"let it hurt
until it can't hurt
anymore."

The Give & Take Festival was bigger than I had expected.

So many people had crowded us by the time we were done setting up our booth. It was a little overwhelming--one reason why I always disliked such festivals--but it was a good distraction.

It was a little disgusting too, the reds and the pinks and the hearts right where it said The Kissing Booth in big, bold letters. I was beyond relieved that I wouldn't be inside of it though. But at the same time, a small part of me was kind of disappointed too. There was this barrier inside of me; it felt like I shouldn't kiss anyone, not like that. Never like that. But why? This could be the night I finally let loose. For once, in so long, I could breathe properly. Kiss someone who didn't have those grey eyes. Just let the heartache go away.

At least for a little while.

No. It'll only get worse if I do that.

"Earth to Lia!" I nearly jumped in surprise, facing Nora--who was trying to muffle a laugh when she saw my reaction--with a frown. "Sorry, you seemed so lost in your head. People are queuing up, you know."

"I know." I nodded, stuffing my hands in my red sweatshirt pockets. Everyone was wearing red alongside me, like the colour of our sparkly booth. "Hey, I was wondering..."

"Yes?" asked Nora, raising her brows when I trailed off.

"What if I get drunk tonight?" My voice came out quiet, while my gaze trailed away from Nora's face to one of the drink stalls around the other corner. I'm pretty sure someone had brought in alcohol in all this. Wasn't that how every college event went?

It was almost comical, the way Nora's expression changed in those next few seconds. First came the obvious confusion, morphing into surprise when she furrowed her brows, and then she broke out laughing.

"Dude, what?"

"Just saying." I shrugged. I shouldn't get drunk, I knew I shouldn't. But would it be so bad if I did get drunk? Would it be so bad if I let loose for one night?

"You've never been drunk in your whole life before." She stated in a matter of fact way.

"I'm just saying," I repeated, not caring to point out that I had indeed gotten drunk once before (or at least tried to).

And Alastair hadn't been happy with that, I reminded myself.

"This booth is kind of stressing me out. So, hypothetically speaking, if I by any chance see someone carrying around drinks, I might get wasted. And since you are such a great friend of mine, you should, you know, make sure nothing happens to me." I added, breaking out of my thoughts.

Nora stared at me in silence, before furrowing her brows again.

"Not if I get drunk first." She spoke up. "Lia, come on. You know I'm such a lightweight. I won't be able to take care of you."

Which was bad, I guess.

It didn't however stop me from taking one of the drinks from Steph, a few hours later, when she came stumbling towards me from inside the booth, all giggling but looking way less tipsy than both Tara and Nora. I knew that because I had peeked inside the booth a few seconds ago and nearly gagged at what I saw Tara and Nora doing in there. No one had warned me that kissing booths were also the perfect spot for full-on make-out sessions.

"Lia," Steph stopped right in front of me, passing me a tall glass of something that looked like champagne to me. Who in the fucking hell was selling out champagne here? "Want some?"

"Uh no." I shook my head. "I think I'll pass."

"But Nora told me you wanted to get wasted?"

I shook my head again and sat down on one of the folding chairs someone had brought out for me. The sky was dark up there, too dark with just the festival lights glowing around us. There was something about nighttime, I realised, that freaked me out a little. The feeling of letting go of another day. The feeling of letting go.

"Hey, you okay?" Steph spoke up again and I realised she was still there.

I nodded and forced a small smile on my lips.

"I was thinking..." Steph started, leaning a little against my chair.

"That's never a good thing."

"Ha ha." She rolled her eyes, despite the excited gleam in her eyes, and placed the tall glass on the small table beside me. "There's this art exhibition going on tonight. And I...well, I wanted to check it out. Will you come with me?"

I tried raising a brow at her but it probably must've been both. "You do know that if we leave, we'll be leaving Tara and Nora with the whole booth, right?"

"There are other volunteers too. Didn't you see Jude and Alicia back there?"

"Alicia is here?" I scrunched up my nose at her.

Steph ignored it. "Look, it'll be nice and quiet. Don't you want to get out of here?" She looked expectant. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised since she loved art exhibitions. It wasn't usual though that we had art exhibitions in this town. The town next to ours, yes, but not here.

That must be why she looked so hopeful right now.

"Okay." I shrugged, because yes, I so wanted to get out of here. "But you should tell Nora before we leave, just in case. And you better get someone here at the front because...people are still coming here for the tickets."

Steph squealed, literally squealed, when I agreed and attacked me in a hug, nearly making me topple down from the chair.

"I'll be back in five." She shouted out loud amidst the loud chatter around us before making her way back inside the booth.

She shouldn't have done that. Left me alone with the tall glass of that seriously expensive looking champagne, I mean. Because right then I saw Noah somewhere in the crowd in front of me, and our eyes locked for the briefest moment.

He was coming here, I figured. And God, I was tired of confronting him again and again and acting like this wasn't bothering me in the slightest. That's exactly why I picked up the glass and chugged down the whole drink, hoping to get myself all buzzed up and forget this, forget all of this just for one night.

I was doing exactly what Alastair wouldn't want me to do.

No wonder he left you, the voice spoke in my head again. I was a pathetic, clingy mess. A mess, that's what I was. I wasn't even letting him go. The only amount of peace I could give him was to let him go. But I wasn't even doing that. I was still miserably holding onto him.

And I was destroying myself.

The sudden buzz settled within me and I felt strangely calm. Not as jittery as I felt a few moments ago. Which was bad, I realised. I didn't even know what it was in that drink. I didn't particularly find it in myself to care at that moment though. Not when I saw Noah making his way towards me. Not when I stood up first to meet him halfway there.

"Hey," I spoke up, surprised at how steady my voice came out. It was busy around us and I felt just a little tipsy. It had grown strangely less cold than a few seconds ago too. Calm and steady, nothing felt so overwhelming anymore.

Noah seemed surprised. Probably because I was the one who started the conversation this time--something that I hadn't expected from myself either.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him, then frowned a little. What kind of question was that even? I even went as far as to let my eyes dangerously rake down his form. His soft brown curls. His equally soft eyes. Dangerous, this was so dangerous.

He smirked. "Woah, so you're talking to me then?"

"I wasn't before?" I raised my brows in question.

He chuckled at that. "Right, you were. I just thought to, you know, check out the booth everyone's so excited about here." He was still smiling. "And the hot ladies too."

"Oh." I think I was smiling too, because I saw his gaze flickering down to my lips just for a fleeting moment, before coming back to my eyes. I was smiling, but did I feel it? "And?"

"And?" He asked, stepping a little closer towards me.

I didn't step back. I wanted to, I really knew that I should, but I didn't. Instead, I craned up my neck to look at him.

"Did you find the hot ladies?"

He chuckled again and I hadn't realised how close he had come towards me, not until I felt his warm breath grazing my cheek. "Kind of. Yeah."

"You know," I said, pausing for a second. "I'm drunk."

I don't know why I told him that. Maybe because a tiny, sober part inside of me was hoping that he'd move away? That he'd respect my utter drunkenness? I didn't know for sure. Everything around me was blurring away, moving far far away. I wanted to lose myself in the air around me, just for a little while.

"I know." He replied. Maybe that should've made me hate him. Maybe that should've made me shove him away from me. But I was drunk and I didn't care at that moment. I didn't want to care at that moment. I barely even remembered my mum's warning when she had asked me to be back home by midnight tonight. I wasn't sane enough to care about such things. I was drunk with thoughts and memories and sadness, and I wanted to stop myself before I drowned in all of it.

I wasn't sober. I wasn't sober enough to hate Noah.

That's why I kissed him. I kissed him really hard. And he kissed me back just the same. It was all lips and teeth and tongue. His hands were grabbing my waist and god, I wished just for a tiny second that I could feel the familiarity in this. Any sort of familiarity.

I wished I had my Alastair. I wished it was him here. Because it ached right where my heart was supposed to be. It ached because he wasn't here and I hated it.

He wasn't supposed to leave me. He told me that he wouldn't. We'll make it last forever. That's what he had said. And here we were now, here I was.

All alone without him.

Threading my fingers into Noah's curls, I pulled him closer. I kissed him more and more until I was hot, hot, hot and out of breath. Until I couldn't see those grey eyes behind my closed eyelids anymore. Until I couldn't feel the familiar softness of his lips. Until I couldn't--

"My God." Steph's loud voice rang in my ears and I pulled away from Noah quite abruptly. "Oh my fucking God."

It was like ice-cold water, the sudden realisation that hit me at that moment. Everything came back as I stepped away from Noah; the noise, the cold, the constant sick feeling, everything came rushing back. I stared at Steph and opened my mouth, probably about to explain, when her gaze drifted from me to Noah. Then she broke into a laugh.

"Goddammit, Lia. I literally came out of the booth because of the atmosphere in there, oh Lord. And now here too?" She looked confused, entertained, and everything in between.

Noah was grinning too, I realised. And his eyes were on me.

I had this sudden feeling that I was going to throw up.

"Shouldn't we..." I cleared my throat when just a whisper came out. "Didn't you say we were leaving?" I asked Steph, not even looking at Noah once.

I kissed him. I kissed Noah. No. No. No. Please no.

Steph sobered up and nodded. "Sorry, Noah." She said, "But uh, I gotta interrupt this little...whatever you both were doing."

A small grimace nearly escaped my lips, but I held it in.

"No problem." He said. I felt his hand on my back and I hated it. I hated him. I hated myself. "I'll see you later, Lia."

And then he was gone. Everything was gone.

I looked up at Steph. "So, about that drink you gave me. Can I have another one?"

******

By the time we reached outside the small art studio where the exhibition was going on, I felt way more than just tipsy.

"It feels like I'm gonna throw up," I mumbled, heavily leaning against Steph's side as we walked across the almost deserted street.

Steph was practically jumping up with the excitement and seemed way less drunk than me. She stopped walking, pulled me to a halt too, and faced me.

"Hey, about what I saw earlier." She said. I merely raised my brows at her. "You know, what uh...you and Noah were doing."

I remained silent.

"Does Nora know?" Steph asked, her voice falling to a concerned whisper.

"She broke up with him." I deadpanned.

Steph nodded. "Yeah, I know that. But still, you know, the whole rumour about you and him that went on months ago. Do you think it's wise--"

"Whatever." I cut her off, trying to wave off the subject. I didn't want to talk about Noah. "I kissed him because I was drunk. Am drunk. Don't worry about it, Steph."

She nodded a little more slowly this time.

"Would you regret it once you're sober?" Her voice came out soft, tentative. As if she was scared that I might snap at her. Or break. I think I was a little afraid of breaking too.

I would, I realised. I would regret this so much once it all settles in.

"Should I?" I asked her instead.

Steph stared at me. She stared at me for a very long time.

"I don't know. He carries drama with him. All the time. I just don't think you're in a state these days...to be involved in such drama."

I knew she was right. And I also knew how bad it was going to go once I was sober enough to think about all of this. I'd spiral down. It would get so much worse. Funny how I thought nothing could get worse than my current situation.

"But let's forget it for now." Steph smiled, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Let's go see some art."

They were beautiful. The paintings, I mean.

It was a large, spacious studio, despite it looking so small from the outside. The exact opposite of the festival; it was so quiet here. I think I was shivering by the time both Steph and I had made our way across the bright, lit up hallway.

The art was beautiful. I couldn't really focus on the paintings though, not enough to actually appreciate them. Under normal circumstances, I would've been in awe just as much as Steph. I loved paintings. Sometimes, I loved painting too. But all I was doing right now was making sure not to stumble into the other few people around us.

Steph was ecstatic, though. A small, faint smile formed on my lips as she ranted and almost tore my ears off as we walked from one painting to another. It was one thing to appreciate paintings in general, but I could never match the level of enthusiasm Steph carried for art.

I liked this place. I liked how quiet it was compared to the festival.

"What do you guys think about the paintings?" It was a woman with a warm, welcoming smile who asked us that. She was nearly the same height as me, but with fiery red hair. Almost like fire, I realised, as I stared at her. She was beautiful. Especially her emerald green eyes.

"They are beautiful!" Steph exclaimed in a hushed whisper. "Are you the painter behind these all?"

The woman nodded and her smile seemed to widen a little. "Yes. Yes. I wasn't expecting to attract college students. I'm Andrea, by the way."

"Stephanie," Steph said, then nudged me with her elbow. "This is my friend, Lia."

Friend, I repeated in my head. She used to introduce me as her best friend before. Weren't we still best friends?

Andrea's gaze drifted from Steph to me and I think I saw her smile faltering a bit, but perhaps it was just the drunken haze I was in.

"Nice to meet you both," Andrea said, holding out her hand. Steph shook it first and then I did, forcing a little smile on my face. "Is your name Ophelia, by any chance?"

I blinked in surprise, frowned a little, then shook my head. Steph seemed to glance at me since she knew I was lying. But she respected my decision enough to stay quiet.

"Nope." I shook my head again. "It's just Lia," I told her, passing her a smile and pulling my hand away from hers.

"Oh." Andrea nodded, though I saw this sort of something flickering in her bright green eyes. "I'm sorry. This must seem weird. I just thought you were someone...I heard about."

Weird. I think I said that out loud when Andrea and Steph both chuckled.

"Small town," I added.

Andrea and Steph got indulged in another sort of conversation after that. Andrea took us towards her more prized paintings and I saw Steph nearly drooling in awe. It was a nice place to be at, but I was slowly starting to feel a little beyond just lightheaded. And the need to throw up was growing more and more. I felt a little sick.

"I'm gonna throw up," I announced.

Both Andrea and Steph looked at me, stopping their line of conversation short, and I think I got the attention of a few other passersby too.

"Are you all right?" Andrea seemed concerned, almost in a motherly way. Understandable since she looked right about my mum's age.

Mum, I thought. She'd be so pissed off at me tonight.

"I'm gonna throw up," I repeated idiotically, which came out as a murmur this time.

"Oh no," Steph muttered and stepped towards me. "I knew that second round wasn't a wise idea." Drinking was never a wise idea, I wanted to tell her. Not when you drank just to escape away from your pathetic little problems.

Andrea opened her mouth, probably realising she had a very drunk fellow inside her studio, but I beat her to it.

"I'm gonna go outside. I'll wait for you there, Steph." I told her.

"Or you can go upstairs," Andrea suggested. "There's a bathroom upstairs."

Steph seemed to agree with her.

"Is it yours?" I asked Andrea, frowning just a little.

"Not really. I've got someone staying up in the apartment. But still--"

"It's fine." I cut her off. "I'll be fine. Come outside when you're done, Steph. It was...it was nice meeting you, Andrea."

And then I turned around and tried making my way outside. It was hard, really really difficult when I nearly stumbled into two middle-aged people. But I somehow made my way outside and I nearly slumped against the concrete wall.

It was colder out here. I cursed slowly under my breath, shivering under the dark, cold night.

I was all alone here. The entire street was empty, dark and isolated. I started growing a little restless and scared as I looked around, and then I groaned when something churned in my stomach.

Leaning back against the wall, I closed my eyes shut and scrunched up my forehead.

"Oh God," I murmured in a low voice. This was definitely not how I had imagined tonight to go. Why did I keep on making such stupid mistakes?

A fucking mess, that's what I was.

"Hey," I heard a wary voice from somewhere on my left. "Are you all right?"

I frowned. Not because I didn't want some random stranger to check up on me. It wasn't even because I was truly starting to hate that one specific question everyone kept asking me all the time. But rather it was because that voice sounded familiar, even if everything seemed to be slowly spinning inside my head at that particular moment.

"Yeah, I'm all righ--" I turned around towards the person, waving my hand in a dismissive gesture, only to stop dead in my tracks.

Then I was stumbling back into the wall, feeling the rough concrete digging into my back, and I think I had my hand over my heart--which had almost immediately started beating a little too loudly.

Oh God. No. No. No. Not again.

Alastair. It was Alastair.