l o s t [m.h, g.d]

8

He giggled. Drunk. 'Sorry. Couldn't hold it. Why the fuck is you hiding in here anyway.'

'I told you, I'm not good at company.' I said. My voice sounded resigned. Hand still pressed to my eye sockets. The darkness was kind of nice.

He repeated what I said, mimicked my accent. The sound of his zipper. I dropped my hand, fixed my gaze on the back of his head sulkily. He pushed the flush with his foot.

He shoved me gently out of the way of the sink, washing his hands, fixing his hair.

'We should leave the flat, then. You might feel better.' He slung his arm around my shoulder. 'How bout it?' He said into my ear quietly, his face pressing into my hair. I shivered inwardly at the feeling of his breath.

We were by the couch. George grabbed us and pulled us down on top of him. We fell either side. George's arm was supporting my back, my legs over his and Matty's. I accepted a shot. Adam or Hann or whatever they call him was watchful of us. This must look weird, I admit. Homeless girl walks into his two best mates lives. They become a weird threesome.

Matty's hand was on my shin. I gave in as I felt the alcohol spreading more and leaned my swimming head against George's shoulder.

I'd lost it. I consumed more shots. Matty was feeding off it, pouring me more. I think he was relieved, a suggestion that I might actually be some fun after all. George smoked more than he drank. I didn't understand how he could keep going. I would have been asleep by now. He was dozy and I could tell he liked the closeness of me. He drummed a lazy beat on my back.

I was far too comfy. Absorbing George's warmth again.

~

The bar was tiny and low ceilinged, above a chip shop. Matty was prancing along the bar, shaking his hair and singing into the crackly mic.

I leant against George, terrified and elated at the same time. I was drunk now. That was it. My tolerance had gone down. I dreaded what this would spark. I'd always either drunk too much or gone months without.

Georges arm was wrapped around my waist protectively.

'He's the frontman then?' I deducted. George nodded. I turned to face him, peering up at him, curious now.

'And you are...' I looked him over. The muscular upper body. I grabbed his hand. Half-healed cuts along the knuckles. He looked down at me, waiting. 'Drummer.'

'Correct.'

'I always wanted to play the drums.'

'I'd teach you, but I'd have to charge.'

'I'd be useless anyway.'

We watched Matty more. He was kicking bottles off the bar, his shirt undone. I could see the barmaid getting nervous.

I looked questioningly at George. He made a dismissive face. 'They're used to his antics. He gets carried away with karaoke, thinks he's playing Glastonbury. They'll just chuck him out if he makes too much mess.'

I laughed. I leant into George, wrapping my arms around his waist and attempting to sway him. 'Do you want to dance with me?' I smiled up at him. I really shouldn't drink.

He frowns back down at me, laughing. 'You're like a completely different person tonight.'

'That's because I'm drunk. There's a reason I don't drink that much often anymore.'

'That sentence didn't make sense, sweetheart.'

The word sounded sweet coming from George's mouth. I was used to hearing it from Matty.