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Assistant: Title: Hello Darlin’
        Author: Walkingdownadarkalley Walkingdownadarkalley 
        Chapter: 5/14 
        Summary: It all started when Powder put up a wedding invitation on the fridge.I asked her not to mention Caitlyn, yet she openly recalls old stories and memories in a fond manner, a way to tease me. Each one is a stab to the heart, but over the years the pain numbed down to a dull, muted ache.ORSeveral years after a break up and zero communication, Vi gets a sudden invite to her ex’s wedding in London. Powder encourages her to go, but Vi isn’t sure she’s ready to see Caitlyn after things ended badly.
        Contents: Chapter 5: Vi's jacket
    

    

        
          
          
            Vi and Caitlyn have a confusing conversation while surrounded by drag queens. Powder also briefly mentions Vi's alcohol poisoning in passing conversation. Just btw.
          
        

      
        
          This one is for all my London friends out there-- I am truly sorry(London slang incoming)(Cheat sheet in notes at the end)
            
            (See the end of the chapter for  more notes.)
            
      
  

  
  
    
    
  So, Powder and I weren’t really sure when we were supposed to leave. We had no clue what would be rude or not. Leave too early, and we look ungrateful. Leave too late, then we’ve overstayed our welcome. There were way too many rules in the rich world, especially surrounding dining etiquette. We shared several blank and silent stares with one another that communicated nothing more than
  
     “what the f@ck do we do?”
  
   over the course of dinner.
 
  Anytime Caitlyn spoke, it was in response to something her parents said. Or something Powder asked. Oddly, my sister didn’t have any reservations on appearing friendly and kind to my ex right in front of everyone, and I could tell based on her tone that she was surprised by Powder’s forward kindness herself. Yes, Powder teased me over the years by talking about Caitlyn any chance she got, but this was on another completely puzzling level. I cannot recall even the last time Powder 
  
    smiled 
  
  at her, or shared such light banter that didn’t immediately offend anyone. This made me more than suspicious. First, she begs to go to the wedding, now she’s acting like Caitlyn is a friend she hadn’t seen in ages and is just dying to catch up with. 
 
  
    Something was going on. 
  
 
  Powder had something planned in that big brain of hers, and during one of our quick looks at each other I scrunched my brow at her in distaste. Like always though, she disregarded me with astounding ease.
 
  Either way, the tension during the entire dinner was palpable. Having the source of all of my anxiety and depressive episodes sitting right next to me was doing something to my internal makeup. Butterflies bloomed in my stomach, but then were swallowed up by the stinking pit also occupying the space. Sweat covered my brow in nerves of sounding impressive, but also with the desire to run as fast as I could in 
  
    any 
  
  direction that led me away from here. I kept dropping food from my fork due to my trembling hands, my knee couldn’t stop bobbing up and down, I stuttered when I talked, I spaced out, leading to very awkward saves when I realized that someone had said something to me. 
 
  Despite it all though, I was handling it remarkably better than I thought I would. Perhaps it helped that Caitlyn hadn’t directly addressed me or even looked in my general direction once since I sat down. It was easier to dissociate and remove her from the situation when she wasn’t even acknowledging me. The depraved and insane part of my brain wondered if maybe she was feeling this nervous too, but I dismissed the idea. Her curtness and cold shoulder clearly pointed to the fact that she was still holding a grudge.
 
  If I had the brain space I would’ve been upset at that thought. 
 
  
    Because who was she to hold a grudge towards 
  
  
    me 
  
  
    after what she did?
  
 
  
    Sure 
  
  maybe I could’ve handled things better but that doesn’t change…
 
  It was only when the parents stood that I fully started to regain all my motor functions and spatial awareness. I hardly registered Tobias shaking my hand, saying he was happy to have seen me again, as he and Cassandra said their goodbyes and started on their way out. I blinked and most of the table was exchanging goodbyes, the previously bright windows now dark with the evening well underway. Caitlyn had gone missing too, walking out with her parents, and something in me acted before I could even process it. I think Powder was trying to get my attention, but I ignored her, walking right after Caitlyn without shame or thought. Something told me I had to follow her, that the next and last time I was going to see her couldn’t be when she was under the altar. 
 
  Our interactions just weren’t over yet. 
 
  I didn’t even question myself when I sped outside, following the family of three out onto the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Another party of goodbyes was going on with all the friends as I saw Caitlyn thanking people for coming on their way out and past her. Cassandra had disappeared, but Tobias was giving his daughter a hug when she managed a moment from her hostess duties. I was a bit of a distance aways, clearly not part of the interaction, and far enough for the pair to not notice me. But I did hear what Tobias had to say. 
 
  “Have fun, and be safe, darling,” he smiled into their small hug before pulling away. 
 
  “Thanks, dad,” Caitlyn had responded. “And thank you for fibbing to mum about this. I know she doesn’t exactly love this particular group…”
 
  “Don’t mention it, love. Believe me, I understand wanting to avoid an argument with 
  
    Mrs. Kiramman
  
  ,” he chuckled. “I for one am glad you have a group of girls to look out for you when you go out. Makes me feel better knowing you’re that much safer.”
 
  My attention to their confusing and out of context conversation was severed the moment Powder caught up to me. She panted and smacked my shoulder.
 
  “There you are,” she groaned. “You okay?”
 
  Probably assuming I left so quickly due to… 
  
    emotions… 
  
  Powder didn’t waste time checking in on me. But she followed my gaze to Caitlyn and her father and hummed, almost like she knew something I didn’t. 
 
  “Huh? Oh– yeah,” I said, finally registering her properly. “Sorry, just got kind of stuffy in there.”
 
  “
  
    Right
  
  .” A knowing smile graced her lips, and she jostled me around with the grip she took on my shoulder again. I was ready to bite back when all of a sudden, a shrill greeting was yelled across the street.
 
  
    “Oi! Ya bird!”
  
 
  We whipped our attention to see a gaggle of young women in an assortment of different short dresses and feather boas crossing the street. They approached, laughing and seemingly already wasted (or so they appeared) and they swarmed Caitlyn who was now all by her lonesome. Her father must’ve left in that quick second I was looking away, because now it was only a sea of bleach blonde hair, tight clothes, light up tiaras, and a sash that said 
  
    “bride to be”
  
   now being draped over Caitlyn’s shoulders. They were loud and boisterous, talking over each other as Cait laughed with them, seemingly a little embarrassed to be the center of attention. My sister and I just helplessly watched, a little in shock, not expecting this in general, but also that Caitlyn would surround herself with these types of friends.
 
  Okay, maybe that was
  
     a bit
  
   judgmental. 
 
  We hadn’t even talked to them. But we supposed–
 
  
    “Oh! My! God! 
  
  Caitlyn you
  
     cheeky, mental, woman! 
  
  You never said your ex was
  
     such a peng!”
  
 
  
    “Alie!”
  
 It wasn’t too long until one of the women (then a few more) spotted us, and for some godforsaken reason, we were recognized immediately. The first words (and every other word for that matter) they said hardly made any sense to us, and it dawned on me that d@mn… these are the most London people alive. Their slang made absolutely no sense. Some things you could make out due to context or television. But others just sounded like insults or dirty words. And knowing England… well they probably were. 
  
    A peng?
  
 
  When I blinked at the woman coming closer to me, she grinned at me sympathetically.
 
  “
  
    Oh, poor girl
  
  , we must be so random!!” She reached out and briefly shook my limp hand, then gave me a sultry, suggestive look. “You’re Vi right? Caitlyn’s old snog-mate?” 
 
  
    “Martha!”
  
 
  Caitlyn screeched upon hearing what her friend said, though I didn’t quite catch it the first time around. But given a few more seconds I managed to put two and two together. When Powder slapped my back, trying to choke down her laughter at the ridiculous accents, I was finally able to choke up my own words. 
 
  “Uh–!” I coughed, then cleared my throat. “Yeah, uh, that’s me.”
 
  “
  
    Aww
  
  , I forgot she was a yank!” another friend called from across the small group, which now was all shuffling over to us. 
 
  “Don’t be such a 
  
    snob
  
  , Marissa!” one more shouted back.
 
  I tried to tune it out, accidentally making sudden eye contact with Caitlyn in the process. Her expression was mortified, and it was clear then that I decidedly was 
  
    not 
  
  supposed to be a part of this. She clearly thought we must’ve left or something, because just looking at her she was obviously 
  
    way
  
   too uncomfortable with my being here. To be fair though, I was rather uncomfortable too now that all these women were ogling me, and my sister was providing very little help besides cackling rudely. They didn’t seem to pay her much mind, however.
 
  “How do you–” I started, confused more than anything at how I was so easily identified by this pack of complete strangers. 
 
  “Oh, we 
  
    must 
  
  go on a chinwag,” the original woman, Martha, said. “You’ve 
  
    got 
  
  to tell me 
  
    everything
  
  , love.”
 
  “A–” I was baffled as she took a hold of my shoulders, the group now deciding to start moving to an unknown (to me anyways) destination. “A what–?”
 
  The few girls that were still paying attention to me as we walked giggled. They may have made some kind of comment too, but I was too overstimulated to really understand or fully answer anything directed at me. They teased and laughed and encouraged me to keep up while also acquainting themselves with Powder who was happy to introduce herself. Though I was sure she was only so inclined because she saw these women as more of a form of entertainment than anything else. The rude little fiend.
 
  It was when I was mentally debating and trying to come up with an excuse to leave that I heard a mention of a club. And a drag club at that. Called the 
  
    Queen Victoria
  
  . (Now, if that wasn’t blasphemous then I didn’t know what was.) And with how much Powder was laughing at all the silly words floating around it seemed like I was really in for the ride. Powder wasn’t going to help me in my attempts to get away, that’s for sure. Not to mention I was shamefully and subconsciously watching Caitlyn from behind as she made her way effortlessly through the London streets. She was doing a d@mn good job at pretending I wasn’t there, but when I had the view I did I couldn’t complain.
 
  
    Shut up, brain. Figure out what a “chinwag” and a “peng” is from Martha instead, you pervert. 
  
 
  .
 
  Not even ten minutes into arriving at the club I sought out the bathrooms. I had made my peace with being dragged there by the time we showed up and figured I could at least relieve my bladder and watch drunk people embarrass themselves. That was always a fun time.
 
  I watched Powder get a drink, the other ladies flounder around Caitlyn, and drag queens wade around the crowds with their hands on their hips and bills sticking out of their cleavage. Swaying in between people, I felt my gut full of water spin around. It started an immediate need to find the bathrooms and take a p@ss, as I had drunk 
  
    way
  
   too much water at phase one of the party. Sipping the crystal glass kept my mouth busy, making me look less awkward and less rude when I inevitably answered a question slower than what was considered polite. So, watching as Powder waved her drink at me from across the crowd, signaling she was all good, I mouthed to her where I was going. She nodded, leaning an elbow on the bar in a casual way.
 
  It only took some quick glancing around before I saw some drunk women giggling and stumbling into a swinging door. On its front was a picture of Marilyn Monroe in her iconic blown up skirt look, signifying the women’s bathroom. I just let unimportant and wandering thoughts swim around in my head as I made my way through the crowd, trying not to bump into anyone. 
 
  When I reached the door I almost sighed, being squeezed from the tight grip of the dancing group of people like a wet bar of soap in someone’s hands. I shot out, barely exiting with any sense of grace before I rolled my shoulder absentmindedly and reached for the door. 
 
  And I was almost there, hand on the cold surface, before I was yanked away. Suddenly, I was pulled backwards by my shoulder, stumbling blindly as I was also turned around and shoved into a more obscured corner near the bathrooms. Firstly thinking this to be an incredibly impatient and rude clubber, a myriad of insults were on the tip of my tongue, but they halted halfway up my throat. I choked, almost coughed, my back to a wall and my surroundings all becoming the tall drink of water that was Caitlyn Kiramman once more.
 
  In her heels she was towering over me as she had a stern look about her face. Hair framed her cheekbones, a bit more wavy and wild after she let it down from her tight bun. A small strand was stuck to her lip gloss, and before I could get my question out, she brushed it away and cut me off.
 
  “What the 
  
    Hell 
  
  are you doing here?!” she yelled, having to speak over the loud music. 
 
  “I already told you!” I scoffed back, my face scrunching up in irritation. I didn’t recall her memory being that short– in fact, quite the opposite. “I was 
  
    invited!
  
  ”
 
  “Oh, stop it with that! Just tell me the truth!”
 
  “That 
  
    is 
  
  the truth!”
 
  I couldn’t hear it, as it was muffled under some early 2000s pop song, but she groaned. Momentarily she squeezed her eyes shut in concentration, seemingly mad at the loud environment too. Caitlyn tightly crossed her arms over her chest, glancing around and shifting her weight from one hip to the other. 
 
  “Why 
  
    did 
  
  you invite me?” I screamed back, feeling myself bubble with defensive hostility. “We don’t talk for like, what? Four, five years? Then out of nowhere I get an invite to your 
  
    wedding
  
  ? Like what the f@ck is that about!”
 
  Her own expression shrank in anger as well. 
 
  “Well! Forgive me for being polite!”
 
  “
  
    Polite?
  
  ” I laughed. “Yeah, you’ve been a real good host so far, Cupcake!”
 
  “Don’t you 
  
    dare
  
   call me that!”
 
  Truthfully, the nickname slipped out by accident, not realizing I had said it until she was red in the face with agitation. It seemed to tick her off more, like when we had first met. Not like four or five years ago when she’d laugh and roll her eyes at me.
 
  “Sor–”
 
  “Was it my parents?” she cut me off, and my apology died on my tongue.
 
  “What?”
 
  “My parents!” she shouted. “Were they the ones who invited you to my bachelorette party?”
 
  I was bewildered, and my head hurt from the deafening music. The people behind Caitlyn’s shoulder blurred out and the vibrations in the floor rumbled my brain against my skull in an uncomfortable way. She was being cryptic, asking questions to only satisfy her own end of curiosities. She was not at all interested in answering my own. That much was obvious. 
 
  “Was it payback? After all this time?”
 
  
    “What the f–”
  
 
  “That’s incredibly childish, Vi!”
 
  Rubbing my hand on my forehead I sucked in a deep breath to keep myself from blowing my lid. The fact that I was already yelling helped quite a bit. 
 
  “Did you call them up after you got my invite? Get yourself invited to my party? Just to ruin my one night of fun?” she slapped herself on the chest to indicate it was indeed her she was talking about, like I didn’t already know.
 
  
    “What!?” 
  
  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, truly. “Believe it or not, Caitlyn, the whole f@ck@n’ world doesn’t revolve around you! I have more important sh@t to do than plan out my revenge against you for dumping me 
  
    five 
  
  years ago!”
 
  That one looked to hurt, as her next words didn’t make it out of her mouth. She had inhaled to yell back but seemed to get caught off guard. Momentarily I saw a vulnerable look in those blue eyes, but she blinked, and it was gone. Her face twisted with fury again just as fast. 
 
  “It’s not so outlandish to think you’d do something so immature!” Caitlyn managed a jab back. “Besides, you’ve gone to them before!”
 
  My gut fell in an instant at the subject being brought up to the very front of the stage. We’d been tiptoeing around it all this time, but now I was terrified of being asked that question once more. I hid my shaking hands by tightening them into fists, clenching my teeth or biting my bottom lip so hard I swore I tasted blood. 
 
  “Oh my 
  
    God
  
  ,” I remember I sounded so exhausted, exasperated. “Are you sh@t faced already?”
 
  “What did you even go to them for the first ti–”
 
  “I’m not discussing this anymore!” Blowing up was now the only option, and I was embarrassed to admit I had to stand on my toes to get up into her face before I tried to march away. However, I got only three steps before she caught up and trapped me in an exchange again.
 
  “I could be mad too you know!” 
 
  “Oh 
  
    really
  
  ?” incredulously, I mirrored her crossed arms and tilted my chin up at her in defiance. 
 
  “You’ve never even told me why!” she said, her voice wavering unexpectedly. “They won’t tell me either! Why on 
  
    Earth 
  
  would you go to talk to them– 
  
    without 
  
  me, too! I never considered you so stupid until then!”
 
  “Yeah, well I know how you like your detective shows!” was my response. “So maybe you can try and figure out that mystery too, 
  
    Cupcake!”
  
 
  That time I said the name on purpose, relishing in the pained look in her eyes before guilt washed over me almost right away. I swallowed it down and forced it away, my anger trumping any and all reason. Again, I attempted to push past her, succeeding this time in hitting her shoulder, but she stopped me once more. I practically growled at her persistence. She was getting ready to make a comeback, but I didn’t want to hear it, so I didn't let her get it out.
 
  “I’ve been needing to p@ss since dinner and unless you want me to ruin your precious Louis Vuitton shoes, I suggest you get the 
  
    f@ck 
  
  out of my way!”
 
  That seemed to do the trick, my third attempt to escape being the one that actually worked. I didn’t spare her a glance as I pushed into the bathroom and immediately claimed a stall, ignoring her shout after me.
 
  
    “They’re Prada!”
  
 
  I didn’t come out of the bathroom for at least an hour.
 
  Trying to calm down with people throwing up around you was harder than it looked.
 
  .



  Caitlyn was p@ssy. 
 
  Or so I had heard.
 
  Powder told me the morning after that she watched the woman stomp away from where the bathroom was and next to her at the bar. It didn’t appear she knew Powder was standing there, elbow on the wooden bar top, sipping a Shirley Temple Black through a skinny red straw. Caitlyn threw her credit card down, opened a tab, and promptly (or rudely, in Powder’s words) ordered several shots for herself. Powder was a tad shocked at this, not taking Caitlyn for a shots girl (she’s not) and not expecting several shot glasses to be placed in front of her at a time. Powder glanced around, seeing most of the blonde-headed bimbos (again, her words, not mine) that Cait called friends on the dancefloor. Yet Caitlyn was drinking alone– 
  
    well
  
  , not entirely; not anymore.
 
  “Want help with those?”
 
  Caitlyn jumped, apparently really not realizing Powder was indeed standing there. She squeaked out an 
  
    ‘Oh!’ 
  
  before taking a large gulp of air as a sigh of relief. 
 
  “You startled me, Powder,” she laughed, not having to talk nearly as loud at the bar. They were further away from the action. 
 
  “I thought you said on the walk over you weren’t gonna drink much,” she nodded at the four little glasses now full of clear, potent liquid and Caitlyn wryly smiled. 
 
  “Well,” she sighed again. “Change of plans.”
 
  According to my sister the two of them shared some drinks and some laughs, and she watched as Caitlyn got progressively more and more drunk. She didn’t want to stop her, because one, she’s an adult who can do what she likes, and two, Caitlyn is a very fun drunk. I can attest to that as well, no matter how she’d protest. Each shot that she got deeper into the drunken world, the gigglier and the more open she got about things. It was entertaining to watch, like a circus animal being set free and watching them prance around an open field for the first time. Little sheltered Caitlyn, who grew up needing to be nice and proper, polite and humble, could finally let her hair down and act a little irresponsibly. I loved seeing that side of her. I cherished each moment I had to witness that raw beauty. I was proud to see that side come out more and more when we were together, her getting comfortable acting that way without the aid of booze. But now it was clear she’d shut herself up again. She’d gone rigid, stiff, and that side hadn’t been released in God knows how long.  



  .



  Caitlyn scoffed from her seat at the bar, a shot glass grasped tightly in between her elegant fingers. Her back was against the wood of it, her legs crossed as she swiveled idly on the stool slightly. Powder remained standing next to her, similarly, leaning back as she sipped her second drink of the night and listened to Caitlyn gripe. A rant that she wasn’t listening to. Apparently, it had been going for awhile, but when I finally emerged from the bathroom it heightened in intensity tenfold. Caitlyn spotted me trying to make my way back to the bar, where I didn’t see her at all. My focus was on the immediate person in front of me, and unfortunately, I got caught up in the group of girls that called themselves Caitlyn’s friends. They bombarded me with questions, only knowing the basics about me, and that Caitlyn and I used to date. 
 
  
    Juicy gossip
  
  .
 
  Meanwhile it gave both women at the bar a good show by watching me struggle and get shoved around by dancing, drunk strangers.
 
  Caitlyn threw back shot number unknown (she’d lost count, and so had Powder), and with the gasping breath to follow she groaned. This snapped my sister back into real conversation with the leggy bride-to-be. 
 
  “God!” she slurred. “She’s jusss always been suu— suuch an immature prssnn.” Caitlyn ordered another drink. “It’s ‘onesstly suuch a shock shess evn ‘ere.”
 
  “Really knocking those back, huh?” Powder observed. “What’s got your undies in such a twist?”
 
  “Vi! Of courssse! ‘Ave you nnot been listenin’ to me?”
 
  Powder stared at Caitlyn, a bored expression on her face as she looked over the absolutely dilapidated state that she was in. She wouldn’t admit it, but I knew that Pow started to get worried about her. 
  
    Maybe it had to do with binge drinking or something…
  
   and Caitlyn was still an important person to me at the time despite my inane denial. That connected her to her big sister, which meant Pow had a reason to get worried. All the years after our breakup, Powder started talking about Caitlyn like she liked her. Which I knew for a fact she didn’t. When we first started dating, her anxiety and paranoia got all mixed up with Caitlyn. Wrong place, wrong time. She blamed Caitlyn for a lot of things, took out her anger on her, always took my side in arguments (which isn’t always what I needed to be honest, because more often than not I was in the wrong). But after she left, Powder suddenly… missed her.
 
  She talked about her Instagram posts; things we saw that reminded her of Caitlyn. She brought her up way more often than I was comfortable with, and she always ignored my warnings. I didn’t know it at the time, but Powder knew more than what she was telling. She had an agenda. Powder is such a smart girl, I should’ve known she had something up her sleeve all those years. It took me quite a while to figure out. I didn’t know it in this moment, and I certainly didn’t know it further back then either.
 
  Regardless, over time some kind of care for Caitlyn bloomed in my sister. Somehow. But now Cait was badmouthing me, ranting about my immaturity (which is fair considering how I acted years ago, her only frame of reference). And that rubbed Powder the wrong way. She had been there while I was growing, but Caitlyn wasn’t; a mixture of the hostility and the fact of 
  
    how could Caitlyn know any of that if she wasn’t there
  
   mixed ugly in Powder’s gut. She’d matured a lot too though, not so prone to giving into intrusive thoughts and remaining calm. 
 
  When Caitlyn didn’t get an answer, she just scoffed again, and downed the new drink she got, hissing at the burn of whatever liquor the bartender gave her. She continued when she caught her breath.
 
  “She nev’a could facce things!” she yelled. “Like 
  
    oh my god
  
   I cnnt tell you ‘ow many times she juss left in the middle of an argumnt–! 
  
    Phhft
  
  – an’ she jus did it again!”
 
  “What? From earlier? She needed to piss, genius,” Powder sipped her own drink, mostly water from her melted ice cubes now. “And you didn’t exactly start the conversation in a diplomatic manner.”
 
  “But–”
 
  “You know she’s not like that anymore, right? Ever think she might’ve learned since you dropped her outta nowhere?”
 
  “Well 
  
    duh–
  
  !  A‘course peopll changge an’ groow but— 
  
    But 
  
  she didn act diffrnt jus now–” Caitlyn’s slurring was getting pretty bad. Her London accent was rendering her words almost indistinguishable from pure gibberish.
 
  “The old Vi would’ve been too petty to fly across the g@dd@mn 
  
    Atlantic 
  
  to come to her ex’s 
  
    wedding
  
  . She would’ve sent back the RSVP with a picture of her flipping you off. I mean, you said yourself how shocking it is that she’s here, right?”
 
  Caitlyn merely stared, listening now and suddenly, a bit of shame washing over her body as Powder continued.
 
  “You really f@ck@d her up, y’know. Not even letting her give you a proper goodbye. No closure. And she got into some nasty sh@t after that.”
 
  “Like…” Caitlyn sounded a bit more sheepish. “Like what?”
 
  And even though it was a private matter, something I was ashamed of and didn’t like to share, Powder didn’t hesitate to blurt out my whole tragic story. But it was because it was Caitlyn. I was p@ss@d at first when I found out she told her, but later on I was kinda grateful. She had that hard conversation for me, because ultimately, I would’ve wanted Caitlyn to know at some point. 
 
  It was Powder’s turn to scoff, sipping the last of her watered-down cocktail. 
 
  “Landed herself in the hospital with alcohol poisoning for one.” She heard Caitlyn swear in shock, but she continued to speak over her. “Sure, you’re not responsible for what she decided to do after you left, but I think you just ought to know how treating someone who
  
     loves 
  
  with their
  
     whole heart
  
   like absolute sh@t, like you did, can have disastrous and fatal effects.”
 
  According to Powder, she thought Caitlyn was about to start crying on her. She swore her eyes got glassy and there were tears on her water line, however she never did let them go. Somehow, she covered them up and pushed them down, if they were even there to begin with, that is.
 
  “She’s sober now. Doesn’t do any kind of anything. Only drugs she takes are her prescribed medications.”
 
  Together, they looked out onto the dancefloor, where I was still hilariously trying to worm my way out of the girl group holding me hostage. I was getting increasingly frustrated but also awkward with their personal and incessant questions about mine and Caitlyn’s old relationship. About why I came. About how I 
  
    looked quite a bit like Victoria, don’t you think?
  
 
  That last one hit me like a truck, like the wind got knocked outta me. I decided it was then that I 
  
    really 
  
  needed to get outta there and catch my breath.
 
  “I didnn know..” Caitlyn mumbled, watching me tug myself free in the distance.
 
  “You didn’t ask,” Powder spared her no glance, also keeping her eyes on me. “You just 
  
    assumed
  
  .”
 
  .
 
  When I got back and popped out of the crowd, I almost stumbled right into my little sister. She laughed at me and shoved my shoulder, giving me no indication that the pair had been seriously discussing me just moments earlier.
 
  “Woah woah!” she shouted at me. “How many shots of 
  
    sparkling water
  
   have you had? I’m cutting you off!”
 
  I laughed back, cursing at her, not knowing how thematically appropriate and perfectly timed that joke was. It had been long enough that Powder and close buddies could poke fun at me about all that. Humor has helped me cope quite a bit, actually. But I didn’t get much of a response out before I felt a tug on the shoulder of my shirt. I hadn't fully registered that Caitlyn was also there since Powder’s big energy distracted me, but when I looked over, I was able to fully take in her form for a second time in that bar.
 
  It was a stark contrast to how she looked when she confronted me an hour or so ago (I think, I have no idea how long I was trapped on the dancefloor). She was clearly drunk, her lip gloss mostly gone and stuck to a number of shot glasses if I had to guess. But she was also smaller in stature. She was leaning on the bar and somewhat curled into herself, like she was embarrassed or suddenly felt really cold. Which I wouldn’t have been surprised by honestly. Caitlyn was always cold, no matter where we went. I used to tease her about it, but something (maybe the fact that we had 
  
    just 
  
  been screaming at each other) told me this wasn’t the right time to jeer. She kept her hand holding onto my sleeve as she yelled over the music.
 
  “Eyy, can we talk ou-sside?” When she clocked my confused expression she added: “
  
    Please?
  
  ”
 
  Powder patted my back when I looked back at her for some clarity or context, because 
  
    maybe 
  
  she knew 
  
    why 
  
  Caitlyn suddenly wanted to talk. And why she was acting more demur now versus when she was on the warpath earlier. But Powder just ushered me out with Caitlyn, her way of telling me I should hear her out. So I nodded and followed her outside, trusting Powder wasn’t just trying to get rid of us. But I more so escorted her rather than followed, as the drunk woman was somewhat holding my sleeve for a bit of balance on her heels.
 
  We made it outside with no problem, and she was quick to put her arms around herself when the wind hit us. She stopped her stumbling after leading us to the side of the building, the one with little to no lights, and where no one in the parking lot could immediately overhear us. Caitlyn leaned herself against the wall with a sigh, but immediately recoiled as her exposed upper back touched the cold brick. She rubbed her arms and I had half the mind to offer her my jacket, the one I hadn’t gotten around to taking off yet, but she started talking before I had the chance.
 
  “I juss wanted to ‘pologize for b’fore..” she wavered on her heels and looked at the ground. “It wss mean n undeserved, an’ I let my emotions get the better uh-of me…”
 
  I was stunned. I hadn’t seen Caitlyn express humility like this in a while, and so soon after an argument. It really got me thinking about what Powder and her must’ve been talking about. 
 
  Caitlyn was always one for amicable arguments, debates, remaining calm, and listening to one another. It was usually me who got things all messy, which undoubtedly frustrated her to no end. But she was patient with me, although also very stubborn. Took a lot to convince her she was wrong about something. The only time, however, I’ve seen her explode was our final breakup fight, and then just now in the club. And she never expressed sorrow or humility about the former situation, which set a precedent; I suppose she wasn’t doing that here either, but it felt close. Almost felt like she wanted to fit an apology for the breakup 
  
    into 
  
  the apology about our recent fight but couldn’t conjure up the words in her drunken brain.
 
  
    Man, I've been there.
  
   
 
  Or maybe that was just wishful thinking…
 
  “Hey… uh, it’s– it’s alright.” 
 
  It wasn’t. Not really. She was right that she shouldn’t have spoken to me like that, we both knew that. But I shouldn’t have spoken to her like that either. Before I could even think, I was forgiving her, and then saying ‘sorry’ myself.
 
  “I should apologize too, y’know.. I shouldn’t’ve said all that sh@t.”
 
  “Yeah, but I inss-tigated it–! I juss showed up like
  
     ‘blaah!’
  
   y’know?”
 
  I couldn’t help but crack a smile at her goofy response, to which I think she noticed and pouted out her bottom lip. Because she was being 
  
    serious, d@mn it.
  
   It all felt familiar, and that left a warm but incredibly strange feeling in my chest that traveled down to my gut. As she riled herself up in her apology, seemingly wanting to take most, if not all of the blame, I could tell her heels were being a huge hindrance. She was gonna fall over if she wasn’t careful, as they were taller than ones she typically wore. At least ones I 
  
    used 
  
  to see her wear. Just out of instinct I grabbed her shoulder to steady her, something she didn’t respond to but was surely grateful for. It was getting harder for her to keep her eyes open, and I could see her getting dizzy. 
 
  I knew the signs a little too well. 
 
  “Hey, hey,” I said, attempting to keep her from spiraling, from drunkenly falling into a pit of emotions. “S’all in the past now, right?”
 
  She paused and she looked at me, she searched my eyes, and the eye contact started to make me sweat even in the chilly weather. 
 
  “You promise?” she said. “We’re good–?”
 
  “Yeah, we’re good… Promise.”
 
  My voice was more gentle than normal, a softness I saved for important moments like when Powder needed comfort and a hand to hold after a bad panic attack. It just happened automatically. I still had every bit of Caitlyn memorized, seeing genuine shame in her eyes, and because of that my subconscious decided for me that it was time to start the journey of forgiving Caitlyn. First step was accepting her apology for our little spat, one that neither of us handled well. And it felt good. It felt good knowing we could still talk openly like this, even if we were only… friends, even if she was blackout drunk. 
 
  Baby steps. 
 
  At my answer Caitlyn let out a large sigh of relief and finally, 
  
    finally 
  
  smiled. Like, a real one. A 
  
    real 
  
  Caitlyn Kiramman smile. Not one of those fake ones she put on for appearances or parties. It was wide and free and showed off her gap tooth. A breath of fresh air it was. 
 
  Briefly I wondered if she was still insecure about her gap. That was a thought I was working hard on demolishing for many years, and a small wave of jealousy washed over me in thinking that Victoria might’ve been the one to actually be successful on that mission. But that was all hypotheticals, and ones that would drive me insane if I indulged in them. I’ve had plenty of things thrown at me and shouts from Powder as punishment for digging myself into those holes and hiding in my room all day. 
 
  Besides, I was still in denial about my feelings at this point. So how could I possibly be jealous, right?
 
  “
  
    Oh
  
  , ffank heavnnns,” Caitlyn sighed, then flung her arms up. “Hu-ug it out?”
 
  I laughed, but indulged her, knowing she’d forget about it in the morning. She wasn’t a hug person, not unless she drank whiskey. So, I knew at least one of the things she drank to get like she was. We wrapped each other up in a casual hug, until I heard Caitlyn speak into my shoulder, suddenly drawing closer.
 
  
    “Oh my god you’re so warm…”
  
 
  
    And Caitlyn was freezing.
  
 
  Without even thinking she re-hugged me but tried to get under my jacket with me this time. I could feel her frozen hands shaking on my back through my shirt, and her red nose nuzzled into the space between my neck and shoulder in an attempt to hide from the wind. I laughed awkwardly, my arms hovering around her, where she was, not sure if I should return
  
     this type
  
   of hug. Caitlyn probably didn’t even realize what she was doing. She was just being the animal that humans are, drawing close to whatever heat source is nearest. It probably didn’t occur to her that hugging her ex like this the night before her wedding could be misconstrued or be considered inappropriate. I was warm and she was cold, that was it. But the awkwardness of being the one hugged embodied me from head to toe, and I tried to laugh it off, ignoring my own shiver down my spine and attributing it to her cold skin.
 
  “Hey, let’s head back inside where it’s warm,” I proposed, staying completely still with wide eyes.
 
  “Jussa second,” Caitlyn mumbled back, muffled by the collar of my shirt. “Don’ wanna go back into tuh cold yet…”
 
  I didn’t wanna argue with her, especially after this little connection to our old friendliness was rediscovered, so I tried to suck in some deep breaths and let them go. She seemed comfy, and from what I could crane my neck to see, she had her eyes closed. 
 
  “Don’t fall asleep on me now,” I joked, then tacked something at the end. “What would your fiancé think seein’ you stuffed in another woman’s jacket?”
 
  Caitlyn snorted, an indication she found my messing around funny. Which was good at least. But she didn’t make to move or respond further than that. So I accepted my fate, my resolve not very strong in the first place. Again, 
  
    denial
  
  , but I was secretly savoring the familiar feeling. A feeling I had missed
  
     so much.
  
   I let her warm herself up for a while longer, let her hold on tight, let her now messy hair tickle my jaw, and I let my arms finally fall back on her to return the embrace. That made her snuggle closer, as I now was shielding her back from the cold. I regretted it and didn’t all at the same time as soon as it happened, legitimately worried someone would see this odd interaction. But where we were on the side of the building, mostly obscured by the lack of lamp posts, no one should see us unless they came searching on purpose.
 
  “I heard yurr ssober now..” I felt Caitlyn vibrate her words into my shoulder after a while. But my immediate reaction to that statement made me rigid and nervous, like a deer caught in the headlights. Anger at my sister, but a kind that hadn’t quite set in yet at that moment; but I knew it would later, when Caitlyn wasn’t attached to me like a baby koala with its mother. I stuttered ungracefully for a second or two to little success, but Caitlyn interrupted me. “...‘mm proud a’ yoou…”
 
  That extinguished the fire of shame and embarrassment, soothed me almost immediately. If I was a bit more vulnerable and less shocked at the entirety of the ridiculous situation, I probably would’ve teared up. I didn’t know until that moment how badly I needed to hear that from her. Acknowledgment at my hard work, knowing how much I’ve grown, how much time and effort I’ve put into myself over the years. Of course, I wanted an apology from her (since forever) about the initial breakup fight, but like I said, 
  
    baby steps.
  
 
  And this was another step in the right direction. 
 
  And it felt good.
 
  Before I could mutter out a pathetic ‘thank you’ Caitlyn suddenly lifted her head. That side of her hair was mussed, and her eyes were squinty like a four year old who just woke up from a nap. It was kinda adorable. But her face went pale, and she grumbled to herself before quickly stumbling her way out of my jacket and arms.
 
  “
  
    Oh no
  
  – 
  
    it’s happening
  
  –”
 
  Caitlyn turned and made her way to the small patch of grass and bushes against that side of the building. She tripped a bit over her own heels, but didn’t fall, and I caught on rather quickly saying ‘
  
    oh oh, okay, go ahead I gotcha’ 
  
  and taking a hold of her hair when she got down on her knees.
 
  And then she threw up.
 
  The booze in her system finally said it’s time to go. I looked away, wanting to give her some semblance of privacy, but kept one hand holding her hair while the other rested on her back. Subconsciously I think I started rubbing circles there as I heard her cough and spit, making sure to get all the poison out of her body. And after a beat, she groaned, and sat up straighter, shivering once again from the cold weather. This time I didn’t hesitate, taking my jacket off and draping it over her shoulders. 
 
  “
  
    Aww
  
  ,” Caitlyn cooed, her slurring disappearing but her sleepiness starting to take over. “Still such a gentleman after all these years…”
 
  “Feel better?” I asked, watching her close the jacket around herself and ignoring her compliment.
 
  “I think so… sorry,” she sighed, but I waved her off with a shrug of my shoulders. 
 
  I helped her to her feet, and she wobbled only slightly, still not entirely sober or used to the height. She giggled at herself before taking my arm to keep herself steady when we walked back inside. 
 
  However, she was off me just as fast, as when we entered, Caitlyn’s friends found us immediately and dragged her away. They were all laughing and stumbling, yelling about a certain song that they all just 
  
    had 
  
  to dance to. 

  
  

    
      
        
        
          Bird: another word for “woman” or something to call a womanMental: insaneCheeky: adjective for forward and usually mischievous or scandalousPeng: something you’d call someone who’s attractiveAlie: means “I agree”Snog: verb for kissing or being intimateChinwag: to chinwag is to gossip or to spill the tea sis queen honey slay boots the house down realness for your nerves!'
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