Chapter 2: The Confession.

"Yeah, I...I..." She stammered.

"Lucas!" A man's voice echoed across the room. It was one of his board members, judging by the tailored suit and harried expression.

"Oh shit! Uhm... I'm so sorry, kiddo, I have to attend to this right now. It's very urgent, I gotta go, but I promise, I will be right back." He said, already pivoting to leave, his eyes apologetic but his stride determined.

"Oh shit! Why is it so hard for me to confess my feelings? Damn!" She muttered, the words catching in her throat. She moved to where her friend was sitting, weaving through the crowded tables.

"Hey sweetheart, what's wrong with you? Why do you look so sad?" Helen, her friend, a beautiful lady with blonde hair framing her face, inquired, concern etched on her features.

"I don't know, I feel like I'm going crazy. I can't even tell him how I feel, no!" she exclaimed, her frustration bubbling over. She slammed her hand on the cocktail table, making the glasses jump. The music pulsed around them, loud and insistent, making conversation a struggle.

"I know that crap, I understand how you feel. I've been in your shoes before and I think what worked for me is.... Idea!" She exclaimed, snapping her fingers as if a lightbulb had gone off. "Maybe you should drink, it always helps. It is 100% effective, I bet you're going to spill out everything to him in a flash." A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes.

"Are you sure this is going to help me?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowed with doubt.

"Of course, I put a hundred dollars down on that," She chuckled, a confident smirk playing on her lips. "Trust me, a little liquid courage never hurt anyone. Besides," she leaned closer conspiratorially, "what's the worst that could happen?"

She hesitated, then added, "Just don't go throwing up on his shoes, okay?" She winked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Oh god, Helen!" She exclaimed, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Maybe, just maybe, this crazy idea could work. Anything was better than the agony of unspoken feelings. She took a deep breath, the music swirling around her, and signaled to the bartender for another drink. Tonight was going to be interesting, to say the least.

"Okay, let me try it." Ava held the shot glass a little awkwardly. Some punch she'd spilled earlier made her fingers a bit sticky. The tequila looked shiny under the party lights. She took a breath and tipped the glass back. The liquid burned going down. She coughed, her eyes watering. "Jeez! Is this what alcohol tastes like?"

Helen, wearing a sparkly black dress, smiled. "Yeah, welcome to being grown up." She picked up the tequila bottle, the label a mix of gold and red. She nudged the bottle closer. "Have some more."

Ava wasn't sure. Her throat still felt hot, but it wasn't a bad hot. She also felt a little dizzy. But everyone else was drinking, and Helen seemed to think it was fine. She pushed the glass forward. The second shot went down easier. It felt warm in her chest.

"Another one?" Helen asked.

Ava's cheeks felt hot, and the music seemed really loud all of a sudden. But the warm feeling was nice. "Okay," she said, maybe a little too fast.

She barely remembered the third shot. The room was kind of spinning, not in a bad way, but definitely spinning. The party noise sounded far away, and the lights were blinking like crazy. She reached for the bottle. She wanted more of that warm, fuzzy feeling.

Suddenly, someone took the bottle from her hand. "Stop, Ava," Lucas said. He looked worried.

"No!" Ava said, her words a little slurred. She tried to grab the bottle back, but she wasn't very coordinated. "You're not the boss of me!" She bumped into Lucas. "I'm not a kid anymore and I can drink whenever I want to. Ava snatched it back, her eyes flashing. "You're not gonna tell me what to do! I'm not a kid anymore. She poured a generous amount, sloshing some onto the table. "Have some!" she demanded, thrusting the glass at Lucas.

Lucas sighed. "If we both drink, who's going to look after everyone?" He pointed to the other people at the party, some of whom looked a little tipsy too.

Ava scoffed, but downed the drink, she knew he was right, even though her brain felt fuzzy. She swayed slightly, then grabbed Lucas's hand, her fingers clumsy, pulling him towards the makeshift dance floor. "Come on, dance with me!" The music pulsed, and she stumbled into him, laughing, her voice louder than she meant it to be.

The party started to wind down. The music got quieter and then stopped. People said goodbye and left. Ava leaned on Lucas, hiccuping. She wasn't laughing anymore. The half-empty tequila bottle sat on the table.

They sank down onto the plush carpet, a worn spot revealing the hardwood underneath. This was their spot, their place. They'd shared countless late-night talks here, whispered secrets, laughed until their sides hurt.

Ava sniffled, tears welling up in her eyes. "Why can't you just get it?" Her voice was thick with emotion, hinting at a deeper pain than just being drunk.

Lucas was confused, his brows furrowed . "Whoa, what's with you? You're wasted, Ava. Let's just get you some water, okay?" He said standing up.

"No, I'm not!" she protested, though her words wobbled. "I love you, Lucas. Like, really love you. But you don't...you don't see it. You.. you're too dense to see it."

Of course I love you, you are my little kiddo"

Ava's eyes flashed, hurt and anger mingling in their depths. "That's not what I mean! Don't you get it? I don't want to be your little kiddo'. I want… I want more." Her voice cracked, tears streaming down her face.

Lucas looked uncomfortable, avoiding her gaze. "You're not making any sense right now. You're just drunk. Let's get you to bed." He reached to help her up.

Ava grabbed his collar, pulling him down. Her eyes locked onto his, pleading and vulnerable. She kissed him, a quick, desperate press of her lips against his. Then, she slumped against him, unconscious.

Lucas caught her, his expression a mix of shock and confusion. He gently lifted her into his arms, his heart pounding in his chest. The kiss, though brief and fueled by alcohol, spoke volumes, leaving him with a whirlwind of unspoken emotions to grapple with.