"There you are. I've been looking all over for you."
It was 12:30 AM, and Lydia stood transfixed on the rooftop, gazing out at the city's neon haze. She didn't answer Raya's question.
"Lydia? Babes?"
Raya reached out and touched Lydia's arm. She flinched at the contact, pulling away.
"Don't. Not here."
"Why not?" Raya asked, her voice tinged with hurt. "There’s no one else here."
"Someone might be watching."
"That's what you always say. Someone is watching. But no one ever is, Lydia. And even if they were, so what?"
"You know what? I'm just... not ready for that conversation yet."
"With others? Or with yourself?"
There was a long pause.
"That's not fair."
"No, I think it’s very fair. We’ve been together a year and a half, yet at every party, every 'study date,' you always introduce me as, 'your friend.' Just your friend. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"
"It's easy for you. You're out."
"It’s not, though! Sure, I’m out. But every day, I get hit with shit—told I’m too cute to be a lesbian, that dating and sleeping with guys could fix me, that I’ve disgraced my family. Sometimes they say I should just disappear. I laugh it off, force myself to smile, because until tonight, I thought you were in my corner. But you hide me like I’m nothing. Like I don’t matter."
Lydia remained silent, trembling.
"What're we even doing here, Lydia? I didn't even want to come to this stupid party."
"Then go."
"What?"
"You heard me. Fuck off if you don't want to be here. I mean it. Just fuck off."
"You know what... fine. We're done, Lydia."
Raya stormed off, leaving Lydia standing there. Once more, she was alone.
"Shit."
By the time Lydia returned from the roof, the party was in full swing. She scanned the crowd, hoping to find Raya.
But there was no luck—she was long gone.
Needing something strong to numb the sting of regret, Lydia headed straight for the drinks table.
Chad was grinding up against Natalia in the middle of the living room.
Isi and Matteo played beer bong to the cheers of onlookers.
In a dimly lit corner, Jake passionately kissed Frank, running his fingers through thick black curls, before turning to lock lips with Hannah. The throuple clung to one another, lost in the moment.
Lydia averted her eyes. She fixated on the vodka bottle, barely holding back tears. When she glanced at her own fingers, she saw black and gold smudges—proof of her unravelling.
"Great," she muttered bitterly. "Gonna spend the rest of the night looking like a fucking panda."
"You alright, Lyds? Looks like you've been crying." Alfie sidled over, bopping his head to the music.
"I'm fine." She took a sip from her cup, as though she were playing a drinking game: drink every time you lie that evening. Starting... now.
Alfie frowned. He'd known her long enough to recognize the signs of her distress: the quivering lip, the averted gaze, the defensive drinking.
"Do you want to try that again?" His words weren't unkind.
"Fuck you. I said I'm fine. Why does everyone think I’m not fine?" Lydia hiccupped, staggering into Dennis and Vanessa. "Watch where you're going," she snapped.
"Rude."
"Leave it, Dennis." Vanessa led him away, wiping spilled beer off his shirt with a napkin from her clutch.
"Prick," Lydia spat, her voice slicing through the music. Conversations dropped instantly. All eyes landed on her, the air tightening with judgment.
"Lydia." Alfie caught her arm. "Let's get you some water, yeah?"
"Get your mitts off me," she snarled, slurred words tipping into anger. "I can make my own way perfectly well without you. Hell, I don’t need anyone! And I especially don’t need fucking water."
"Yeah, well, your actions speak otherwise. Let’s just get you a drink that isn’t vodka." With effort, Alfie managed to extract the bottle from her grasp. She put up little resistance.
"God, you think you know it all, don’t you, Al? Al. Al. Al. You know your problem? Fucking teacher’s pet. You were the same in school, and you’re the same now. Why even throw these parties if you don’t want us to get wasted?"
He ignored her insult, motioning to Jazz. Jazz had been watching the entire exchange, arms folded, shaking his head, seething at her remarks.
"Jazz, babes, can you give me a hand?"
Jazz nodded, crossing over to steady Lydia. Alfie gave him an apologetic smile.
"Ha, bet that isn't the first time you asked him that, is it, Al? Do they know you're fucking the goalie?" She gestured to the busy room, laughing. "Or is it the other way round? You... fuck ... think... I... shit."
The room spun. A second later, everything went black.
Lydia woke in a dim bedroom, sprawled fully clothed atop the covers. She could just make out hushed voices—Alfie and Jazz—by the wardrobe.
"Why do you let her talk to you like that?"
"Babes, please, let's not do this now?"
"But why not? Tonight was meant to be a good night. Your night. And now we're dealing with... whatever the fuck that was. I just... You're not a doormat, and I don't like her treating you like one. I have a good mind to tell her that when she wakes up."
"No. Please, babes, no. She's been through enough tonight."
"And you haven't?... Fine. Only for you." Jazz huffed.
"You're an angel." Alfie kissed Jazz.
"What... happened?" Lydia asked groggily, her throat and mouth dry. The blanket was wet with spittle.
"Oh, good, Sleeping Beauty's awake," Jazz began.
"Jazz. Please?" Another kiss silenced him.
"Sorry." Jazz muttered, resting his head on Alfie's shoulder.
"What happened?" Lydia repeated, only slightly more coherent.
"You got drunk and passed out around one. Don’t quite remember the exact time..."
"I got that part," she said sharply, grabbing her head and wincing as she sat up too quickly.
"Don't be shitty, Lydia. We don't need a fucking pity party on top of everything else that happened."
"Everything ... else? Christ, did something happen?"
"Oh, something happened, alright."
"Jazz, babes, can you get us both some water, please?"
"Fine." Jazz left, giving Alfie's shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he passed.
"... What happened? Al? Please? Talk to me."
Alfie sighed.
"Cliff Notes or everything?"
"Ugh... Cliff Notes. My head is killing me."
"So, yeah, you passed out. Not before you bumped into Dennis and called him a prick, though. And then you outed Jazz to the whole party."
"I did what?!"
"Yeah. Not exactly your finest moment."
"He wasn't out already?"
"Not to everyone. And why does that matter if he was? What you did was not great." Alfie sat down beside her. "More than not great. It was a real dick move."
"Sorry."
"Not to me. To Jazz, when he comes back." Alfie sighed again, "So, can you remember anything from earlier?"
"Erm... kind of... I think. At least... Oh, God."
A knock sounded at the door.
"It's open. And we're decent."
Jazz re-entered carrying two glasses of water. He set one down on the nightstand and handed Alfie the other.
He wasn't alone. Behind him, standing in the doorway, was Raya. She looked furious.
"What’re you—?" Lydia began, lips trembling.
"Alfie called me." Raya looked down at her boots. "You look like shit."
"I feel it."
"Shall we give you two a moment?"
"Please, Alfie. And thank you again for... this."
"Of course. We'll leave you both to it. Jazz."
Alfie and Jazz stepped out of the cramped room. Raya moved to let them pass, closing the door behind them with a quiet click.
"Hi," Lydia said weakly.
Raya leaned against the wardrobe, picking at her fingernails, unable to meet her gaze. Even in the dim light, Lydia could see her hands were shaking.
"... Hi? Really? Is that all you can say to me? Fucking hi?"
"Raya..."
"Don’t ‘Raya’ me, you... selfish, self-centered... fuck." Raya pinched the bridge of her nose, body tense.
"... I'm sorry."
"For what? Me having to come back out here to care for your sorry ass at stupid o'clock in the morning? Or for telling me to fuck off when I am baring my soul to you?"
"Both." Lydia tried to stand. Her legs wobbled and buckled; she collapsed onto the bed with a soft thud. "Ow."
"Just stay sitting, Bambi." Raya sat and handed Lydia a glass of water. "Drink this. I am still so fucking mad at you."
"I know."
"And I will be mad at you for weeks."
"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
"You're damn right you are. Dummy."
"I think I fucked up with Jazz, too."
"Oh, I heard."
"Shit."
"He’s not angry anymore. Alfie talked him down with the promise of a Greggs vegan sausage roll."
"God, I am such an awful person."
Raya took her clammy hand. "No. Flawed, yes. But awful? No. I’ve met truly awful people; you’re not even comparable."
"But... I've treated you so badly. I'm... I'm so sorry."
"Look. Maybe I overreacted earlier tonight, too. If you aren't ready to come out, then I get it. Trust me. I get it. I've been there myself. But we need to talk about it because..."
"It's... It's not that. I'm ... I'm just scared." Lydia closed her eyes. "Look, I... I love you. But I'm scared people will use that love to hurt me. To hurt you. And while I worry about these hypotheticals, I'm the one hurting you. It's killing me. I don't want to hurt you. Really, I don't."
Raya nodded, her grip tightening on Lydia's hand.
"You could have told me. We could've worked something out, anything, to make it easier. To make you more comfortable. Together. That's all I've wanted."
Lydia swallowed hard. "I didn’t want to worry you."
"So instead you bottle it up, and we fight at a mate's birthday party?" Raya couldn't help but laugh a little.
"You're not going to let me hear the end of this, are you?"
"Probably not." Raya grew more serious. "I love you. And I want to support you. But I can only do that if you let me. And... I don’t think we’re in the same place in life."
"Please don't give up on me... on us. Please? I love you."
"... Is that truly what you want?"
"It is."
"And you're willing to try?"
"Yes. I want to make this work."
Raya sighed deeply.
"God... I must be mad."
"You... you mean...?"
"Yes. I love you, Lydia. God knows why... Dummy."
Lydia chuckled, leaned in, and kissed her.
"Hey, Jazz? Can I have a word with you?"
"... Sure." Jazz shrugged, munching a sausage roll in the kitchen.
Only the four of them remained in the flat. Everyone else had left hours ago, leaving behind the merry detritus of the party. Raya helped Alfie clean up, sweeping the crushed cups and cans that littered every surface into a black bin bag.
"I just wanted to say I’m really sorry. For what I said, for what I did. That was..."
"Cruel? Humiliating? A major dick move."
Lydia exhaled.
"... Yeah. All of the above."
Jazz shrugged again.
"It’s fine. After it happened at two high schools and my first year at uni, I’m used to it. Just not from my boyfriend’s best friend at his birthday party. That’s new."
"Is... Is it fine though?"
Jazz paused, furrowing his brow.
"No. I suppose it's not. Not yet, at least."
"Yeah. That tracks. I guess I have a lot to make up for then."
"Hmm... people wanting to make up for being a jerk to me. That I'm not used to." A smile played around his lips as he offered a hand. "But hey, I'm happy to roll with it. You're Alfie's best friend, and I can either keep resenting you indefinitely, making you feel awkward at social gatherings, or make a fresh start. Draw that metaphorical line in the sand. And as tempting as holding a grudge is... I know which one will work better for Alfie... and for me."
Lydia shook his hand, grip firm.
"Yeah. I’ll try and make it right."
"I haven't forgotten, you know."
"... I know. I’ll make it up to you. To all of you."
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