𝘉𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘉𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 || 𝘈.𝘛

39

Alex Turner

''What!?'' Megan shouts into my ear, unnecessarily trying to overpower the loud music playing within this busy house and I roll my eyes at her unneeded, loud volume. I could kill Colin for making me bring her back with me to the UK.

''I'm gonna' go and get a drink.'' I repeat to her, my volume of tone not changing one bit for her. 

''Okay, I'll stay right here.'' She smiles with flirtatious intentions laced in between that annoying, fake, high-pitched voice of hers.

I give her a shitty attempt of a nod, not having enough energy to give her a full one before I push her off of my arms, where she's happily clung herself.

Pushing through the mounds of bodies, I finally make it to Katie and Jamie's kitchen with the intention of getting the strongest alcohol I can so that I can deal with whatever the fuck is to come tonight. 

Obviously, Brielle is here- and I'm shitting bricks. The last time I spoke to Brielle was during that last phone call when I'd so stupidly admitted to being with Megan and I could barely even think straight just by hearing her over the phone, so I can only imagine what it will be like when I see her tonight. 

Thankfully, I haven't stumbled upon her yet. I do know that she's been staying here since last night but thanks to the hundreds of people that are currently scattered around Jamie and Katie's house, it's been hard to spot her- not that I have any doubts about not being able to spot her through a crowd, because I could. 

''Oh, it's you.'' I hear an unamused sigh from beside me as I scan through the assortments of glass bottles. I drag my gaze from the bottle of vodka in front of me and redirect it to the person who's had a strong distaste for me during the past month. 

''Breana.'' I nod in some sort of greeting, my cheeks heating at the look of disgust upon her face whilst her head stays down, watching her hands as she cuts a few slices of lemons for what I'm assuming is for drinks.

I know, Breana. I'm disgusted too. 

''I'm sick of seeing you.'' Breana understandably admits but I keep my thoughts to myself and instead busy my hands with one bottle that has caught my eye. 

''I apologize.'' I respond almost smugly, cringing at myself in the way that I'm acting so falsely. 

''Prick.'' Breana huffs through her nose, scooping the fruit into her hands before placing it into a bowl.

''Thanks.'' Is all I have to say whilst I inspect the bottle of Jack Daniels in my hand. I almost cheer when I read the label that shows the drink has a percentage of 40, and within seconds, I'm collecting a glass from the side and pouring a fair amount of the liquid into the cup. 

''So help me god, Turner, you say one more word and I'll squeeze this lemon juice into your eyes.'' Breana stands with her front facing my side whilst I pour my drink and I look down at the bowl of lemons in her hand from the side. 

''Is that what you've cut them for?'' I ask, blindly screwing the bottle cap back onto the heavy, expensive glass of whiskey. 

''Say one more word and find out.'' She condescendingly smiles with a taunting tilt of her head and my lip perks up in humour at the corner. Soon, she's rolling her eyes and heading out into the crowd of people, leaving me alone once again. 

My lips burn in the best way possible as soon as the bitter fluid is flowing into my mouth, leaving a burning trail of sticky residue behind on my throat. Satisfied with my drink, I push myself away from the counter in the hopes of getting through the sweaty mounds of bodies dancing in the living room so that I can sit down, but just as I'm about to finally push my self through the crowded doorway, a familiar person is taking full control of my now blurry sight.