𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 [𝟏𝟖+] ✔

45

Flashback - 4 years ago

It's my birthday.

I have no idea where Ainsley is. She told me she was going to call her girlfriend, and hasn't been back since. I send her a text, asking where the hell she is before I drink her cocktail.

We came to the club around three hours ago, and I've spent most of that time at the bar, downing shots with randomers, and flapping my arms around on my own in the middle of the dancefloor. My dress is short, with straps that sit just off of my shoulders. Ainsley refused to let me go out wearing jeans and a top, so now my behind is close to exposure and my hooha has a constant draft.

The music is pounding through every single nerve in my body as I brush my fingers into my hair, throwing my head back between the crowd. My limbs move to the beat like I'm floating, a permanent smile plastered on my face. My birthday badge earns me more free drinks, a song request that the DJ has never heard of, and being sandwiched between a group of friends while they sing to me.

This is great.

I mean, I didn't want to be belligerent drunk tonight. Ainsley told me to loosen up, to forget the argument Robbie and I had this morning about me going out. As soon as she stated that I never have fun anymore, I had been determined to prove her wrong. So here I am having a blast, my hips moving, my head lolling its way through a Martin Garrix song.

In the Name of Love, maybe?

Someone comes up behind me, resting their unwanted hands on my waist, pressing themselves to me. I turn, backing up as if I'm still dancing, but I'm trying to put as much distance between us as I can. I'm drunk, not stupid.

Making my way towards the empty booth, annoyed that my friend has vanished, I sit down, pulling my phone out of my clutch.

Robbie: Three missed calls.

Robbie: Why aren't you answering?

Robbie: I called Ainsley and her girlfriend said she was asleep, so why are you still out?

Robbie: Go home.

Me: No.

His reply comes half a second later.

Robbie: What the fuck, Danielle? You need to grow up and stop acting so irresponsible. You don't party or enjoy drinking, so what are you even doing?

He refused to come out with us, wanting to stay in his flat and play video games. It's the first year he's forgotten my birthday, and hasn't even mentioned it to me. He surely saw the multiple posts on social media, but nope, nothing. Instead, I was told to pick up food on my way to his, and I lost my marbles, telling him to get lost.

Typing out another message, I misspell then delete, giving up on the third attempt. I give my screen the middle finger, then open a message from my mum, telling me that my dad is home and not to be too drunk.

She knows I'm here, even though I'm not allowed to be out without any of the security team. She does everything she can for me to have some kind of normality. And I love her even more for it.

Eric is off duty tonight, Frank is with my dad, and the others were easy to slip past. I had planned on sneaking back home, but if Dad is back, then that means so are half the guards.

Awesome.

I'll figure it out.

Rolling my eyes at my luck, I pick up the cocktail Ainsley left, downing it until it's empty. I know I should feel the intense burn of the alcohol, taste the tangy orange, or at least the Vodka, but I think I'm too numb. I can't even feel the little slice on the pad of my thumb.