There were always before and after moments in someone's life. Minor before and after situations occured every day. Some, however, were far greater in terms of difference than others. I was currently going through one of those great ones. Those big changes that could alter your entire being. I'd already been through one: before I was afraid of touching and after. Now it was time for life changer number two.

Before, back when the stars were aligned and we were all just teenagers joking around a kitchen table drinking hot chocolate and doodling orange giraffes; and after, when the guys had the general idea as to what had happened to give me Haphephobia, and I was willingly walking into a bar alongside Parker to get drunk and forget my sorrows. Me, who never drank, beside Parker, who even hated having me watch him drink, never mind consume alcohol myself.

As we pulled over in front of the dingy place, I recognised it immediately. Andrew's Arcade, the pub that Parker had become so intoxicated in that the owner, Andy, had been forced to call me in order to pick him up at 3am. Half an arcade, half a bar, and incredibly grotty on both the inside and out, it wasn't exactly the most aesthetically pleasing building on the block. I didn't complain. I wasn't in the mood to be picky, and I knew Parker was relatively close with the owner who was also the bartender.

Flickering lights, peeling plaster walls and the stench of stale cigarettes; it greeted me just as warmly as I remembered. Nothing had changed. The front of the place was relatively empty of all people like it had been last time, only a few customers finding any enjoyment out of the various gaming and gambling machines. As we walked deeper inside, that's when I noticed the difference. On my last visit Andy had been in the process of trying to get rid of the last drunken stragglers before he closed up - now it was surprisingly busy. Music was blaring, there were tables covered in playing cards crowded by whooping drinkers, others clapping at the recent winner of a game of pool. The bar itself was unsurprisingly the most populated area, which was of course what Parker was making a beeline for. It was the reason we were here, after all. To drink.

I could feel my confidence dissolving the closer we got.

"Just stick by my side. I'll make sure nobody touches you, don't worry." Parker said, grasping my hand and leading the way.

And make sure he did, very vocally pushing people aside to create a path as though he were parting the Red Sea. Nobody looked very happy with that and so I tried my best to shrink behind him and hopefully become invisible. Alas, I was no Susan Storm, the Invisible Woman from the Fantastic Four, and so I probably shared more qualities with the Hunchback of Notre Dame as I attempted to curve to the shape of his back.

"Parker!" A vaguely familiar voice called happily just as a burly looking man to my right opened his mouth, ready to complain. I peeked out from behind Parker's back to see the middle aged, weather-beaten face of Andrew. "Long time no see. Guessing that's a good thing considering you always did look brooding and moody when you were here, but sure is good to see you. None of these folk are all that good at listening to my problems. Tend to pass out against the counter when I'm mid-story or whine that a bartender should listen to their problems," A few drinkers shouted their disagreement to which Andy continued in a slight joking manner with, "Selfish bastards."

"Good to see you, too." Parker replied, and it was odd how at ease he seemed in this claustrophobic atmosphere that was nowhere near as pleasant as my sheltered home which now felt like miles away. Maybe even continents. How odd that it was only a twenty minute drive down the road.

"Who's the little lady?" Andrew asked as he was unable to have a good look-see what with Parker's massive frame obscuring me from his line of sight.

I stepped out from behind him, if not a little awkwardly. "Flora. We've met before."

"Ah!" His eyes lit with recognition and he sent Parker a knowing smile. "Your girl. My, my, you're still in her good books after she had to pick you up at ridiculous o'clock? Got a keeper, I say." Then looking at me, he added, "Glad to see you've got more clothes on, though. Was a little worried letting you walk off all skin the last I saw you."

I felt Parker's entire body stiffen beside me, his hand that held mine clamping down with a vice-like grip. "What?"

Andrew let out a hearty chuckle and sent me a playful wink. "Territorial, this one. Calm down, my boy. I'm old enough to be a father to you both. The girl was in her pyjamas when she picked you up and you know the folk around here. Not the type to see girls in a skimpy vest and shorts without doing something about it."

Parker, clearly disliking the memory of putting me through the bother of his drunken self and having it brought up after telling me we were here to forget our stresses, immediately changed the subject. "Right, well, the usual for me, please."

"Coming right up," Andrew replied before looking expectantly at me. "And what can I get for you?"

"Chocolate milk, please." I replied distractedly and almost immediately recognised my mistake.

"Chocolate milk?" Andrew verified with a bemused smile.

"I- uh-" I stammered. "Yes. You know, that one alcohol which is sometimes referred to as chocolate milk on the street."

"I'm not sure I know that one alcohol."

"How unfortunate," I searched my brain for the name of a drink but was drawing blank. How did you make yourself belong in a place you hadn't really been in before and which revolved around an activity you never did? "In that case I'll have- vodka. Yes. I'll have vodka and lots of it, thank you please."

"No," Said Parker immediately, and he wore that face he did when he was trying to refrain from laughing at something I said which he found to be entertaining and/or adorable. At least that was what he said when I asked him once why he was screwing up his pretty features into such a constipated expression. He claimed it had nothing to do with pooping, however, and it was solely down to me. I found it hard to process that something apparently positive could bring about a look of trying to evacuate ones bowels. "No, she'll have one of your fancy cocktail things," And then, leaning over to add in a few octaves lower, said, "Nothing too strong because she doesn't really drink. Just make it pretty to look at. Extra umbrellas and crap like that."

"I'm not deaf. I can hear you."

He kissed the crown of my head but didn't bother to reply.

People were trying to get closer to the bar again and Parker was having difficulty keeping my bubble of space, so he eventually settled on pushing me straight up against the counter and standing behind me, planting a hand on either side of my arms to cage me in. It worked surprisingly well and I had zero skin on skin contact with anyone save for Parker whose touches I was fast becoming used to - even enjoying.

"You okay?" He asked, lips brushing my ear ever so slightly, words struggling to be heard over the loud chatter of strangers.

"Hunky dory. I love being in amongst sweaty, intoxicated bodies. Especially those that grind upon each other," I gestured toward the R-rated PDA happening in a darker corner. "And that scent that you don't get anywhere else. That unique perfume of Au Du Cigar. Love it. Not going to lie, I'd class this place as a second home."

Parker laughed, his breath blowing against my neck and ruffling my hair a little. "I can't believe I brought you here. I'm an awful person."

"It's kind of exciting." I admitted as I looked up at him. It was difficult to do so what with him standing guard around me, and my view was mostly of chin. He tried his best to look down at me anyway and I caught the gleaming smile he sent my way.

"How so?" He asked.

I shrugged. "Kind of feels like I'm breaking the rules. I don't know. I just don't do this kind of thing."

"Really? I couldn't tell. Especially not when you ordered chocolate milk."

I elbowed him in the ribs.

***

"I would like a-another umbrella in my next drink because you, sir, aren't making these fanciful enough! Swirly plastic sticks for stirring? Pshhh, that's child's play." I slammed my hand against the counter. "Flora needs another round!"

Parker giggled - actually giggled - and almost regurgitated his mouthful of beer back into the glass. "You heard the woman!"

Another cocktail was planted down in front of me looking slightly different from the last. Andrew was on his break and so this bartender clearly made them different - or so I presumed. Rather than having a pink-red colouring like the previous, the contents of this large glass had a gradient of yellow and orange like a sunset. After my questioning glance at the drink, I looked up to find the blond bartender gesture toward a figure I couldn't make out at the other end of the bar with very dark hair the colour of a midnight sky. "I'll make you another if you'd like, but the bloke over there just bought you this one. Looks like you have an admirer."

I kicked Parker in the shin, excited, before sending a silly wave in the direction he'd pointed. He sank into the shadows almost instantly after I looked his way. "I have an admirer. Admirers donate free beverages. How neat-o is this? And look, no more plastic sticks with palm trees. This has extra umbrellas in it and a sparkler."

Parker looked as though he'd just bitten into an extremely sour lemon, but we brought it back to our table anyway and he focused his bloodshot eyes on the fiery stick for my benefit. We watched the bright sparks dance about like a dazzling, exploding star until it fizzled out into nothing. I took that as my cue to pick the charred piece of metal out and begin gulping the drink down through my new curly straw.

"What's in it, though? It better not have a high alcohol percentage." He slurred with a wary look.

"I think we sailed by keeping track of our alcohol intake many moons ago."

He downed the remnants of his half finished drink and returned the pint glass to our table with a thud. "Yes. Time for us to go. Drunk enough."

I pouted. "I'm having fun! What happened to forgetting stresses and getting mad with it? I'm not drunk yet."

"Honey," He was smiling that good old smile of his, even if it was slightly droopy from his inebriated state. Not the fake one that was plastered on solely to make the girls swoon as they walked past him in the school corridors, but the real one. It felt good to be one of the few that could see it, that could put it there. "Believe it or not, you were extremely tipsy after the first drink you had which was mostly made up of apple juice. I think you're ready for bed."

"No," I said stubbornly. "I'm ready to party," Then, turning to the rest of the bar from our little deserted corner I shouted, "WHO'S READY TO PARTY?"

Much to my disappointment, scarcely anybody responded to my cheer even though I had managed to drag my somewhat shaky body onto the wooden chair (Parker, sitting next to me, kept a firm hold of my shins whilst this happened as if he expected me to collapse without his completely unnecessary help) which creaked heavily under my weight. The few who staggered toward us included a balding biker, a wrinkled man that put me in mind of my hands after they'd been in the water too long, and a few other delightful, jeering characters who didn't look much older than myself.

"Is she stripping?" One asked his buddies.

"Show us your boobs!" Another called as he clapped his hands.

The third began to chant, "Take it off, take it off, take it off..."

"Take what off? My shirt?" I stared down at it in question, and Parker's hands gripped in furious warning on my shins. I scowled at him. Like I'd take my freshly laundered clothing off and dirty it on the floor of this filthy place. He should have known by now I hated the noises my washing machine made. "But it's my favourite and it'd get contaminated by all this bacteria. I was just going to shake about a bit to the music, not show my, ah, tiddley widdleys. Come on, friends, let's dance." I attempted to move my leg into a high kick but Parker was most irritatingly keeping my feet cemented to the chair in his killer grip. Robot arms just weren't the same without the leg movement.

The biker had lost interest and sauntered back to the bar, but the old man began to shake what his mother gave him in earnest. His bald little head was a blur as he moved with lightening speed around our table, thrashing his limbs about whilst simultaneous shaking his torso.

"I'm up for dancing if you are, babe." The one that had asked if I was stripping replied as he slithered closer. Parker somehow managed to head butt him before he moved much farther without breaking his hold on me.

"Nah," His friend disagreed, oblivious to his crumpled companion on the floor as he stared rather fixatedly at my chest. "I'd very much like to revisit the boob conversation." He even made to try and touch one, but again, Parker was quick at my defence by swatting his eager hands away.

I gestured to my two gal pals. "You can't have what you can't reach. That's why the cookies are on the top shelf."

"Alright," Snapped Parker, who suddenly seemed to have sobered up as he jumped to his feet. "Enough. We're leaving." And he didn't wait for protest this time, but hoisted me over his shoulder and carried me away. There was a distant shout of a goodbye that might have been from Andrew before the louder sounds came. Crashing.

"What's that noise?" I asked, feeling slightly delirious viewing the world from upside down.

I thumped softly against Parker's back as he came to a stop at the door and I tried to pull back the curtain of hair that swung in my face. It appeared my number one party going pensioner had collapsed and was now frothing at the mouth as he lay sprawled on the floor. Even though he was lying down, the old dude still seemed to be dancing.

"Is he having a fit?" Parker asked as flocks of drunken customers started to gather around him.

"Don't be silly," I said. "He's just living his best life."

The air outside was bitter cold, the glimpses of sky I caught as I shifted around Parker's back painted a burnt orange from the setting sun... Or was it rising?

I clutched at Parker's bomber jacket clad back to get my body upright as though that would somehow help reverse time. I couldn't get up anyway. Parker was holding me by gripping my lower thighs and my body was bent over one of his shoulders. It was an impossible feat.

"Time," I wheezed as I struggled. "Time's it? Time-" He hissed as I accidentally clawed the back of his neck. "Time? Sun set? Rise? Put me down. What are you doing?"

"Your mum."

"That's so Matthew," I gave up and once more I entered the upside down world as I flopped backward. Drinking and horrible angles weren't a good combination. Ten out of ten would not do again. "Ugh, I feel sick."

"Are you alright?" He came to an abrupt halt.

"No, you nugget, of course I'm not. I've had like f-fourteen hundred cocktails and you're hanging me upside down like a rag doll and won't let me walk on my own."

At long last I was set back on my feet, but it turned out to be difficult for a whole new reason. My body apparently couldn't walk in a straight line, or at all without heavily sagging into Parker's side. "Well I never," I mumbled.

Parker looked for my permission (funny how my opinion didn't matter when I was being hauled around like a sack of potatoes) before wrapping his arm around my back to hold me steady.

"Why were you attacking my back?" He asked after a while of silent walking seeing as he wasn't in a fit state to drive. It was unfortunate, really, because I wasn't in much of a fit state to walk. I seemed to be tumbling home rather than anything else.

"I was trying to get up."

"Your core muscle must be weak," He sniggered, playfully prodding at my abdomen to which I glowered at him. "Need to excerisise more."

"I've told you m-many times," There was a brief pause where I staggered off to bring up some of my stomach in a nearby flower bed and Parker held back my hair whilst muttering obscenities under his breath, before I continued as if nothing had happened with, "I like dodging deadlines, surfing the web, pushing my luck, jumping to conclusions and running from responsibilities. Plenty exercise if you ask me."

"Yeah, well-" His next words died on his lips as he squinted at something in the middle distance.

"What?"

"Your mum." He said.

"Right, the first time you said that I could look past it. This time it didn't even make sense," My brain felt muddled and I had to think over the conversation in my head again to clarify. "No, that definitely never made sense. You're losing your touch."

"And you're losing your sight, apparently. For real this time, it's your mum. Isn't that her?" He asked. Thankfully he was still holding me upright or the question would have sent me flying face first into the paving stones.

"What?" I exclaimed. "Where?"

Parker led us away from the centre of the street and into the doorway of a convenience store. A red sign tacked to the glass informed us that it was closed and wouldn't be open until 7am. A clock on the wall inside told us it was only two hours until then. Impossible.

The wall sheltered us from the harsh wind as well as keeping us concealed from any passers by. It was the prime spot to see without being seen. I was about to say as much but Parker put his forefinger to my lips to make sure I'd stay quiet before slyly pointing to a couple approaching us only a little way away. I couldn't believe my eyes.

If I'd been told my mother was out this late - or rather, this early - then I'd automatically think it was for work. Or taking current matters into consideration, she was out looking for me having had no idea where I was for I'd neither told Skylar to cover for me, nor had I texted my mother to tell her my whereabouts or that I'd be home late. Everything had gone so quickly that it was all just a blur. A blur like the bald man's head back at the bar as he speedily encircled my chair with award-worthy dance moves. Shamefully, I hadn't even given my mother a second thought. I felt little to no guilt compared to my sudden spike of confusion.

If there was one thing my mother loved, it was taking full advantage of the mornings she could sleep in rather than wake up at the crack of dawn to go to work. Depending on who could make it due to the short staffing at the bakery, most days my mother would have to be there between six and seven in the morning. Every so often she'd be able to have a sleep-in if they had a new employee joining their ranks. Indeed, this morning should have been one of those days. She'd told me how nice it would be to relax for a couple more hours in bed, especially after all of those late shifts she'd been taking.

"I'm almost positive that's her. Who's she with? Is that your dad? Did he come back?"

"No," I screwed my eyes closer together in the hopes of figuring out what I was actually seeing before me. "It's definitely her but it's not my dad. She'd have told me and I'd just know if it was him. We haven't heard from him in years."

"Is she drunk?" Parker laughed in a whisper.