Page 27 of Fragile

As the carriage rattled along the track my phone beeped to say I had a message. Retrieving it from the pocket of my jeans, I saw it was from Asher.

Where are you? I didn’t think you were working tonight.

I thumbed back. I had to. It was a last-minute thing but more money.

The Ash is typing wording appeared at the top of the screen. Get a shift on, you’re missing the party and I’m bored. He added an eye-rolling emoji.

He hadn’t said they were having a party and I thought Gabriel had vetoed them until after his finals.

That night I had covered one of the other girls' shifts as a favour as I had explained I couldn’t work the weekends. Once a month, my dance class ran shows on a Saturday, so I had to make sure these were always kept free just in case. I couldn’t allow my job as a waitress to affect my schooling and future career. When they had given me the dance scholarship, they had been extremely clear that the school came first. Nothing else mattered.

I’m on the Tube now.

Cool, get a move on. I’m making margaritas!

Smiling, I pushed my phone away. I wasn’t in the mood for a party but I didn’t want to appear rude. I wondered how big of a do it would be. I was so tired and my feet were literally burning the rubber from my shoes.

When I got to the apartment the lift doors slid open and said party revealed itself, my heart sank. Full-on was too weak a word to describe what was in front of me. Of course, having no neighbours meant the boys could turn their music up to a volume which was almost shaking the glass of the windows. I stepped out into the chaos.

I would say there were around forty-odd people; some dancing, others dotted on the sofas or in different corners of the room talking in clusters. Everyone was pretty much the same age and at different stages of inebriation.

I recognised some of Gabriel's friends by the TV screen which had MTV music blaring out and several independent speakers were booming with the same song. The kitchen counter was loaded with all different types of spirits and bottles of wine and beer. There were glasses everywhere, on most surfaces, along with discarded red solo cups. It was like a scene from one of those house parties in American dramas you saw on Netflix.

As I moved across the space, intending to go straight to my room, I noticed Asher by the sink.

“Here she is,” a male voice whisper-shouted beside me. I turned, lowering my bag. It was one of Gabriel’s friends I had met that first night. I couldn’t remember his name and he must have realised that as he stuck his hand out and re-introduced himself.

“Luca, we met the other week, when we were watching the game,” he explained. I shook his hand which felt a bit formal, flicking my hair back to look up at him. I needed to be extra nice, bearing in mind who he was friends with.

“Of course, I remember.”

“So, how are you settling in?” Luca asked. He then went on to answer his own question, saying how Asher had explained that I was now part of the furniture after only two weeks.

After a brief conversation about how I was finding my feet, I excused myself, saying how I needed to drop my bag in my room and freshen up. To which Luca aka ‘the charmer’ said that I looked fresh enough.

When I got to my room, I felt a surge of relief that there wasn’t anyone in there. The thought of a stranger seeing my personal belongings and pictures of my parents made me uncomfortable.

After dumping my bag, I went into the bathroom, washed my face, brushed my hair, and applied a minimal amount of makeup. I added lip gloss, having seen some of the girls there, literally caked in it and I didn’t want to look underage.

Most guests were casually dressed in jeans so I changed the ones I had been wearing all day and pulled on some black skinny jeans and a tight black strappy tee. I checked myself in the mirrored wardrobe, I looked passable. I then pushed black ballet flats onto my feet and went out into the circus; telling myself to find Asher, share a few drinks and then barricade myself in my room. I felt nervous around so many strangers.

As I moved down the corridor, past a couple of people who smiled as I passed, I went into the kitchen area and found Asher. His face lit up and he pushed a red cup into my hand.

“About time, I was going to send Marco to find you,” he chuntered with a bright red face. “Sorry, I had the last cocktail. Hope you like the beer. I was worried you know.”

Due to all the bodies in the space, it was quite hot and my jeans felt like they were already sticking to my legs.

“Sorry, I should have messaged but it was very last minute. I only covered for a couple of hours.”

Leaning back against the counter beside a boy and girl who appeared to be stoned, my eyes roamed around the area.

It didn’t take long for me to find Gabriel. He was stretched out on one of the sofas with his posse flocked around him and a girl draped across his knee. I recognised all the boys bar one. A large mean-looking tattooed guy was sitting on the armrest and speaking in Gabriel’s left ear; a bottle of beer hugged against his large chest. He wore a black Nine Inch Nails tee which pulled taunt across his frame and faded jeans. He looked a bit like he belonged in prison.

My heart flipped in my chest as Gabriel turned his head slightly and his eyes locked with mine. His bulky buddy seemed to notice he’d lost his friend’s attention and he followed Gabriel’s eyeline with a frown. As that second pair of eyes latched onto mine, the stranger's mouth widened into a large, satisfied smile.

Asher was speaking to me, something about a nude he was attempting to sculpt but I wasn’t really listening. I was drawn to that other side of the room; the place where he was rested; Gabriel Knight, the man of my dreams or nightmares? Who knew at that point? I also hated the fact that I felt offended by the girl on his lap. Was that his girlfriend?

The large man said something else to Gabriel, who clearly didn’t appreciate it as he scowled at his friend; barking something back. His face was like thunder, so much so that the girl on his lap turned and looked behind her, straight at me. She had long brown hair which fell like silk down her back and was pretty. The black dress she was wearing had rode up her thighs and I noticed one of Gabriel’s hands lay there massaging her skin. She gave me a once-over before turning back to face Gabriel, re-catching his attention. The killer smile he gave her was like a slap in the face for me. Was that jealousy?

---