Shadows and Stars ✔

Chapter Thirteen

"Down it! Down it! Down it!"

The loud, simultaneous chants of drunk students fill the club as myself, Hailey and several others are encouraged—or practically forced—to down a glass of double Malibu and Coke.

I've never liked to down my drinks like we are, but something about this night—and the way I currently feel—makes me want to become a daring, wild and carefree woman.

Hailey is first to finish, followed by Holly. Finally I choke on the burning alcohol as I empty my glass last. My head spins, my body flustered as I stand around a high wooden table, the flurry of people in front of me now blurring into one colourful mess.

The club we've found ourselves in is small but bright, rows of large glass windows lining the back wall allowing us a spectacular view of the city. Dance-pop music fills the large space, and I assume Will must know someone here given that a waiter with long hair tied into a bun continues to bring us various drinks and shots free of charge.

At 10pm we move to another club across the street.
I run to the toilet, my bladder seal broken. As I sit in the cubicle, my vision spinning fiercely, I take my phone from my bag with a sigh.

Every time I look at the screen a small part of me hopes to see a message from Grayson, but once again, as expected, there's nothing. I consider sending him a message myself, to tell him how his sudden absence from my life has made me feel, but I dismiss the thought immediately; I won't give into my willpower—or stubbornness, for that matter.

The club we're in is extremely busy, and I just about spot Hailey through the many dancing bodies when I exit the toilet.

She's moved to the dance floor along with Holly, the rest of her friends sitting on high stools at a large round table. Thankfully, it seems Lewis has left, or moved elsewhere, so I'm grateful that I don't have to engage in any further awkward conversation with him.

"Mia, here you go!" Will shouts from behind me, my eyes popping at the sight of the tray of cocktails he holds within his hands. "This one's for you."

He hands me a cocktail which, judging by the passion fruit that floats on top, I think is a Pornstar Martini—coincidentally, one of my favourite cocktails. I'm aware that I'm mixing my drinks, and I know I'll pay the price tomorrow, but I've lost the will to care right now; I'm having a great time and that's what matters.

"Thanks!" I yell, sitting upon an empty stool at the table.

Will is so friendly and considerate, and it's obvious that he's attracted to Hailey by the way he admires her on the dance floor, but I know she doesn't see him that way. To her, he's just a friend.

I place my half-drunk cocktail onto the table, watching Hailey run towards us from the dance floor.

"Mia, come on!" She bellows, her drunk eyes gesturing me towards the cramped dance floor. "Let's go dance!"

"You know I don't dance," I say with a giggle, taking another large sip of my cocktail.

"You do tonight!" Hailey retaliates, forcing me from the stool. "Come on!"

My limp body succumbs to Hailey's persuasiveness, finding myself stuck on the dance floor alongside Holly and a couple of others. The floor is sticky, the air humid, but, not wanting to give a damn tonight, I throw my arms upward, my body involuntarily swaying to the beats of the music.

Truth be told, this actually helps, and letting my hair down never did feel so good.

***

"Mia, come on we're going."

Huh?

Too focused on dancing the night away, I hadn't even noticed both Hailey and Holly had disappeared from the dance floor. Hailey takes my wrist, urging me to follow her outside.

"Where are we going?" I slur. "Are we going home?"

It doesn't feel that late, and I couldn't have been dancing for that long. Are we really headed home already?

"No," Hailey scoffs, a giggle rolling from her lips. "We're moving on!"

To my surprise, and through my blurred vision, I realise that we are now in Leicester Square—only a mere few minutes from Plasma.

Involuntarily, I gulp. London is so big that it's hard to know which area you're in half of the time, and being so close to that place sends my body into a frenzy. Could I really be that close to Grayson Cooper right now?

My heart rate increasing, my brain reminds me of my first night at that place; reminding me of him.

I fight every urge inside of me that's telling me to go there; telling me to find that gorgeous man and set the record straight.

But I can't. As much as I want to, I can't embarrass myself like that, not when there was barely anything between in the first place anyway.

Snapping me from my daydreaming, Hailey pulls me to another small nightclub situated on the corner, both of us stumbling into the entrance without a care in the world.

Flopping her intoxicated body onto a stool, Hailey slurs a few words to the barman, smiling menacingly as he throws some clear liquid into a row of shot glasses.

I roll my eyes lazily, before being handed a shot of tequila. The aroma of the pure alcohol does nothing for the nausea that's fighting it's way from my stomach, and once the shot is thrown down my throat, I hurl myself outside to catch some fresh air.

Why did I think mixing my drinks would be a good idea?

I lean my limp body on a damp wall outside, appreciating the cool breeze that sinks into my skin and lungs. The streets in front of me are still heaving; still full of life. Granted, I have to squint to make out the buildings, but I smile all the same; this place is electrifying.

Electric.

Yeah, I can see electric. Right in front of me.

The prominent, all too obvious sight of pink and blue  in the distance shocks my entire body, every damned cell inside of vibrating with fear.

Plasma is right there; right across the way. A five minute drunken walk at most.

Grayson could be in there. He could be right there, working behind that bar. And I could see him again. I could see him tonight.

It's a bad idea, I know that deep down. But for some, crazy, goddamn stupid reason, I can't seem to stop my feet from pulling me to the all too huge, too electrifying, glass-built nightclub.

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