Walking in, the first thing I notice is the abundance of bodies covering every inch of the mansion-sized house. In the car we all decided to go straight to the kitchen to get a drink first, before we joined the rest of the party. Following that, I stay in between the two boys as they guide me to the kitchen. They must have been here multiple times before since they seem to know the place so well. Walking through, people seem to part for us like the red sea. The music dims and everyone stops what they are doing to stare at us. I look at the men I'm with and wonder, who are they? Why are people treating them this way? Aren't they just normal guys? I make a note to ask them later.
Finally making it to the kitchen, separated by a wall from the rest of the house, I hear the music turn up and people shouting, liking the song.
"What do you want to drink?" Damon yells over the bass.
"No more shots!"
Instead of screaming again, he grabs Smirnoff Orange from the counter, taking care not to hit the many other varieties of alcohol that replace the top of the counter. Pouring it into a red solo cup that he took from an unopened package in the cupboard above the stove, he goes into the fridge and grabs the orange juice. Taking a quick sniff, he checks the date and, passing his inspection, pours it into the cup. Finally, taking a spoon from the utensil drawer next to the sink, he stirs the concoction together and hands it to me.
"It's a screwdriver," he yells. The music is not so heavy with the bass anymore, but the floor still shakes with the sheer volume expelling from the speakers.
I take a quick sip and am pleasantly surprised. The drink is definitely dangerous considering the pungent flavor of the orange juice drowns out the alcoholic burn of the vodka.
"Do you like it?"
"Yes! It's really good. No alcohol taste!"
"I knew you would like it."
Nudging Brandon he nods his head out back.
"We are going to grab beers. Stay here. We will be right back!" Brandon tells me.
Ten minutes in and I'm already alone. I sigh and reassure myself that this will not be like last time. I am here with them, they won't just forget about me. Taking another sip of my drink, I down the rest of the cup and close my eyes as I feel the smallest burn in the back of my throat. For chugging a whole cup, that's not too bad. Copying Damon's previous steps, I make myself another cup. It, for some odd reason, doesn't taste as good, but it tastes fine nonetheless. Afterall, alcohol is alcohol. After having more than ten people bump into me, I move my position and back into the corner of the room.
What is taking them so long?
Looking around, I decide that I can't just stand here and do nothing. This is my first party and I am going to get drunk and dance the night away. With that thought in mind, I walk out of the kitchen and join the rest of the crowd.
Standing on the outskirts of the dance floor, I realize a major flaw. Dancing with an open drink is a good way to get that drink everywhere including on me. Quickly tackling another screwdriver, I faintly feel the buzz of the alcohol hit me. Finally, I'm tipsy.
Placing my cup on a nearby table, I make my way to the middle of the dance floor. I feel hidden, protected by all the dancing bodies surrounding me. The beat moves my body, swaying my hips and moving my hands. I feel free, totally at one with the beat. Without noticing, a guy makes his way towards me.
Moulding his body to mine, he whispers "I'd love to feel what's under that dress, but I would rather see it when I take it off."
My body stops moving as flashbacks attack me and the feeling of being uncomfortable encompasses my whole body. I need to get away from this creep.
Ignoring how I feel, I become stoic, only focusing on moving away from him and back to where people are bystanders instead of being lost in the music. Taking one step away from him, he grabs my arm and yanks me back so that I crash into his chest and lose my balance.
"Don't fight, Baby. I'll make you feel real good."
Struggling harder, I try to shove, kick, and punch at him. "Let me go!" I try to yell above the music, but it falls on deaf ears. As we move through the crowd, I try to grab at other people to get their attention, but they all shake it off thinking I am just bumping into them because of the lack of space between each body.
When we make it out of the crowd and I'm still in his steel-like hold, panic makes its way into my veins until all I can feel is fear about what is going to happen. One thing I do know, I won't stop fighting.
In a feeble attempt, I yell out "help me!" and hope someone was listening close enough to hear it.
He pushes me into the room right off of the living room/ dance floor. I notice that there are two windows that overlook the backyard. I frantically look around as he tries to push me towards the big white bed in the center of the room. Quickly spotting Damon and Brandon, I think of a way to get them to notice me and help me. I mean, I'm not proud to admit that I need a man and I don't plan on needing them in the future, but I don't know what to do. I don't know how to get out of this. I've tried fighting, but he is too strong and resists all of my attacks. I have tried getting other people's attention, but they didn't react and if I were to yell, no one would hear me over the volume that's blaring inside the room, even with the door shut.
We get closer to the edge of the bed. Even with my thrashing, he pushes me easily. My knees hit the edge and a shot of adrenaline floods my body and with a final thrash he loses his grip on my arm. I'm left to make a quick decision. Do I run out the door and risk him grabbing me back without anyone noticing or do I take my chances by baning on the window and hope the boys see my distress?
By the time my foot slams into his inner thigh region and he falls to the floor, I am out of the door and running outside to the unexpecting brothers. Rushing through the kitchen, I bump into people who groan or spill their drinks on the floor. The wind whips my hair around when I walk outside. Looking through the window to see if the guy is still there, my heart drops when his body is missing.
Briskly walking to the boys, I attempt to calm down to talk to them. Of course, with a racing heart and scattered thoughts, making any sentence sound logical is a challenge. So when I find them and attempt to tell them what happened, no one does anything for a few seconds. Then they all act at once, rushing through the backyard and into the house, murderous looks on their faces.
I want to tell them that it wasn't a big deal, that I am fine, but my situation could've turned out a lot differently if I had done one thing differently. I jog to try and keep up with their long strides. I don't know what they are going to do, but the looks on their faces tell me that it will not be anything good.
Then I see him and all thoughts flee my mind. When his eyes meet mine, he smirks and winks at me, freezing my movements but spurring the boys'. Everything happens so quickly. Damon throws a punch at the guy who stumbles back from the impact. Brandon is already standing behind him, holding his arms back while Damon rotates his punches from the guy's face and stomach until the guy isn't supporting his own weight anymore. I stand frozen, just watching the scene in front of me. Thinking the random guy had enough and noticing the increasing amount of eyes turning our way, I cover my face and yell at Damon to stop. At first he seems oblivious to the world around him, but after calling him a couple more times, he looks at me and I watch all the hatred and anger slip from his face, replaced by relief. He nods at me then turns back to the guy. Whispering in his ear, the guy sneers and Brandon drops him in a heap on the floor. They each stand on my side and escort me out of the house and into the cold dark night where a car is already waiting for us.
As I get in the car, I realize that while this party was not great, I have two people who I know will always have my back. But even with this thought in mind, I can't help wondering what Damon whispered to the guy and why he sneered back so maliciously. Do they know the guy?