She doesn't know how she ends up seated beside a red-cheeked Lula, who giggles at everything and chatters away to the lovesick Alcott boy next to her, cradling her bottle between her fingers, and Audrey, who is sobbing into her shoulder, because her favourite contestant was voted off The Bachelorette.

"He – he was just so hot, Madison!" Audrey wails into her shoulder.

Madison refrains from making a face and gingerly pats her hand against Audrey's shoulder, giving a sigh. "There, there," she says dryly.

Audrey's tears are soaking her silk dress and Madison tries to gently disentangle herself so that the silk is not ruined. But Audrey's fingers are like clamps and the bitch won't let go.

She's crying, "'m so glad you understand me, Madison. Kyle never does."

"What?"

Madison turns her head, momentarily distracted. But in the same moment, Lula shouts out for a game of Truth or Dare and she's met with raucous applause, as though she's won a Pulitzer Prize. Madison's brows are furrowed still, towards Audrey.

Audrey is gushing drunkenly, "Oh my God, Madison, I love Truth or Dare –,"

"What did you say about Kyle?"

Audrey's eyes brighten. "Kyle loves Truth or Dare, too!" she says excitedly. She leans in close to Madison, as though readying herself to spill a juicy secret, and her voice even attempts to become a dramatic whisper. "Kyle and I met during Truth or Dare. We got together, in Seven Minutes of Heaven."

She gives a laugh as if it's the funniest thing she's ever said. Madison is not amused.

"How romantic," she says, her lip curling.

Lula is calling for quiet as she spins the bottle and it lands on the Alcott boy beside her. "Truth," she asks, her words slurring slightly, "or dare?"

The Alcott boy leans forward, his eyes bright and contemplative. After a pathetic amount of attempts at stringing together a few coherent attempts that makes Madison almost roll her eyes, he announces victoriously, "Druth!"

There is a crow of triumph and victorious shouts that Lula attempts to die down. Madison lets out a cool hiss between her teeth as Audrey lolls against her shoulder. Lula is excited, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed.

"Okay," she says, and begins to think. "What's – what's your dream girl like?"

"You," the Alcott boy says too quickly that he doesn't realise what he's said until after he's said it.

His cheeks flood an embarrassed, heavy red, as Madison narrows her gaze towards him. Everyone in the crowd laugh drunkenly and jeers at him hopelessly, the rumour mill already chugging. Lula is looking pleased at the compliment, flicking her hair casually and hitting someone in the face accidentally.

The Alcott boy is embarrassed but he's so drunk he can't remember why. He puts up a hand and says, "This competition is rigged."

Beside her, Audrey is moaning slightly. She gives a slight hiccup, her eyes bright as she lifts her head towards Madison, and suddenly, Madison is struck with a strange sense that Audrey wants to tell her something. Audrey's lips part, something curious flickering within the lights of her eyes, something helpless and yearning.

"...Audrey?" Madison murmurs, her brows furrowed lightly.

"Madison," Audrey begins in a mumble, before her face pales. "I – I feel sick."

She turns her head, too quickly for Madison to stop her, and promptly throws up all over the lace decorated table.

People leap back, pulling faces of disgust and hissing out their annoyed grievances, wrinkling their noses in revulsion towards Audrey. But when Madison turns her dark scowl towards them, they fade away into the distance quickly, unwilling to be her next target. Madison reaches for Audrey's hair, pulling her tight curls up, and uses her other hand to rub at Audrey's back. Audrey lets out a strange, startled cry, her cheeks wet.

As she lifts Audrey to her feet, Madison turns to the Alcott boy, who is listening intently to Lula as she chatters away again, the game of Truth or Dare apparently forgotten. "Alcott boy," Madison calls and he lifts his head, blinking in confusion. "When I come back, I want to see Lula still here, by your side, do you understand me?"

The Alcott boy nods as Lula giggles. Madison straightens, satisfied.

A shadow flickers over them and Madison turns her head, her jaw taut.

"Is she okay?" the Carroway boy is asking, his brows furrowed in worry towards Audrey.

Madison sizes him up and promptly orders, "Hold her."

She pushes Audrey onto the Carroway boy, who almost stumbles under Audrey's weight but his arms reach up to steady them both quickly. Audrey is beginning to cry and the sound makes Madison hurry faster. She hurries across the ballroom floor, spotting Elliot first, amidst the poker tables.

"...I'm clairvoyant, folks. That's all there is to it. Nothing else," Elliot is saying, his voice slurred and his movements sluggish as he smiles drunkenly towards his opponents. His fingers are clutching at his cards, playing with the pile of money that he's managed to win for himself. "I'm just too good for you pesky mortals."

Madison tugs at Elliot and he lifts his head, blinking slowly up at her. "Code Yellow," Madison tells Elliot.

Elliot blinks.

Shedding the illusion of being drunk just as a snake would shed its skin, he promptly sobers up and straightens his shoulders, the dazed look drifting out of his gaze. Elliot reaches forward to wink at his stunned opponents and throws down his cards with a smirk. He nods to Madison, his jaw setting in determination, lifting himself from his chair.

Satisfied, Madison leaves Elliot to get the essentials and all the others before she hurries back to help Audrey. The girl is leaning heavily against the Carroway boy, who seems to have taken all of her weight. He looks grateful when she comes back and Madison reaches out automatically to drag down Audrey's top quickly, smoothing it out. She frowns briefly when Audrey winces and moans against her, but takes Audrey's weight from the Carroway boy, making the girl lean against her. As Elliot arrives, Madison lifts her head to the Carroway boy.

"Is she going to be okay?"

Madison nods. "You're no longer needed."

The Carroway boy arches an eyebrow. "A 'thank you' would be..."

His voice fades in the background as Madison turns her back on him. When Elliot arrives to them, he arrives armed with tablets and water and Maria, who helps to clear a quick path around the back to help get Audrey to bed in Madison's hotel room.

*

The party begins to slow down at around two o'clock in the morning.

People are beginning to leave in a dizzied haze of pleasure and drinks, their smiles sleepy and dreamy and fulfilled, as only a Sutton party can leave them. The waiters and the servants are hurrying around the hotel ballroom, Becky barking out orders strictly to clean things up. Though all of her friends have already fallen asleep in her hotel room, forgoing their own, Madison stays standing, valiantly, her heels killing her poor feet.

She waits until the last of her guests leave, waving them out with a soft, pleasant smile, and expressing her heartfelt hopes that they get home safely. Madison lets out a tired breath, filled with an exhaustion that seeps to the bone. She's hungry but she did eat the salad her mother had approved for her, though it only seemed to make her hungrier.

Instead of letting herself get tempted by the food left over, Madison leaves the last of her staff and an equally exhausted Becky.

But when she puts her head in her door, she falters.

Audrey is snoring on her bed, her legs on Lula, whose head is dangerously teetering on the edge of her bed, still clutching the bottle of wine to herself. Elliot is sleeping in her bathtub and Maria is curled up on the Persian rug of the hotel room. Madison lets out a small sigh. She adjusts Audrey's head, puts a blanket over Maria, and gently tugs the bottle of wine from Lula's fingers to take a large drink.

Exhaustion seems to seep away from her, as the drink rushes through her veins. Madison is feeling so restless and so tired and so hot that she can think of nothing else to do other than to slip off her heels and quietly make her way up the stairs, to the roof.

She pushes the door open gently and is greeted by a rush of cool night air, breathlessly blowing kisses on her heated cheeks. The night is a beauteous thing to behold. Dark blue spreads over the skies, with gentle wafts of grey-white clouds floating past, silvered stars gleaming up above. Madison moves slowly, drinking from the bottle.

Her bare feet pad gently against the gritty gravel of the rooftop, not uncomfortably. When she gets almost to the edge, she lets out a tired breath and sinks down to the ground, without thinking. Her green skirts billow out around her like the petals of an unfurling flower and Madison drinks deeply again, tilting her head up to stare at the stars.

When Madison hears the cleared throat, she stiffens, turning around sharply. But it is only the Hawthorne boy and Madison pauses to roll her eyes at him, ignoring the quiet startle of her heart. Nick blinks at her, looking as sleepily drunk as her, and he shouldn't look this handsome, framed against the dark blue of the night, especially when he didn't even adhere to the theme. He's in a Hugo Boss suit (Madison can recognise a designer when she sees one. It's a gift) that fits him perfectly, making him look sharp, though he's rolled up the sleeves carelessly, bearing his large, muscled arms.

It's an image that makes her think of how she'd seen him without his shirt, playing football that day with Maria. Madison's cheeks flush and she turns her head away quickly.

"What are you still doing here?" she mumbles.

"Your valet lost my bike. Plus the food's too good to pass up," Nick says, and sure enough, he actually has a plate of food with him.

Madison can smell the delicious canapés, the crabs served with tangy lemon, the grilled shrimp, and it is so intoxicating that her stomach grumbles. God, she's hungry.

"Didn't you eat?" Nick asks but before she can answer, he pushes the plate towards her.

He's as drunk as she is, Madison realises faintly.

That's probably why they haven't gone for each other's throats yet. She's so tempted to eat but Mother's stern face floats in the dredges of her mind and Madison shakes her head, telling him that she did, in fact, eat. It's a blatant lie but they're both too tired and too drunk to refute it.

Nick shrugs and, gesturing to the wine bottle trapped within her fingers, he says, "Can I have some of that, then?"

Madison leans forward to pass it to him and her bare fingers accidentally brush against his own, sending a jolt of feverish sparks up her arm. They leap back together, staring at each other in confusion, before Nick shakes his head and takes a swig. Madison's heartbeat is spiking higher and she doesn't like it.

She's been thinking about what he did for her, for the whole night, and try as she might, she still hasn't been able to fathom a reason as to why. Madison wonders what he wants from her and she gives a sigh.

"Thanks," she tells him slowly, reluctantly, not liking to bare herself open.

"For?"

"Lying to my mother about the canapés."

For a moment, there's a lingering silence between them and then Nick breaks it by chewing like a cow. "'s fine," he says. "Fair's fair, after all. Canapés for Marie Antoinette is a good deal." He clears his throat. "Is – is Audrey alright, then? I saw you taking her upstairs."

Madison blinks. She didn't realise that Nick had noticed. She and her friends were usually so good at hiding each other's drunken antics. "Yeah," she says uncertainly. "Yes. She's – she's sleeping."

"It's weird."

"What is?"

"Seeing you worried for your friend."

"What's weird about that?"

"Didn't think you were actually human."

Madison rolls her eyes, her voice dripping with the most amount of derision she can summon up in her drunken state. "Because I'm a she-devil, right?"

"No she-devil looks like that," Nick says

"Look like what?"

"Beautiful," Nick confesses, and she almost splutters.

Wow, he must really be drunk, Madison thinks. When she looks at Nick, his face blurs a little and it looks as though he's staring at her, like some lovelorn Romeo, his eyes darkening and hooded. Something about the way he stares at her, the word "beautiful" slipping so easily from his lips, makes a rush of heat surge through her. It is not the first time Madison has been called beautiful, nor will it ever be the last, but for some strange reason, coming from Nick's lips, she feels as though it means something.

But Madison is thinking too hard and it's making her head hurt.

"Well," she says, and it's rather strange how alcohol loosens your tongue to spill all the secrets you have flitting in your cage of a mind. "You looked like less of an ape today."

Nick laughs, but he looks utterly delighted as though it is the best compliment he has ever received. For her part, Madison is frowning to herself. She's not getting across her point properly, she thinks and purses her lips.

"Handsome," she corrects, her voice slurred. "Very nice but you didn't do the theme."

"Theme was stupid."

"Theme was not stupid. You're stupid."

They both burst into laughter together and Nick's eyes are brighter than the stars. In the dark blue haze of the cloudy night, Nick blinks at her. Madison's gaze falls to Nick's lips and inexplicably, sleepily, she wonders what he tastes like.

What is wrong with this night?

Nick lets out a breath and leans back against the stone ground, staring up at the sky. "You know Mitchell?"

"No."

Madison rests her head down as well, feeling dizzy. The ground is cold against her feverish skin and she feels that if she reaches far enough, she can touch the stars.

"I made an attack towards him."

"Did you beat him to a pulp, too?"

Her voice is beautifully derisive and Nick snorts.

"No," he says. "That was ages ago. This is recent."

Madison listens intently as he explains the black feathers, how Mitchell had attacked his mother's company, how his mother had her suspicions about Mr Carroway. Nick lets out a tired breath but there's something like relief within his face, too, as though he's happy he got it off of his chest, even if it's just to her. In the haze of her mind, Madison thinks she might be rather flattered.

"Will's good," Nick tells her. "But God. His dad's a dick."

Madison laughs. "You should be careful with him. He's smart," she says to him. "When you went all Mr Robot on him, did you at least make sure to wipe your prints?"

The look on Nick's face tells her that he didn't. Madison rolls her eyes.

"Hey," he tells her, "we can't all laze around in our expensive beds and eat chocolates and watch Mr Robot –,"

"Pass me your phone," she tells him.

Nick does so and Madison taps at the bright screen, squinting a little. She adjusts the internet message, her lips curving upwards with some admiration. "It's not bad. You should be able to take Mr Carroway down easy with this," she tells him, admiringly. "It's impressive."

A proud beam spreads across his face as Nick squints at his phone. "What'd you do?"

"Saved you from a potentially very bad lawsuit. You're welcome."

"Thanks." He sounds admiring and Madison feels herself flushing with pleasure. She's not used to being praised. Nick lets out a breath. "You can't do anything against Mitchell, though. Guy's a nutjob. I had to do something back against him, obviously. Otherwise it'll never stop."

"Well, now, it'll never stop," Madison tells him, staring up at the skies. "You drew second blood, you idiot. What makes you think goading a certified nutcase is going to end up well for you?" She wrinkles her nose and shoots him a smug smile. "You should have been smart. Like me."

"You're not smart. You hate Marie Antoinette."

"I said it once, I'll say it again," Madison says, her lip curling at the very mention of History. "Bitch should have known better."

"You got a point," Nick agrees, his voice musing. He peers at her, curious. "What did you do that's so smart, then?"

"I saved Lula," Madison announces triumphantly, and she explains about how she'd swiftly created a false relative to give some much-needed relief to the Worthington's money problems. "Because I'm a good friend, unlike you."

Nick only snorts. "Yeah, right."

Madison glowers at him. "I am."

"No, you're not. You're an idiot," Nick tells her as Madison bristles, "for paying for Lula like she's some charity case."

"She's not a charity case –,"

"How would you know?" Nick rebuffs. "Did you ask?"

Madison bristles. "What about you? Did you ask Will before ruining his father's life?"

They both glare at each other before huffing and turning away from each other, unable to win. Madison doesn't like the sense of discomfort swirling within the pits of her stomach, making her feel as though perhaps, for the first time, she might have been wrong.

She lets out a breath, her brows furrowed together, when Nick breaks the lingering silence between them.

"Aren't you tired?" he asks. "I saw you running around like crazy the whole night."

Madison's brows furrow a little but he seems actually concerned. "Yeah," she says, her voice soft, before she knows what she's saying. She confesses, "I'm exhausted."

Instead of mentioning her quiet slip, Nick passes her the bottle of wine and Madison gratefully drinks it. She leans her head back and tilts her face towards the gleaming stars with something like wonder stretching out across her mind. Nick lets out a breath.

"What do you think stars feel like?" he mumbles, staring.

"Hot balls of flaming gas."

Nick snorts. "You'd know all about heat."

"Because I'm from Hell?"

"Yeah..." Nick squints at her. "Don't make me feel bad for calling you a she-devil."

"You should feel bad," Madison says, before she lets out a huff. "Never been to Hell. Never been anywhere."

"Anywhere?" Nick repeats, surprised. Madison rolls her eyes. "But you're rich as –,"

"Mother doesn't like me going out of Redwood," she blurts out, before she can stop herself.

She's used to people getting surprised when they find out that she doesn't go anywhere, but she doesn't tell them that it's because of Mother. Madison wants to rage at herself but she's too drunk to care right now. God, she thinks.

Sober Madison is going to kill Drunk Madison.

But all Nick says is, "Huh." He pauses, before turning his face to look at her. "Where would you go, if you could?"

Madison tilts her head towards him. "Everywhere," she confesses. "What about you?"

Nick shrugs. "Anywhere."

"You wouldn't go home?"

Her voice is soft and wondering and Madison means the city that Maria told her that he's apparently always trying to get back to. But Nick is looking careless in a way that makes Madison know that he deeply cares.

"Where is home supposed to be?" he asks her.

"Your mother? Your dad?" Madison shrugs. How is she supposed to know?