My thoughts drifted in and out like the tide. I drank and for that split second, the waters of anxiety ebbed away into a peaceful lull. But when I stopped to think, waves came crashing down again.

I held the bottle up to the light from the heater and squinted. Fuck, there was only a dribble left. Reaching down to feel the floor beneath my feet, I searched for my second bottle. It was just as empty. That didn't bode well.

My fingers, numbed by the wintry wind, slipped from the bottleneck and it came clattering to the ground. The bottle rolled away from me but luckily didn't break. That was my cue to go inside. I pulled the blanket tight around my shoulders and zig-zagged across the lawn, unseen by the small crowd in the kitchen.

With a slight detour to the fridge, I poured myself a large cup of water filled with ice cubes. The liquid sloshed over the rim as I spun on my heels.

A high pitch squeal broke through the chatter surrounding me and I flinched. My glass slid between my fingers. Unlike the bottle, it came crashing to the ground and shattered across the tiled floor. The voices stilled, and all heads turned in my direction. I looked towards Liv as she rushed into the room, hands raised.

Shame spiralled through me, but her expression offered nothing but reassurance. She glared at the people snickering behind me and moved forward, her features softening each time she met my gaze.

"No one move. I've got it." She tiptoed over to the cupboard under the sink and pulled out a dustpan and brush.

Frozen amongst thousands of glittering shards, I closed my eyes, concentrating on my heart as it accelerated faster. I didn't feel great. The sound of whooshing took over my thoughts and blocked out the group in the corner. Don't allow them to get to you. They're as drunk as you.

"You alright, Trixie girl? Where you been?" Liv asked, grabbing hold of my upper arm for stability as she stood back up after cleaning my mess.

She faded in and out of focus. Her eyes were glossed over, her makeup smeared across her face, and loose hair escaped her pigtails.

"Just there," I replied, pointing to the arbour in the garden and covered my mouth with my hand as a painful, acidic burp bubbled from my chest and up my throat. "Off to bed." A dull ache sparked on the left side of my head. The pain crept across my skull until it's hooks dug deep inside my brain. I winced to fight it off, but it was pointless. I wanted Matt to hurry back and make me feel better.

"Nonsense. Matt asked me to take care of you." She draped her arm over my shoulders and dragged me towards the stairs. "I have something you can take to perk you up. Come on."

My actions didn't match the words stumbling out of my mouth as I followed her up the stairs. "I don't think that's a good idea."

She simply laughed as I trailed behind, bracing myself against the wall, hoping I didn't fall back. Something didn't seem right, and despite how cold I had been moments ago, sweat collected around my hairline. My stomach spasmed, and I had to halt my steps to catch my breath.

Liv, unfazed, kept going until she reached one of the bedrooms that didn't belong to Matt. She rummaged inside the bedside table and pulled out a blister pack from a generic pill packet. I couldn't read the writing on the side of the box.

"Here, take a couple of these to perk you up." She waved the sleeve of pills under my nose.

"Oh, I don't know. What is it?"

"Just some paracetamol with added caffeine. You'll be fine." She crouched down to a mini-fridge under a desk and threw a bottle of water next to me on the bed. "Something to wash them down. You look peaky."

"Yeah, I feel rough. My head's pounding." I broke the foil, placed two pills in the palm of my hand and moved them around with my thumb. Bile rose in my oesophagus and I couldn't bring myself to place them in my mouth. The thought alone felt like too much hard work.

"They won't bite. Just take em and lie back for a sec. I'll stay with ya."

Reluctantly, I stuck them on my tongue and washed them back. Liv removed my shoes and swung my legs until I was lying on the bed. The coolness of the bedspread did nothing to alleviate the heat slowly creeping along my skin. I tried to think of anything else besides the churning in my stomach and the agony in my head.

Liv's fingers brushed my hair back, away from my face, and she hummed a soft melody. "How d'you get drunk so fast?" she whisper-laughed and went back to her symphony of murmurs.

My eyes grew heavy and before I knew it, I was hovering between sleep and being awake.

The creaking of the bedroom door didn't make me stir, nor the heavy set of footsteps thumping as they approached the bed. I vaguely noticed when Liv stilled her hand and the mattress jostled when she stood.

"What are you two doing here?" Liv said in a hushed yell. "Seriously! That couldn't wait for a second?" A drawer opened and slammed quickly afterwards. "No! do it later!"

"When have you ever said no? I thought that's why you came up. Started already?" Freddie asked.

"No, she didn't feel well. Just gave her some headache tablets. Look, I'll have some but don't want her seeing me do it."

What were they talking about? I wanted to roll on my side and take a peek, but the rollercoaster in my gut wouldn't permit it. If I moved even a fraction, I was sure to be sick.

A second voice chimed in, one that had made my skin crawl earlier. "Ah knew you wouldn't pass it up. She's asleep. Do it quick and you'll be fine," Dan added.

The drawer opened again and the sound of crinkling plastic replaced their voices. Some items on the desk were moved around, the chair pushed away, the legs scraping on the floor.

"Hurry up, Fred."

"Piss off, mate. Going as fast as I can."

"If Matt catches you, you're dead."

"He doesn't scare me."

Their laughter blended together as my head spun. Extra saliva coated the inside of my mouth and tongue. My insides gurgled and lurched. I couldn't hold back any longer. Sweat and an onset of cool air mixed down my back as I forced myself up.

"Gonna be sick."

Liv pushed Dan out of the way and deposited a small bin in front of me just in time for the bitter wine to burn its way out of my mouth. My fingers gripped the plastic container as I heaved and heaved until I had nothing else to give. My neck was hot, but the rest of me shook as my muscles spasmed with each release. Liv rubbed my back and offered the bottle of water from earlier that I gladly took.

I drank careful sips, my hands shaking, and cast my eyes to the boys. Both of them wore looks of disgust at the sight of me emptying my guts in the room. Before any of us uttered a word, the door swung open and a worried Matt filled the doorway. I perked up and needed to be close to him until I saw the irritation simmering in his gaze.

"What the fuck is going on here?" He took a step towards the desk and shoved Freddie in the chest. "What the fuck did I tell you both? Don't bring that shit in this house. I'll fucking kill you if you gave her any."

I looked past them. With my head in the bin, I hadn't seen the white powder lined up on the black surface. The pungent, sour smell of vomit wafted up from my lap, my stomach cramped and released once more. I couldn't process what was going on as tears streamed down my face from the effort.

"You okay, baby?" Matt was by my side in seconds, brushing my hair out of my face. "What the fuck have you done to her?" His whole demeanour changed as he addressed the others, his voice laced with disgust. I should have recoiled, retreated into myself, but I caught myself moving closer despite the pain in my gut.

"Chill out. She just can't handle her booze."

"Chill out? Chill out?" Matt flew into Dan's face, twisting his t-shirt in his fist. "Want to say that again?" Hostility radiated off every inch of his skin. The veins on his arms popped as he pushed Dan's chest, pinning him against the open door.

Freddie jumped to his friend's defence and attempted to prise Matt's hands-off Dan. "Let go of him, man."

"Matt, relax. She didn't have any," Liv chimed in, her voice surprisingly calm.

I wanted to scream for them to stop, for everyone to get out of a room that wasn't my own, but my words were silent. I didn't recognise the man standing in the doorway. He was angry, he was hurt, he was broken.

"I warned you, Liv. You knew."

"I know. I promise. Trixie's just drunk. She didn't take anything."

He punched the wood beside Dan's head and stormed out of the room, only to return moments later with Zaire by his side. "Take her to my room. She shouldn't be here. You three, don't fucking move."

Zaire squeezed Matt's shoulder as he walked past him and helped me to my feet. I didn't want to leave him in that room alone with whatever pain he was carrying. I tried to convey that with my eyes as my voice was lost inside my head, but Matt wouldn't look my way. Nothing made sense. I had done this to myself, but Matt was taking it out on them.

"Come on you. Let's get you cleaned up," Zaire said as he ushered me out.

The door closed behind us, leaving any explanation locked in with them, but my slow and shaky pace allowed one secret to slip through.

"Matt, stop. She's not Bailey."

Who wasn't Bailey? Who was Bailey? The rest of their conversation died as we stepped away. Zaire hugged me closer, and I knew then he had heard the same sentence. By his reaction, I wouldn't like what they were talking about.

Matt's room seemed cold and lonely as I perched on the edge of his bed, the tulle of my skirt scratching against my hips. I had the sudden urge to rip each piece of fabric off my skin and to rub that skin raw; to rub the dirt out of every clogged pore.

"Done with that?" Zaire screwed his face up as he held his hand out for the bin I clutched tight to my chest.

"Mmm," I barely managed to let out and reluctantly watched him lift the container filled with my mixture of wine and bile.

"You owe me for this. You need a shower too. You stink. But I'm not doing that. Love ya and all, but I'm not washing your stinky arse." He laughed, attempting to lighten the mood, but I couldn't break into smile. Nothing about tonight made me laugh. Everything had gone horribly wrong from the moment Matt left for work.

Zaire disappeared down the hall in search of the bathroom, rinsed the bin out and wandered back in with a wet flannel. "Sick down ya top."

I clenched the cloth to my front and absent-mindedly wiped the splatters of spittle that marked the lace. Droplets fell down my stomach and onto my lap.

"Who's Bailey?" I blurted out, my eyes trained on my feet as I attempted to bury my toes in the carpet. I didn't want to witness the pity on my best friend's face.

"Bea." Well, I didn't need to look at his face because that pity was weaved in that simple response. "You should wait to ask Matt."

"Please. Why was he so angry about me being there? What don't I know?"

Zaire sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ahh, he should have told you by now. She's-"

"My girlfriend," Matt answered for him and I sucked in a deep breath, hoping I had misheard. "Was my girlfriend. Dead girlfriend," he corrected, and all the air in the room vanished.

***