Come What May

5. in a blur

trigger warning : sexual harassment.

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CHAPTER FIVE

IN A BLUR

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• friday, march 12th •

Over the roar of music, a distant, hazy chatter tickles my ears, but I can't seem to make out any words, distorted laughter ringing in my brain, one that just won't stop, no matter which part of the room I go to.

To make things worse, the song that's blaring through the speakers gets louder, pulling me in and refusing to let go. I almost have no choice but to join in with the crowd of people, all dolled up in clothes that look so unbelievably expensive that I'm uncomfortable, and I'm wearing one of my most expensive silk shirts.

The glasses of champagne seem like they'd be fun to drink though, so I make my way over to the tray that has all the champagne glasses and take two, handing one to Radhika who just giggles and pats my face before accepting the glass and downing it at once, causing everyone around us to shoot daggers in her direction.

"Radhika," I mutter, taking the glass back and setting it down again. "Take it slow. It's been like, half an hour and you're already drunk."

"I'm just tipsy," she shoots back, but the sparkle behind her eyes is only getting brighter, meaning that she's a little more than just tipsy. "You should— you should drink some more! If you want. I dunno. Whatever the fuck you wanna do. The champagne tastes of vanilla! Vanilla and bitterness. You love vanilla!"

She's way more than just tipsy, so I link our arms together, the sleeve of my shirt rubbing against her bare arms as I do so, and drag her over to the couch where a bunch of her friends are seated, people I've never spoken to.

"Hey, uh— can you make sure she stays okay?" I ask them despite my awkwardness, because as much as I want to spend time with her at the party, I know that wants to spend time with her friends from here. No drunk person at a party wants to spend all their time with a sober one. "Just make sure she doesn't get too drunk, please."

Of course, all her friends nod and take her with them, shooting me sloppy thumbs up's and sloppier hums of agreement as they shoo me away, a chorus of high-pitched giggles escaping their mouths as I walk away.

The crowd in the party only seems to be increasing, overpoweringly scented bodies moving away from the walls to the center of the room, so I decide to leave the room for a bit, just to get some fresh air and hopefully get rid of the zest of the champagne in my mouth.

My eyes flit to the sliding doors of the room, I'm not even sure whose house we're in, but I see Russel, who's standing in the corner of the room with his back pressed against the wall, I fix my hair and hastily button up the top of my shirt, because the absolute last thing that I want to do is make him think I'm unprofessional.

As I pass by him, I'm not entirely sure if I should be letting him know that I'm going to the back porch for a bit, but when the stench of weed hits my nose, I decide that it's better to leave him alone.

I'm so close to the exit, so close to escaping the hell-hole that is this party, so, so close to my chest finally freeing up slightly, when someone calls my name.

"Hey, Asif! Leaving so soon?"

I don't recognise the voice, which isn't that surprising considering I don't know too many people in this city at all, but what stands out to me is that their voice sounds like they know me.