Chapter 3

Danielle's POV 

Clara nodded to me and rushed back into the prom venue. She emerged a few minutes later with her bag, then dragged me towards the street. She hailed a cab without another word, gave the driver the address to her house, and we drove off.

Throughout the ride, we sat in silence. Clara kept stealing covert, worried glances at me, and I knew she was wondering the thoughts going on in my head. The emotional wound inflicted by Davis was still fresh, and the thought of immersing myself in another party seemed terrifying, but I let Clara take the lead tonight. If the party would help me feel better, then it wouldn't hurt to try.

"Stop thinking about him," Clara murmured to me. I nodded, still unbelieving, but Clara's unwavering support reminded me that I couldn't allow myself to be consumed by heartbreak.

Summoning my strength, I nodded again, a glimmer of determination igniting within me. "You're right, Clara. I can't let this...betrayal define me. I need to move forward, heal, and rediscover my own worth. Let's go to that after-party, and I'll embrace the chance to meet new people."

Clara's eyes sparkled with pride as she pulled me into a warm embrace. "There you go, D!"

Soon we arrived at her house in record time. Clara got down from the cab and pulled me out, then dragged me inside. We climbed the staircase to her room, where she applied a fresh slather of makeup on my face and changed my dress. This new one was even tighter than the former, but I let her dress me up in peace.

By the time we got back to the venue of the prom, the after-party was already in full swing. The vibrant beats of music pulsed through the crowded hall, engulfing me in a sea of swirling bodies. 

I couldn't see much through the colors and rhythms that threatened to overwhelm my senses, but Clara led the way for me. We got to the bar and plopped down on the stools.

"Phew!" Clara muttered, looking around. "Who knew that the after-party would be this crowded? I wasn't expecting this much people, were you?"

"Yeah, I guess." I grimaced and waved her away absentmindedly. Clara's choice of an armless, short gown had left me feeling self-conscious and uncomfortable, despite her teasing about my looking like a goddess. 

"Here. Drink this." Clara passed me a tall glass of some golden liquid from the bar. Without thinking, I raised the glass and downed it in one big gulp.

Alcohol.

Ugh!

It burned and tore at my throat, but I managed to keep it down.The dress chafed under my armpits, and soon I felt beads of sweat gather on my forehead. I took a deep breath, determined to adjust and shed my nervousness.

I watched as Clara caught the eyes of someone across the room. Before I could wonder what was going on, she turned to me. "Hey. Stay here, I'm coming. If you need to rest or just get away, here's a key to a room in this hotel." She murmured.

I opened my mouth to protest, but Clara had slipped a key into my hand and crossed the crowded room. I groaned; how could she bring me to this party only to dump me?

Looking around, I scanned the pulsating crowd, searching for Clara's familiar face. I couldn't shake the feeling of unease, wondering why she had brought me to this lively scene only to seemingly disappear. Doubts began to creep into my mind, 

Shaking off my worries, I turned to the bar attendant. "Another drink, please!"

The bar attendant emptied the content of a dark bottle into my empty cup; a velvet-red liquid this time. I murmured a "Thanks."and poured everything down my throat.

The room was starting to swim before my eyes. Images were standing out to me in twos and threes. As the alcohol coursed through my veins, my unease intensified. I felt my control slipping away, and a voice within me pleaded for respite.

Your exams! The voice screamed.

Get the hell out of here!

With shaky legs, I stood from the bar stool, looking around once again for Clara. Finally I found her in the middle of the room, talking with an unfamiliar guy.

I staggered towards her drunkenly. With a wavering voice, I groaned, "Clara, I don't think I can handle this party anymore. I want to go home."

In the part of my mind that wasn't soaked with alcohol, I vaguely registered Clara sharing a victorious look with the stranger. She turned to me and her eyes widened with surprise and disappointment. "But it's still early! We're having such a great time. Don't you want to keep the night going?"

My head spun, my thoughts muddled by the alcohol. Yet deep down, I knew I needed to prioritize my well-being. Ignoring the protestations of my friend, I stood my ground. "I'm really not feeling too good, Clara. I think it's best if I rest."

Clara's expression softened, a concern and understanding look crossing her face. "Fine," she muttered. "You can go to the room I reserved in the hotel and sleep off the drinks."

With a grateful nod, I weaved my way through the crowd, feeling the weight of the alcohol bearing down on me. Each step was a struggle, my mind clouded and my body unsteady. The club's vibrant lights and booming music began to blur, fading into a haze as I made my way to the stairs that led up.

I began to climb the steps one at a time, trying to steady myself. I clutched the key Clara had given me, its cool metal offering a lifeline in the midst of my disorientation. I got to the first landing, then stared at the number on the key.

"99," I murmured to myself. Or was it 66? Whatever. 

I continued to climb the stairs, stopping at the second landing. My eyes glazed over the numbers on the doors, trying to figure out the right one. Finally they rested on room number 66—or 99?

Minutes turned into an eternity as I stumbled forward to the door, my senses dulled and my mind filled with a mix of regret and gratitude. Regret for allowing myself to be consumed by the allure of temporary escapism, and gratitude for Clara's understanding and support.

I fumbled with the key to the door for a few minutes, finally managing to open it. I staggered inside, vaguely noting the unnatural dimness of the room. But all that didn't matter, I thought. 

My eyes caught the large, inviting bed in the middle of the room. I sighed gratefully, then stumbled towards it, collapsing on the soft, plush quilts.

I felt myself immediately drifting into a drunken sleep, when I heard the soft creak of a door. In my alcohol-soaked haze, I managed to lift my head just in time to see a masculine figure standing several feet away from me, clad in nothing but a towel.

We stared at each other for several, tense seconds. And then we both exclaimed: "What the fuck?!"