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Sam and Janine were taking turns to do lines of coke at the table. Madison sat with them, her feet up on the chair in front. The music was still loud, pulsing through her body as she sipped brandy from the bottle and avoided eye contact with everyone.

"I want to dance," Janine said, standing up. Sam smiled at her, adoration all over his face.

"Go dance then," he said.

She pouted. "Come with me?" Sam shook his head,

"I don't dance." She didn't try and convince him, instead, turned to Madison, hands out.

"Dance with me?" Madison looked around. They could barely move in the living room. Sweaty bodies rubbed against each other, grinding and gyrating ferociously. It wasn't exactly something she wanted to partake in. She'd never even set foot in a night club. The scene was bizarre to her inexperienced eyes.

Through the crowd, she spotted Jase watching her. She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or this newly discovered side of her identity, but she enjoyed the way he watched her, tasting her with his eyes. And he didn't look away, even when she caught him. He wanted her to know he was watching. Just like he had when she got on the bus. She looked back to Janine, still waiting. With a defeated huff, she let Janine drag her to the middle of the room, brandy bottle in hand. It was working as a crutch, Madison gripped the neck of the bottle like her life depended on it, like merely having the alcohol in her hand would bring her confidence. Because if she was going to dance and have Jase watch her, she needed it.

Jase joined Sam a short while later, sitting side on to the coffee table that Janine and Madison were dancing on top of. He was slouched in the wooden chair with a cigarette between his lips, cutting lines with a debit card on his phone screen. But he wouldn't take his attention away from Madison for long. She swayed to the music, winding her hips and running her free hand through her hair, drinking with the other. She moved like a snake, which was rather fitting, he thought. Whilst he didn't appreciate the complexity of the situation surrounding Madison, he continued to be hypnotised by her. Curiosity winning over irritation at every turn.

As he tipped his head back from another line, Jase caught someone he didn't recognise putting their hands on Madison's waist. His jaw tightened involuntarily but he waited to see how she'd react. Without missing a beat, Madison wound her hips as she turned away from the stranger, their fingers slipping from her waist like water off a duck's back, and closed the space between her and Janine. She'd seen enough movies to know how to dance with other girls, putting her own hands on Janine's hips and swaying in motion with her.

This was not the Madison Jase knew. The Madison he knew was not seductive and mischievous, she was cunning and cutthroat. The brandy bottle contents had diminished significantly since she'd taken it, he put this new side of her down to inebriation, rather than one of the many masks she wore.

The guy reached out for her again but Kieran tapped him on the shoulder. leaning into his ear before gesturing in Jase's direction. The stranger's eyes widened, his hands went up in a silent apology. Jase acknowledged him with a nod, and the guy backed away from the girls.

Madison smiled discreetly, revelling in the idea of being untouchable at the mere mention of Jase's name. She liked that there was a rippling effect from the respect people had for Jase. Janine was right, again. Perhaps being his pet wasn't the worst position to be in.

Come the early hours of the morning, the music had been turned down, and there were only a few people dotted around, engrossed in drug-fuelled conversations. Janine was still slow dancing on the coffee table. Jase had gone through a gram of coke and his come down for the past four days was hitting him tenfold. He looked up from his phone at Madison sitting beside him, her head in her arms, face down. She hadn't moved in the past twenty minutes.

"Madison," he said. She hummed in response. "Go to bed."

"I'm not tired," she whined, her voice limp and eyes heavy, an unmissable contradiction to her claim. When she eventually stopped dancing, the drunkness had hit her like a ton of bricks.

"I'm not asking." With an exhausted grumble, Madison slid her arms off the hardwood, sitting up and flipping her hair over one shoulder. At some point, the space buns had unravelled into two wonky ponytails. She rubbed her lips together, scrunching her nose at the tackiness of her mouth. She looking around the room, laughing softly at Janine, still going strong. "Now, Madison," Jase repeated.

"I'm going," she groaned, annoyed at herself that she'd let the evening slip through her fingers due to her alcohol consumption and thus, she had missed a night of opportunity to chip away at Jase in her new role. She stood up, walking carefully to the living room door before stopping, holding onto the doorframe for balance and looking back at him. The night wasn't over yet and the brandy had definitely given her a double dose of dutch courage. "Are you coming?"

Jase momentarily froze, his eyes narrowing on her. A million different thoughts bombarded his already messy mind. There was an echo of what could only be described as want in her question. He didn't know how to interpret it.

"Not right now," he replied. He didn't feel like dealing with Madison whilst on a comedown. It hardly put him in the most tolerating moods. She shrugged and disappeared.

"What was that about?" Sam asked. He had barely taken his eyes off Janine all night, only ever briefly to do another line. Jase was staring at the empty doorway. Sam had picked up on it too, so he hadn't imagined it. Had she meant for them to pick up on it? It was certainly a flip from 'fuck you'. The brandy bottle was empty. He'd only had a few doubles from it once Madison had returned to the table. He shook his head. She was too drunk to be deploying her schemes, the paranoia stemmed from his come down.

"She's wasted. She's worked her way through half a bottle of brandy. It's a wonder she can still fucking walk," he mumbled.

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