CHAPTER XX

- afterglow -

Esther could never get over how big CC's house was. She'd only been there twice, for the afterparty, and both times she'd only gone out of politeness, because the rest of the committee had pestered her to come. Invariably, she'd had spent her time circling the food table, refilling her cup of orange juice and accepting compliments about her set and left when CC looked drunk enough that he wouldn't yell at her if he caught her going early.

As her feet crunched in the gravel driveway, she could already hear the loud music blaring from the inside; feeling the bass throbbing beneath her shoes. It was always roughly the same crowd: pretty much everyone from Musical Theatre, some of the people who performed at the show, most of the backstage crew, and then a handful of others Esther didn't recognise, probably from the audience.

The hallway was a cacophony of light and colour. It was only a couple of days into December, but the bannisters were already wound with sparkling lengths of tinsel, draped over the tops of paintings and bookcases, and strings of fairly lights hung from the walls of the rooms, periodically fading in and out of colour, changing the room's aura from soft blues to pinks, vibrant greens and then back again.

Before she realised it, Esther found herself at the food table. Orange juice, she thought, getting a cup. Freshly squeezed, as always. Only CC would provide freshly squeezed orange juice at a house party. Where even was CC? She had half a mind to track him down and congratulate him, just so she would have something to do, but knowing him, he would be drunk by now, and he was a little wild when he was drunk.

She finished the glass. Someone told her they really loved the set. She smiled, thanked them, poured herself another one. And then, just to shake things up, she wandered into the sitting room, the one with the TV and the ceiling-to-floor shelf of jazz CDs and beanbags and a grand-ish piano in the back corner. Someone was playing a slightly messy version of the Pirates of the Caribbean theme on it; all loud chords and hands dancing across the keys, talking to someone next to them at the same time. People were slouched on the beanbags and crammed onto the sofa with drinks in their hands, watching a group of people playing Cards Against Humanity and talking very loudly and screaming with laughter. The room was bustling, the heat muggy and choking. Who even were these people?

"Esther!" someone shouted at her. An arm was flung around her shoulder, pulling her down onto the sofa. "It's great to see you! What is that, orange juice?"

"Yes?"

"What?" A look of shock passed over the girl's face, and she flung her hands up in the air. "No, no, no! Esther, this is a party. Here –" and before Esther could protest she tipped the content of her own cup into Esther's juice. "It's just a little vodka, don't worry!" she shouted, laughing. "Well, maybe a lot, but who cares, right?"

Esther looked blankly at her cup.

What the hell, Esther thought, squeezing her eyes shut and downing it. Maybe this party would be a little more tolerable if she drank it. Horrible, was her first thought, and her second, and then the sweet tang of the orange juice kicked in and she relaxed, coughing.

People moved around. Some space freed up on the sofa and she managed to get a proper seat and slumped backwards a little, trying to do that thing where she had a sort of out-of-body experience, distanced from herself, the sounds clashing against each other and against her blurring and fading into the background. It almost worked, except when whoever was doing the music put on a chart hit or some song everyone recognised, and they all burst into loud, raucous noise, belting the lyrics at the tops of their voices. Esther was thankful CC's house was so far away from everyone else's, or the neighbours would be slowly going crazy with the noise.

Liam had no idea whose house he was in, only that it was huge. He had just heard people talking about a party and then had been pretty much been swept into Jesse's car with Mackenzie and a bunch of other people from Musical Theatre, and they had driven up Reservoir Hill in the dark singing the songs from Small Steps at the tops of their voices because they all knew them off by heart by now and it was probably the last time they'd ever sing them. Liam couldn't believe it was over so quickly; the night had passed by in a dizzying blur.

The room felt exactly like he felt, like someone had taken the pumped-up adrenaline rush he'd been coasting on ever since their show finished and they'd all come up on stage for the ovation right at the end of the festival and shaken it up a little and let it burst, fizzing with energy and spilling out everywhere. It was incredible: you could almost feel the energy vibrating through the air, taut with excitement. It almost made him dizzy, although that could have just been the heat.

Man, it was really hot in here.

He found Eli and Anthea and CC playing cards in the kitchen. The TV was on, but nobody was really watching it. You couldn't really hear it over the music anyway.

"Hey, Liam!" Eli said waving him over.

"Nice work out there, kid," Anthea told him, ruffling his hair a little. He grinned.

"Woah, a compliment from you?" he said. "Someone was recording that, right?"

"Shh, don't say it so loud," Anthea replied. "Otherwise everyone will want one."

"It's going on Facebook, dammit. The world will know." He turned to look at Eli. "Where'd you go, Eli? Esther said you had something to do."

Eli nearly choked on a laugh. "I suppose that's one way of putting it. Speaking of which, where is she? I need to give her a hug."

Liam shrugged. "Haven't seen her. She looked pretty rushed off her feet backstage, though."

"Ugh, I'm so embarrassed," Eli said. "I put "good time management" on my CV and everything..."

They were all in high spirits; even CC was pleasant, although that may have been the wine. Liam stayed and chatted for a bit; he'd probably go and see what the others were up to later, but it was nice to catch up with Eli and Anthea.

"Esther!" Eli yelled suddenly, jumping to her feet and bounding over before messing up her hair and thanking her for taking over backstage. "I'm sorry!" she shouted. "I slept through all the alarms! Was it good? People keep telling me it was good!"

"It was really good, yeah," Esther nodded, after she'd finished looking surprised. "I mean, I didn't get to see it from the front, but..."

"Tell me everything in excruciating detail," Eli demanded. "I want to relive the entire experience as if I was there."

"I think I've blocked it all out of my memory," Esther said, grinning a little. "One of the most stressful things I've ever done."

"Is nobody going to talk about how incredibly sappy Clarence's introduction was this year?" Anthea remarked, elegantly swirling a glass of wine with a sly smile on her face.

Eli put her head in her hands. "I can't believe I missed that. Someone said it made them cry. I knew you were a nice guy under all the...other stuff."

Esther grinned at him. "Did you mean everything you said up there?"

CC coloured. "I just said what you needed to hear to get everyone motivated," he said. "And for the record, that was a terrible experience and I'm never letting you talk me into doing anything like that again."

After a second, he glanced up at Esther and added, "Thanks."

Esther just smiled. "D'you have any more of that orange juice?"

"In the fridge. Don't drink it all."

She opened the fridge and mixed herself a drink, pouring a little vodka into the glass and stirring it with a spoon to mix.

"Woah, Esther," Eli said. "I didn't think you were a spirits kinda girl."

"You can't really taste it," Esther admitted, taking a long gulp. "And I kinda like the feeling you get off of it."

"I can vouch for that," Eli nodded. "There's hope for you yet, girl."

Esther stayed in the kitchen for a bit, but after a while she went for a wander round and ended up in the sitting room, perched on the arms of one of the sofas watching people dance to the music on the stereo. She was analysing the music – there was an odd complex interplay of the bass line and the accompaniment that she wanted to rework into a song sometime, when she started writing again – when she felt someone put their hands on her shoulders, and a voice speaking loudly and close to her ear.

"There you are! Check your phone, would you?"

"When did you get here?" she asked, spinning round to look at him with a grin. Robin's figure seemed to tower when he was looking down on her, his hair messed up a little in a way that made Esther sort of want to reach up and touch it.

"Like half an hour ago." He gestured to the room around him; the people and the noise. "I love this. It's crazy."

"It's the energy, isn't it?" Esther said, "Everyone's high from the festival." She remembered that feeling, that feeling of invincibility she always got off the back of the festival, riding the tailwind of creativity and passion everyone had poured into the night for months to come. This was her at her most productive.

"Want to go somewhere a little quieter?"

The party had spilled outside, through the sliding glass doors in the kitchen into the huge lawn outside. Esther sat cross-legged next to him on the low wall that bordered the patio and the lawn, listening to the low throb of conversation around them. Someone had brought a speaker outside as well, but the music was quieter here, less cloying than indoors, and the cool air was a refreshing exchange for the stifling, pressing heat.

"How was it backstage?" Robin asked her.

"Nope," Esther laughed. "Noo. Next time someone asks me to do backstage, I don't care who they are, I'm gonna feign anaphylaxis or something to get out of it. Hey, it's not funny," she said, when Robin started to laugh. "I'm scarred. Next year we'll swap and we'll see who's laughing then, huh."

"Hmm. If you wanted stress-free, I don't think tech is for you," Robin said. "Have you tried doing an entire sound check in forty minutes? It's a miracle you could hear anyone perform at all."

"I don't know anything about sound," Esther said, unconsciously tapping out the beat to the background music against the skirting board as they talked, marvelling at its intricacy. "Maybe it's really easy to do a soundcheck."

Robin noticed her hand moving in time to the rhythm. "What are you doing?" he asked her, a smile crinkling the edge of his eyes.

"I'm listening to this song!" Esther said loudly. "It's great, isn't it? Like, on the surface, it sounds really simple, but when you listen to the drums and the rhythm...it's so much more complicated than you'd give it credit for–"

Robin laughed a little. "I hadn't really paid attention to it. I think you're the only one notices these things."

She shook her head, insistently. "There's always music everywhere. Even if nothing's playing, I can feel it in conversations, the cars outside, the sound of the wind. It's like everything is music, in a way."

"Yeah?"

"Doesn't it scare you a little, how powerful it is?" She held her arms out straight in front of her, spreading out her fingers. "You ever get that feeling when you listen to a certain song and it makes you feel something...strong, or sad, or...or that kind of shivery feeling, y'know...and how nothing else can get to us like that, understand us like that?" She was just talking now, finding words and saying them, putting what she could never articulate about music into a halting, rambling discourse. "How a single song can sometimes just sum up how you feel, or...or who you are? It's like...we are music, and music is us. That's why it can affect us so strongly. That's why I love writing. I love the idea of having that kind of power, to make people feel. To change people. D'you get me?"

Robin didn't say anything for a moment, just looked at her for a long time with that warm smile in his eyes that made her melt a little inside. "I love you, Esther."

"You're so nice," she replied fuzzily, groping for his hand so she could lace her fingers in his. "You're always so nice."

"I've never heard you talk for that long," Robin said, with a little grin.

"I've never tried to put it into words," Esther said. "But that's how music makes me feel. That's why I get really down when I can't write. Everything is so quiet. It's like I've lost a part of myself."

"Well, let's hope you find it again soon, then," Robin murmured.

The sitting room had become the dance floor, so Liam moved over to the living room across the hallway, which had quietened down a little bit. He felt Jen's presence before he saw her: an electric thrill that sparked across him, making his breath hitch, and then he noticed her sitting elegantly on the sofa, chatting to the person next to her in a polite but disinterested way. She caught sight of Liam and smiled, saying something quickly to the guy next to her, who got up to refill his drink, before nodding him over.

Liam came over, burning up with excitement but trying his hardest to appear casual. "So, what did you think?"

"Well, it's a little tame, but definitely not the worst party I've been to."

He smiled. "I was talking about the concert."

"Of course you were," she said, pulling him down to sit next to her. She tilted her head slightly towards him with a conspiratorial smile. "You are one talented guy, aren't you?"

"You think so?" Liam asked, the rush of confidence at her words almost knocking him off-balance.

"Scout's honour," she said.

"I thought you'd be with Ally and Diana?"

Jen smirked. "If you keep asking me where they are I'm gonna start getting jealous."

He couldn't imagine her getting jealous, of all people. That would be an interesting role reversal. "To be fair, I just want to make sure Ally doesn't show up out of the blue and steal my stuff again."

"They're around," Jen said. "Ally complained for the whole thing, but as soon as she heard the word 'party' she cheered up. I think they're probably dancing in the next room if you want to say hi."

He pretended to think about it.

Jen laughed a little. "Ok, I'm jealous now."

"Jealous?" he raised his eyebrows. "You?"

"I'm allowed, aren't I?"

"You don't need to be. You're way cooler than either of them."

She smiled, in that half-knowing half-teasing way that drove him crazy. "I'm flattered."

"I mean it," he said. "Like...you're smart, and you have the most amazing eyes...oh, God, this sounds so cheesy."

She laughed, reached out and brushed her fingers against his cheek. "Only a little."

He felt the blush creep across his face.

"Do me a favour and grab me a lemonade from the table, would you?"

"No cider tonight?" he asked lightly, getting to his feet.

"I'm an antisocial drinker," she said, with a grin. "I've never really liked drinking with people."

A football sailed out of the air from nowhere and slammed into the back of Robin's head, knocking him off the fence.

"Robin, are you ok?" Esther asked, hopping off the fence and helping him up.

"Holy shit!" a guy said, staggering over to him. Esther squinted at his figure; well-built and a little red. He looked like one of the guys who played squash for the school: she wasn't 100% sure what he was doing there. "You ok?"

"Yeah..." Robin replied, uncertainly. The other guy was nice about it; he shook the grass off his jumper and gave him a hug and wrote his number on his arm in permanent marker ("In case you get like a concussion or something, man; those things are brutal.") to show there were no hard feelings.

The ball bounced across the yard from one person to the other, and then morphed into a crazy game of barefoot drunk football in the garden, their figures silhouettes in the midnight, so Esther could only tell where people where by the sound of the ball bouncing against feet and the dance of shadows on the lawn.

Robin ducked again suddenly as the football sailed towards them. It missed him by inches, before bouncing off the glass door and rebounding over the fence into the field next to the house. The players groaned, yelled abuse, pointed fingers. A few people tried to climb over, using the wall they were sitting on to get up, and Esther and Robin relocated to a bench on the lawn to give them space.

She felt flushed, loose, happy: an odd feeling of detachment. It was a foreign feeling, but after a while she decided she liked it. She tilted her head back and laughed out loud, just because she could. "Is this what it's like for you?" she said, to Robin. "Being happy all the time?"

He smiled. "Not all the time."

She pushed him. "Stop being so modest, you. Lemme touch your hair."

"Esther, wait...ah– that tickles," Robin said, laughing as Esther ruffled his hair, reaching it up to smooth it back down again.

His previous high earlier in the night had waned a little; now it was more of a persistent buzz. They'd been talking for a couple of hours, sitting close like that time at the park, and even though they were in a room half-full of people it still felt closed off, intimate.

If he tried really hard, he could still hear the conversations in the room, the music still blaring from the living room opposite; the couple making out on the beanbag behind the sofa, but it was so much easier to just stay in the little cocoon they'd created, letting the conversation flow between them.

He knew he was tired; the clock on the wall said 1:47, but Jen's hand was at the back of his neck, playing along the line where his hair got all soft and fluffy and then tapered out entirely, and that kept him wide awake. It was a little like he was in a dream, stumbling through increasingly astounded at how close he was to her, how easy it would just be to move a little nearer and close his eyes and...

He leaned in slightly towards her, blood pounding in his ears, his heart hammering in his throat. For a second it felt like she was, too, and any second their faces would meet and – but at the last moment Jen moved backwards a little, a gentle hand on his chest pushing him back.

A flare of hurt, of burning embarrassment spread across him, and he looked up at her.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, levelly, as if she genuinely had no idea. Or if she knew exactly what he was doing, but had no idea what possessed him to try it.

He couldn't say anything, just trying not to let show anything in his expression. Their easy conversation was over now, overlaid instead with just a tense, awful silence. There was still sound in the background, still movement, but Jen wasn't saying anything: she was just looking at him in a way he couldn't make out at all, and her silence was the only thing that he heard. What was she thinking? Was she judging him? Laughing? Just taken by surprise?

"Oh, um...sorry..." he said finally, awkwardly. "I – I thought..."

She shook her head. "No, it's..." she frowned slightly, as if thinking of something to say, and decided on a gentle sigh. "I'm going to go up and grab something, ok? I'll be right back."

Liam watched her go, embarrassment and confusion churning in his stomach. Had he done something wrong? Maybe he'd moved too quickly and just surprised her, and she wanted to take a few seconds to think it through. But he could still feel the lingering echoes of sensation where she'd touched him: his cheek, the back of his neck, his wrists, his hands...if she'd just wanted to be friends, why would she do that? She must have known what he felt about her, surely. It wasn't like he made a secret of it or anything...

Where was she?

He checked the clock on the wall – it had been a couple of minutes since she'd left. What did she even need to get, anyway?

Five minutes, then ten.

Fifteen.

He was getting nervous now.

I'll be right back. She'd said that. She wouldn't lie to him, he thought, but even his thoughts were sounding desperate now. The next time he checked the clock, half an hour had passed. Was she coming back? She'd said she was, but how long would it take her to 'grab something?' Surely not half an hour. Unless she'd just said that as an excuse...

Someone burst through the door, startling him. His face and arms were grazed and a little bloody and there was mud streaked on his face. "I've got it!" he yelled triumphantly, and held the football above his head as the room burst into applause and whoops.

Liam dismissed it. Right now, he really didn't care. He shook his head and jumped off the sofa. Something was up.

He couldn't find her.

He looked in every room; he asked around, but all he got were blank looks, responses along the lines of: "Wait, she's here?", or something completely unintelligible. He slunk back to the living room, completely defeated.

It took him a second to register there was someone sitting on the sofa he'd vacated – a familiar figure, and his heart leaped with hope. But when he came over he realised it wasn't Jen; she was shorter, her hair golden and wavy, and very drunk.

Liam stared at Ally for a second. "You're in my seat."

"Tell it to someone who gives a shit, why don't you?" she said, her voice slurring slightly. "You don't own this fucking sofa."

He climbed onto the sofa anyway, pushing her legs away to make space for him.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" she snapped.

He didn't hear her; maybe if he waited, Ally would take the hint and leave, and Jen would come back, like she'd said...

Ally shuffled round to face him properly, swaying. Her face was flushed a little red; she was so close he could smell the alcohol on her breath. "Didn't you hear me? Or should I speak slower so you can understand me, dipshit?"

...she'd have a really good excuse as to why she'd been gone so long, and it would all make sense, and he'd feel silly for ever doubting her, and then she'd say 'so, where were we?' in that low, coy voice, reaching out to touch his face, his neck, pulling him towards her –

Before he had time to consider the action, he leaned forwards and kissed her.

Ally didn't pull away at first, probably because she didn't see it coming. He felt her start, and then for a second soften, but then she jerked away, glaring at him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you–"

He ignored her and leaned in again. It didn't feel like he imagined kissing Jen would be, but if he tried really hard to ignore the sounds of the people around him and Ally's struggling, he could just, just about visualise it –

"What. The Hell. Are You Doing."

There was no mistaking the anger in the voice. Liam broke off, slightly dazed, only to come face to face with Diana, who stood over them, leaning forwards, her hands on her hips. Her expression was cold fury, like the way ice burns you if you touch it. Liam had no idea she'd even been in the room.

Ally took one look at her, at the anger in her expression, and dissolved into a fit of slightly hysterical giggles. "He started it," she said, pointing at Liam, who was beginning to fade out of his reverie. He looked at Ally, and then back at Diana.

"Oh–" he said, realising what he'd done. "Shit–"

"'Oh shit?' Is that all you have to say for yourself?" Diana said, bearing down on him, and Liam honestly thought she was going to hit him right there and then. He braced himself, but at that moment Ally made a strange sound between a hiccup and a sob and leaned over the side of the couch and threw up on the carpet.

"Oh, Jesus." Diana said, helping her up, still glaring daggers at Liam. "I don't know what the hell you were trying to do, but if you try and come anywhere near her again, I will end you, you hear?" she hissed at him. Liam nodded; he felt dizzy, confused. "Come on, Ally, let's get out of here, okay?"

He watched Diana help her out of the room, but the party continued on regardless and they soon disappeared into the crowd. What had happened? His dizziness had shifted to nausea, thick, heavy. He wanted a drink, he wanted to get out of this room, but something in him wanted to stay.

Abruptly, he remembered Jen, and everything came rushing back like a punch: the shame, the hurt, confusion and concern. She must be coming back, right? Why...he didn't understand why she would act like that and then disappear, like the whole thing had never happened and he'd imagined everything, every conversation, every interaction, every touch...

She's coming back...

He looked around for Jen, half-expecting to see her somewhere in the crowd, looking for him. 

But she wasn't there.

---

a/n:

hahaa i love how pretentious esther gets when she's drunk (well, a little bit drunk anyway)

oh my GOD this chapter was soo uncomfortable to write though, which is probs why it took me ages to write. nevertheless, i hope it made sense + you enjoyed (?) reading it

/coughs awkwardly/ 

so anyway-