Four: Familiar

   "Hellllllo, Quinn? I... I'm sorry, okay? Look, Sandi- hick- and I had girls' night-t-t and look, she's reallllly boring without you. I didn't- hick- realize thattt when y-y-you werrrre her-r-r-re-e. I wannnna come over and talk-k. I'm gonna come- hick- over." I hung up my phone, slipped it into my bra, staring at my blurry image in the club's dirty bathroom window. I took a step, stumbling into the door, my thoughts rushing together, as I staggered backwards, as the door was pushed open. Black hair. Bright colored dress. "San-n-ndi?" I asked, tilting my head, as the three Sandis nodded, in unison. They opened their mouths, speaking words too quickly for me to understand.
   "Lavender!" I recognized my name, saw the face, twisted into a look of concern. "I've been looking for you for over an hour; the club's insane."
   "I gottas- hick- go." Quinn. I called Quinn. Go to Quinn's.
   "You're completely smashed; when I said we could celebrate the end of the school year, I didn't necessarily mean you doing shots off of some girl's belly button."
   "A guy paiddd me to." I replied, leaning against the wall for support.
   "I'll help you get home, get you a cab."

   "Noooo, I goood." I moved forward, pushing the middle Sandi away, swaying as she did.
   "Lavender, you can barely walk! How much vodka did you drink?"
   "Kwev-v-en-t..." One month. Quinn. We break up one month ago. Elaine... Biological mother. One month.
   "That's not a number! Let me help you. If Quinn hadn't had Pilates, she'd be here, agreeing with me."
   "Nooo..." I staggered out the door, hearing her chase after me, as I passed people, the stench of cheap alcohol and sweat filling my nostrils, the neon lights blinding me, disco tech filling my ears. Fresh air. I reached fresh air. It was dark outside. Dark. I hailed a cab, falling onto the backseat, rattling off Quinn's address. Quinn. Had to see Quinn. Had to see familiar.
   One month. One month, meadi contacting, begging, pleading for a statement. Book deals. Lifetime wanted to make my life a movie... Movie. I said maybe... Haha, maybe funny. The month and an animal. Insects are animals? Maybe. The cab stopped, as I tossed a wad of green at the driver, pushing open the door, go into apartment building, hit elevator building. Walk, fall, stand up, walk, walk, knock on apartment door. The door flew open, as I staggered inside. My mind was on one talk, as I opened my mouth, words flying passed my smeared lipstick.

   "Kiss me."

♢ ♢ ♢ 

   "Hell..." My eyes fluttered open, as the light hit me, blinding me, as my hand flew to my face. I peaked through my fingers, glancing at my surroundings. I was sprawled out on a hard mattress, a spring digging into my back, a thin, neutral colored cotton blanket wrapped around my legs, glancing at an impeccably clean bedroom, with an apparent lack of decor.
   I fumbled to stand up, tearing the sheets away from my, my head pounding. I stumbled forward, my feet aching, glancing down. I was dressed in last night's  regretful wardrobe choice that made me look cheap, a black dress that was clinging to me, damp and leopard print pumps I had no recollection of wearing or buying. Why was I still dressed, wearing heels? And who's apartment was I in? 
   A pair of aviators sat on the nightstand, I grateful grabbed for the sunglasses, slipping them onto my face. Curses ran through my head, as I moved towards the bedroom door, unsure of what I should expected. How could I have been so careless? So ignorant? What son, or daughter, of a bitch, had decided to take me home when I was completely smashed?
   Arthur Langley.
   I held onto the door frame of the bedroom, the name filling my mind. Who was he? Was I in his house? I couldn't piece together last night's events after I left the club, however I could remember a name...

   The hallway was equally drab, darkened by the tinted lenses, the sound of running, pounding water close. Someone was taking a shower. 
   I was rather hesitant to stay; I wasn't sure who they were, there had been no personal touches I could use to identify them. I moved forwards, towards the kitchen, inhaling.
   Burnt coffee. Low budget caffeine. 
   Cheap alcohol, wafting from my mouth. The stench of sweat and sick.
   Lemon, chemical citrus, disinfectant.

  A plain kitchen, a few crumbs scattered across the table. The whir, whish, whish, whish, of a dishwasher. The apartment didn't look lived in, the occupant wasn't here often, they either had a demanding job, grueling away for hours upon end, earning a mediocre salary, or they frequented there free time  with illicit activities they didn't care to associate with their place of residence. The latter seemed far less likely.
   "It's plausible..." I mused, nervously tapping my index finger against my left thigh. What was one night stand etiquette? I didn't think that I had had a sheltered upbringing, but the last month's activities had proved otherwise, I obviously didn't know how to handle death or casual sex. The shower stopped, as panic filled me. 
   Clamoring to the the door, fleeing the scene, like a criminal, I moved as quickly as a hungover person could. I exhaled, when I was out of the apartment, glancing at the door. 
   "Three-eight." The apartment number... The hallway looked familiar, I didn't visit many people... "Quinn! Three-seven!" Dammit. I'd been toying with the idea of coming to her apartment building and I had, only, I'd knocked on the door across from her's.

   "Lavender?" A deep voice asked, coming from the apartment I'd just fled. "Where are you going?"
   "Huh?" I turned to see him, a dark haired man, a shirtless dark haired man, in sweats, standing int he door frame. "OH, f-" The four letter F-bomb slipped past my lips before I could stop it, as my jaw dropped. Him?!

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