Are you mine?

Chapter 49

Tonight's party was quite literally a freak show. The circus themed nightclub had red and white fabrics draping from the ceiling and down the walls to imitate the look of an actual tent. It was swarming with clowns, contortionists, jugglers, acrobats, aerial silk dancers hanging from the ceiling, and a singular guy dressed like the Mad Hatter from 'Alice in Wonderland' for some reason.

The night was going quite well, we danced, we laughed, we drank. After about three drinks, Noah kept up his end of our deal, going up to one of the clowns and asking him to dance, to which he very enthusiastically agreed. Noah didn't seem that scared of the clown, and the three of us even took pictures in the photo booth together. They actually appeared quite friendly, a little friendly. I don't know if I should be concerned about that fact or not. Either way, up until that point all was well and good. The problem started when the drinking didn't stop.

There are about four stages to my inebriation, at least that I know of: stage one is happy drunk, stage two is sloppy and a little slutty drunk, then comes emotional drunk (which is everyone's least favourite stage), and finally we have drowsy drunk.

Stage one was pretty short lived, and as the drinks kept flowing and the alcohol percentage in my bloodstream kept rising, I very quickly skipped all the way to stage four. That, combined with the very few hours of sleep I have been getting this week, resulted in me passing out on one of the leather couches, paying no mind to the deafening music or flashing lights. I don't know how long it took, since he was pretty out of it too, but eventually Noah found me taking a nap next to a couple who was putting on quite the show, and when he managed to wake me up we decided it was time to call it a night.

We took the next bus out to the hotel and upon arrival, the delightful smell of fresh pizza filled our noses, guiding us to the poolside bar for a late night snack before going to bed.

"You sure you're okay?" Noah asks as I stare at the untouched slice of pizza resting on my lap.

"Yeah," I reply, shaking my head and trying to snap out of it, but my eyelids still feel like they weigh a ton.

"That doesn't sound very convincing," he says.

"Honestly! I'm fresh as a...pickle," I say, allowing my eyes to drift closed and leaning against his shoulder, comfortable like a pillow due to the amount of muscle built on it.

"That's not how the saying goes," Noah says.

"Who even cares?" I breathe out absentmindedly.

"Me. I care." he says, shaking me in an attempt to keep me awake, "I can't just leave you like this. I think you should stay in my room with me tonight, just so I can keep an eye on you. Make sure you don't swallow your own tongue."

"I like the sound of that," I purr, imagining myself sleeping in the comfort of Noah's arms.

"The question is, how do we sneak you in?" he thinks aloud.

"Oh I know!" I yell, suddenly perking up and attracting a few stares. Noah brings a finger up to his mouth, instructing me to keep quiet, and I imitate him, shushing him back.

"I know how to get in," I whisper.

"How?"

"You go to your room like normal. I'll go through the back, climb in through the balcony, and you can open up for me from the inside. Easy peasy lemon squeezy." I brush imaginary dirt off both my hands.

"That actually doesn't sound like a bad plan," he says, "But how are you going to get to the back?"

"I know a way," I assure him.

"That doesn't answer my question," he says concerned, "Maddie, come back!" he calls my name in a hushed voice, trying to avoid calling attention to us as I start scurrying away. I only turn to wave him off in the direction of his room. He sighs in a 'this girl will be the death of me' manner, but still obliges, starting towards the rooms. I, in turn, head for the lobby.

See, on our first day, I noticed that on the ground level, in the hall that connects the lobby with the boy's rooms, there is a paneless window through which you can sneak into the back of the building, where the boys balconies are. If I manage to climb through it unnoticed, my plan should go smoothly from there. That shouldn't be too difficult, since very few people have come back from the club, and the only two guards I see are on the other end of the hall, deeply engaged in conversation and completely oblivious to my presence.

I wander down the hall, dragging my hand on the wall for stability as I look for the specific window. The flaws in my plan become evident as my vision starts switching in and out of focus, and my body feels like I just rode the merry go round at full speed about fifty times. I'm finding it had to stay on my feet, but right as I'm about to topple to the floor, I find the window I'm looking for, resting against the frame for a second to try to re-centre my gravity.

Feeling like my bones are made of putty, I struggle to push myself up, but after a couple of tries I manage to sit on the windowsill. Unfortunately, as I'm trying to get one of my legs to the other side, I lose balance and end up falling backwards from where I sit onto the grass outside, hitting my head on the ground.

This is the worst plan ever.

I'm drunk as a fish, I can barely stand, and I might be slightly concussed. On the bright side, I made it to the back of the building. In front of me stands a tall concrete wall topped with barbed wire, separating the hotel from the street. To either side of me though, another huge miscalculation in my plan, an infinite stretch of balconies that look exactly the same.

Fuck.

Thankfully, the boy's rooms are on the ground level, and so are their 'balconies'. That will save me the trouble of, you know, plummeting to my death from a second story. I walk back and forth aimlessly, trying to look in the windows or find something distinctive that might indicate which one is Noah's room, but I have no such luck. "Noah!" I whisper-shout his name as I wander, hoping that one of the sliding doors to the rooms will open and his head will poke out. Instead the hex continues, and to my dismay I attract some unwanted attention.

On the far end of the line of balconies, I see a flashlight turn on and I immediately duck behind a tree, bowing my head between my legs and trying my hardest to keep quiet and go unnoticed. Shaking nervously, I'm unable to control the loud noise my heavy breathing is producing, so I cover my mouth and my nose with my unsteady hand in an attempt to stifle it. I recognise my efforts are in vain though, as I hear footsteps getting closer and closer, until they stop and a bright beam of light shines down on me. Looking up, I'm met with a very displeased-looking man in a black uniform staring down at me as he clicks his flashlight off.

Uh-oh.