*

It was 11:31pm and I was currently having a staring contest with a full bottle of Bacardi.

The question was: to drink or not to drink?

My phone buzzed and I saw that it was a call from Anthony.

Tonight was the night of the party Anthony had invited me to, and I wasn't sure if I could get through it without some liquid courage.

Yesterday night after the rooftop, Colton drove me back home and we were on good terms. Sort of?

We both agreed on being 'not friends'...whatever the hell that means.

And either way, I promised myself; new beginnings.

No more thinking of Colton in that way.

Out of respect for Colton, out of respect for Brooke, but most importantly, out of respect for myself.

I picked up the facetime from Anthony.

"You clean up nice," he complimented when the call went through.

"How the fuck did you even get my number you creep?" I joked.

He grinned mischievously, "I have my ways. Just calling to make sure you you're not chickening out of the party. We made a deal."

"What is this the hunger games?" I mocked him and he rolled his eyes.

"Ha-ha. Alright, I'll see you," he hung up the call.

And I was back to the staring contest.

My birthday wasn't the best, but tonight was supposed to make up for it.

But I still didn't know whether I felt like drowning or disappearing. Every time I thought of that post I wanted to crumble up into a ball and die of embarrassment. So I settled on the latter; I would drown in fun tonight.

I couldn't face Brooke. Even though Colton assured me she was fine with it, I was yet to tell him that I was literally in the same internship group as her and I knew how girls thought. She'd most likely never let this go.

Yup, Bacardi it is.

I took a large swig of the drink and when I pulled back, saw that I had gulped down a fourth of the bottle. Shit.

It wasn't that strong, right?

Even though Anthony offered to call me an Uber, I wanted to take the train. I wanted to sit, and observe everyone. Everyone had a life, everyone had something going on with them and my problems were so miniscule in the grand scheme of things.

After a red-line train, I was finally outside the penthouse building. When I entered, I was shocked at how pretty damn clean the establishment was. When Anthony gave me the card for his gig I assumed it would be some run down shithole, but instead, it felt more like one of those modern classy hipster grunge N.Y rooftop houses.

I rung the buzzer to the suite and it was a couple of seconds before someone answered. They barely acknowledged my existence and disappeared back into the dimly lit room. The night was alive. The air was so thick with lights and smoke I could have been underwater, if not for the roar of the crowd and music that thrummed straight through the bodies surrounding me and into my eardrums.

"You made it," a familiar voice hummed. Anthony!

"This is way more fancy than I had in mind," I commented.

"Mm, wait until you see the group of guys throwing up in the guest bathroom," he replied.

I grimaced and pushed through the crowd with him, feeling the buzz begin to kick in. Some The Weeknd song was blowing through the speakers.

"So where's your band?" I had to shout over the music.

"Setting up in the back. Make yourself comfortable, I'll be right out in a min!"

Fuck. He seriously had to leave me alone that fast? Wait no. I promised myself I would stop trying to be the victim and try to be more independent.

I headed towards the bathroom, feeling slightly exposed as the dress I was wearing was not something in my everyday attire.

I was wearing a black V-neck bodycon halter dress that didn't leave much to the imagination and some forces. Basic, I know. But as I looked into the mirror, I couldn't lie and say I didn't look hot as fuck.

Suddenly, the bathroom door clicked open and in walked some random girl with large hair. She had a striking resemblance to Selena and began gushing on and on about my dress.

Was this a normal occurrence? People complimenting you?

Then again, she was drunk. And so was I.

And so somehow, we hit it off and headed back out to the dance floor together.

Most of the people at this party were randos I didn't even know and some slightly familiar faces I would see at neighboring schools.

And to my luck; no Melbourne students.

Tonight, I just wanted to escape. Escape the identity I had formed for myself and all the repercussions id have from other people for being who I was. I didn't want to be 'Colton's Stalker' or 'Homewrecker Asha'...

I didn't want to be Asha Daniels anymore.

And so, for that night, I decided I wasn't.

The music playing thrummed louder and the drunk girl I met in the bathroom pulled me into a crowd of people and we began dancing sensually. The room began to disperse, making room for us in the middle of the crowd and I began kissing all over her and she, grinding her hips against me.

And for some reason, I allowed it.

Yep, this was definitely the alcohol.

Sweat flicked up into the air with the start of every dance move, as we came back together, and wet hair bounced back down with its completion. It would have been beautiful - perfect even - if not for one thing. A pair of eyes, boring into mine, as I grinded against the bodies around me.

Colton.

What the fuck? Colton? Why was he here?

My eyes shifted to the left. Brooke. Next to him. Oh, that's why.

Her hand was on his thigh, and she was rubbing circles on it while pressing sloppy kisses against his strong neck. But through the dim lights, the only thing that I could see was his eyes devouring mine. The air felt thick with some type of tension that a part of me wanted to run away from, and another wanted to relish in.

Everything was spinning. Everything was wrong. But I didn't care.

The alcohol was taking over, and I knew I was definitely not myself, but everything was too much of a haze.

I continued to dance, forgetting about what type of pain I was trying to induce or deflect.

I grinded my hips, and the outfit I was wearing was already hugging each and every one of my curves.

The bass moved through me and I saw Anthony from across the room chatting with (i think) his band members, and as we made eye contact, his eyebrows rose ever so slightly but he then quickly looked away.

My head was spinning. I couldn't deal with that right now.

So, I focused back on Brooke and Colton. Now, he was touching her. Touching her in her most intimate places and I could see the pure pleasure burning on her face as she took it upon herself to take one step further and positioned herself onto his knee.

I didn't want to see this. But I couldn't look away. So, it just made me dance more.

She began riding him, gripping onto Colton for dear life as she threw her head back in ecstasy.

I felt like an outsider looking in, but the dim lights could not blind me from the moment that happened next:

He grabbed her hair, pulling it back, and exposing her neck. Kissed it. Then kissed her. He was holding her. Tight. Violently. With hunger. The back of her head was positioned in a way that I could still see part of Colton's face.

And with his lips still attached to hers, I watched as his eyes did not leave mine.

What game was he playing at? Did he think I couldn't see him staring?

Then, she whispered something into his ear. Something I couldn't hear. She grabbed his arm, ushering him towards some backroom I had no business knowing about. When he stood, he towered over every single person in the room.

Fuck.

"Hey," a voice called from behind me. Anthony.

I had to shake the immense amount of arousal pooling at my core after seeing Colton like that. "Hey, band done already?"

"Yeah," he was holding a drink in his hand, "You missed the show. But I'll give you a pass, it was kind of terrible since I went on a little distracted."

"Oh no I'm so sorry to hear that, why?" I asked. Now I genuinely felt bad.

He scratched his neck and I noticed a blush creeping onto his cheeks. "N-no reason. Um so are you--Shit!"

It happened in a flash. His cup fell and his drink was on my dress and shoes.

"Holy shit I-I'm so sorry let me--" He began trying to clean the spilled drink off of me, but I stopped him.

"No, no it's fine, let me just-" I looked down at my favorite shoes (which were now ruined). But I didn't want him to feel bad. "I'll go get you another drink."

"No, please-"

"Anthony. Just tell me where the fuck the drinks are at," I demanded a little more frustrated. Drunk me.

"Um, the cooler's in the closet across from the bathroom on your left," he told me.

I nodded, thanked him with a tight smile, and ventured out to replace his drink.

In all honesty? I just needed to be alone. This night just seemed to be getting worse and worse. Not only was I drunk off my ass and could barely walk in a straight line, but the two people I wanted to escape from the most for just one night were here too.

I mean, seriously. Out of all the people at Melbourne, why him? And why her.

Bitter thoughts started to cloud my mind. Why did Brooke always get everything she always wanted? She didn't deserve him, but hell she didn't deserve this either. I had no right putting her down for something she couldn't control.

What the hell was wrong with me? I was starting to have debates about Brooke Mckailey in my own head.

I think I might've had one too many shots.

Finally, I reached the closet door and took a deep breath, bracing myself for whatever gross couples I'd have to see making out.

But as I opened the door, nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to lay my eyes on.

The first thing I saw was Colton's rapacious eyes. Staring right back at me.

Then, my eyes dropped down to see Brooke on her knees, her mouth full, wrapped around Colton's cock.

His hands buried themselves in her hair as mascara ran down her face.

And as he did this, his eyes did not. leave. mine.

His hungry gaze began to trail down my body. And instinctively, his hand controlling Brooke's head began to move faster. Pumping her up and down his shaft, as his eyes stayed glued to the dress tightly hugging my curves.

I didn't like that I liked the way he was taking me in but then I watched, as something came over him. His face contorted into one of painful pleasure and his body shook and convulsed as his orgasm washed over him.

It was like the sight of me was what threw him over the edge.

"Fuck," he grunted. It didn't even sound like Colton. He sounded like an entirely different person. An entirely different person my body was currently on fire for.

Cum was everywhere. Brooke's face, the wall.

There was silence. Tension. All of it. Even though there was music blaring in the background, it was like the deafening sound of the tension drowned everything out.

"I-" I tried to say something. Anything.

It was like Brooke wasn't even there.

I watched as his torso rose up and down, heaving lowly. Sweat pinned his hair to his forehead and he finally broke eye contact to look at Brooke. Then back at me.

I don't know if I was hallucinating, but I swear I saw the slightest hint of a smirk dancing on his lips.

"Sorry," he said to me. But he didn't mean it.

It was like he wanted me to see him like this. Strung out, with an insatiable amount of lust radiating off of him. Even though he had just finished, he didn't look anywhere near satisfied.

"Asha?" Brooke wondered, and my attention snapped back down to her. "ASHA WHAT THE FUCK?!" she screamed, slamming the door shut.

I was stunned.

He wanted me to see him in that intimate position so that our dynamic would shift.

And something had shifted, alright. I had never seen this side of him, and now that I had, there was no turning back.

A part of me wish I could forget that image of him, but another part knew that I would never ever be able to.

I didn't know how I would look him in the eye ever again.