. It's sure great ta be out here in t' fresh air." He adds. "Had a weird dream."

"About what?"

"Edgar."

She laughs. "The DJ? Do ye find him hot or something?"

He shakes his head. "Never even knew he existed 'til I had t' dream. It was weird."

"Oh? I see. Maybe it was for a reason. And ye have to figure that reason out."

"Aye, I'm still figurin' out how I even got ta this party in t' first place," he adds with a chuckle, "all I remember is havin' t' trippy dream, freakin' out an' wakin' up here."

"So it's like The Hangover all over again?"

He nods. "I guess so."

"I can help ye if ye want." She offers. "I got nothing better to do. Lost my mates a long time ago."

"Aye." He smiles. "So I remember wakin' up on t' sofa."

"Okay. Ye woke up. What happened before that?"

"I was trippin' absolute balls. Had that dream which felt more like a nightmare."

"Then what?"

"I can't remember anything at all," he admits, "I dunno how I even got high in t' first place."

She hands him some pills. "Take these. They'll help ye remember. They help me a lot."

He raises his eyebrows. "Ye sure?"

She puts some in her hands as well. "I wouldn't take 'em myself if I wasn't sure."

"On three?"

She nods. "Three."

"Two."

"One."

Slugging the rest of his sangria, the pills slide effortlessly into his system.

"Ready for another adventure?"

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