Score: All Goes Wrong - Chase and Status

Lydia

A high-pitched noise suddenly pierces my eardrums, making my hands shoot up to cover my ears.

To no avail. The noise continues to deafen me.

I slowly move my eyes away from Patrick towards Mark, until my eyes are locked with his. And what I see in there nearly sends me to my knees.

So much pain and remorse is streaming from those golden-brown oceans, illuminated by the headlights of the car, that it is almost palpable in the air.

My heart twitches with hurt for the boy that's standing in front of me. He looks devastated. The rain is soaking his hair, gluing it to the sides of his head, and some wet strands are falling over his forehead and into his eyes, making him look even more miserable. I have the sudden urge to pull him into a smothering hug and take him inside Gloria's house to dry up.

And then, slowly at first, but picking up momentum, like a huge wave in the open ocean, realization washes over me, pulling me under and dragging me to the depths, where only darkness and despair reside.

Because it's not him I should be feeling this pain for. I shouldn't be feeling sorry for him at all.

I should feel hurt and betrayed myself.

Suddenly, I feel all the pain, crashing all over me and around me, consuming my tiny little world, extending only to the pool of light, created by the Uber's headlights.

"Please, Lydia, let me explain..." Mark seems to have finally found his words again.

"Is it true?" Is all that I can say.

Mark opens his mouth and then closes it, his lips pursing into a tight line. A deep frown mars his face, his eyes two slits.

I can't see inside them anymore.

A second passes, then another, but he doesn't say anything.

"It's true," I hear a voice from behind my back.

I slowly turn around and see Nate, standing on his feet now, with Alex, Gloria, and Liam at his sides. He's looking at me with so much sympathy that I'm instantly feeling guilty for back-kicking him in the balls.

I hope I didn't inflict any damage.

Wait, how does he...

"I was there," he says as if reading my mind. "In Italy."

"What, this summer?" I feel really dumb. As if I'm late to a party and am left out on something scandalous that happened that everybody is engrossed in conversation about, but nobody seems to care enough to explain to me.

"No, Lydia," Patrick cuts in.

"I'm not fucking talking to you!" I scream at him.

I look back at Nate, nodding my head toward him, encouraging him to continue.

"No, Lyds. In Italy two years ago. On our trip. Remember the night we played poker and you guys were bored and went to the bar?" He nods at his girlfriend and then in my direction. "We stayed behind and they continued playing," Nate tilts his head towards Mark and Patrick now.

I gasp as sharp pain tears at my chest. As if a piece of broken glass is slicing my heart into ribbons. My throat constricts and hot tears from pain start stinging my eyes.

Two years?! Two fucking years?

Nate must have noticed the change in my composure, because he is just staring at me, hesitant to continue.

"Go on," I say, my voice thick with tears. Nate's eyes dart to his side to where Alex is standing for support.

"It was in the final round. They kept raising their bets, and I...I don't really remember, but Patrick made some crazy raise that Mark couldn't call...so he put you up as a bet instead. I'm pretty sure he told Patrick to piss off if he lost. Patrick agreed, but only if Mark accepted the same bet. He also insisted on keeping the money up, as well, as a guarantee."

The world starts spinning before my eyes. I feel the sharp piece of broken glass stabbing at my chest again and again, until there is no air in my lungs and no heart inside my ribcage. I feel like my legs are going to betray me any minute.

Suddenly, I feel a hand on my shoulder, steadying me. Shook up from the sudden sensation, I turn around so quickly, I'm afraid I might have sprained my ankle, only to be faced with Mark's face, twisted into a painful grimace.

"Please, listen to me, Lydia, please, let me explain..."

"How much?" I hear my own voice come out of my mouth, hoarse and full of icicles.

Confusion washes over Mark's face.

"How much did you bet me for?" I'm not even sure if I want to hear the answer to that question, I'm just too nervous to keep my mouth shut. Even if it means reading my own price tag.

"Please, Lydia, don't do this, baby," Mark's hand reaches out and grabs me by the bicep. "Let's get out of here. Let's go to my dad's house, and we can talk there."

"How much, Mark!" I yell at the top of my lungs.

Mark drops my arm, clearly taken aback.

Pussy.

Both of them are pussies. Patrick, Mark. They'll be burning in their special personal hell when I'm done with them.

"Fifty thousand pounds," Mark finally says.

"Oh, God!" I hear Gloria exclaim behind my back, at the same time as Liam whistles and Alex sucks in a sharp breath.

But that number does nothing for me. It doesn't make me feel anything. I just bite my lower lip and nod. Like, I have finally been let in on the details of what happened at the party, only to find out it was me, who everybody was laughing at.

Fifty thousand pounds.

"And?" I ask, my voice calm.

"And, I lost, and I had to walk away from you, and then the pandemic hit, and I...I didn't see you for years and I...I love you, Lydia. I always have, and I didn't realize it back then, but I loved you even then. When I kissed you on that stupid dare, I realized how much I cared about you. God, I didn't even know how much you meant to me back then," his head drops between his shoulders and he shakes it slightly, droplets of water falling from the strands.

A cruel, high-pitched laugh rolls off my throat.

"And here, I never thought I'd agree with Patrick on anything, no offense, babes," I turn my head, half-facing Patrick with a scoff. "But, yeah, I must be fucked in the head, if I ever thought you loved me." I shake my head.

Hurt blooms anew on Mark's face and I almost feel pity for him again.

"Lydia, baby, I do love you, you have to know that. I love you with all my heart, baby, please, let's just talk about this somewhere quiet."

"You don't love me, Mark! You don't even know what love is! You just want to own me, so that you can have me, or bet me, or sell me off...Just like my dad!"

The hurt in his eyes is twisting my heart, wrenching all the pain and bitterness from it.

"You finally get it, Lydia," I hear Patrick's voice from behind my back. "He never really cared about you. He was just bitter because he lost that stupid game. The third hand he'd ever lost. And it was you, his best friend, as he said that night. I guess he couldn't move past it, and he only wanted to spite me. It's just a shame that you took the bait, but you've always just wanted to be loved. To be rescued. Like a fucking damsel in distress."

"Shut the fuck up, you twat!" Mark yells, shouldering past me and walking towards Patrick. I turn around and grab his arm. He jerks his head backward, turning to face me. His jaw is flexed in an unnatural way and his teeth are bared, making him look like a wild animal. "Let me go, Lydia! I'm going to fucking kill him!"

Alex, who has been standing silently by Nate's side until now, steps forward and raises her arms, standing between Mark and Patrick.

"Boys, boys, we're all adults here, let's be reasonable..."

"Reasonable? Oh, I am reasonable enough! I am not the one, sleeping with other people's girlfriends!" Patrick yells.

"You two broke up! She's not your girlfriend anymore!" Mark takes another step forward, but I'm still gripping his soaked hoodie tightly.

"I know you fucked her after prom, you prick!" Patrick jumps to his feet. Alex takes a step closer to him, trying to calm him down.

"Look, Patrick, I am sorry you had to find out like this. I...never meant for any of this to happen..."

"How do you put your dick inside a woman, without meaning it to happen, Mark?"

"I am sorry, okay? I didn't mean to cause problems between you two, but I think you and I both know it wasn't me that was the problem! I stayed away for two fucking years, man! You know I did! I never meant to break our deal!"

"Don't you dare throw this at me, dickhead! You didn't come back only because it was impossible to travel! I'm sure you would have done it sooner if you had the chance! And now look what's happened! Lydia and I were just fine before you showed up!" Patrick's hands are clenched into tight fists at his sides. He looks like he's ready to lunge for Mark.

"Really? Well, it didn't seem that way to me! She needed someone to be there for her, Patrick, because she was left completely alone to cope with stuff nobody should be dealing with by themselves! Where were you?" Mark jerks his arm with more force than I can withstand this time, pulling away from me and taking a step towards Patrick. They are now effectively caging Alex in between their bodies.

"We both had a lot going on, this doesn't mean I screwed around on her while trying to figure my shit out!"

"Do you listen to yourself? Where were you the night Gloria's mum went to the hospital? Where were you when Lydia was trying desperately to hold it together, before her exams? Where were you on Gloria's birthday? I haven't seen you around more than a couple of times this whole summer, and neither has she, man! Lydia was always alone, always trying to get a hold of you!"

"Well, she seems to have gotten a hold of you instead!" Patrick's voice is dripping with poison and I can hear his unpleasant smirk, even though I can't see it. "You know what, Mark? You can have her! You can have all of her, all the drama, all the shit, all of her fucked up family! I am perfectly fine to walk away with my money. Do you know what it's like dating her? It's like dating them all, her drunk of a father, her suicidal mother, all of her baggage! It's like a never-ending damn reality show! I am sick and tired of all the fucked up shit that's constantly going on with her and her friends!"

"Hey, asshole!" Gloria yells, clearly appalled by Patrick's harsh words.

"Maybe I am sick of you, too, Glo! Maybe I'm just sick of you and your constant partying, and your coke-head of a mother...Good thing that in a couple of weeks I won't have to see any of you fuck-ups ever again!"

"I am going to kill you, you prick! How dare you! You are on my fucking grounds!" Gloria yells. Liam grabs her by the sleeve of her soaked hoodie just in time to stop her from jumping on Patrick's back.

She stops in her tracks and looks at me, the tears flowing hot on my cheeks, mixing with the cold rain, the pleading in my eyes, begging her not to do it.

"You have to go, now!" I hear Mark's voice, full of determination. I somehow relax, hearing his voice, even though I know I shouldn't.

He's just as bad as Patrick, Lydia. If not worse. Don't fucking forget that!

"Fine, I'll go! You can have her all you want, but know that she'll drag you down with her! And, also, Mark, know that I fucked her first! Do you hear me? You might have been the first to kiss her, but I was the first to have her! You can have her now, all worn out! You know what they say, Mark, one man's trash is another man's treasure."

"That's it!" Gloria's scream makes us all turn toward her. She looks like she's about to lose her shit.

I know that I should be losing my shit right now, but I just can't make myself care. I know that I should be upset and hurt by Patrick's words, but I can't feel anything anymore.

It's just like when my mum took all those pills. Like the override of pain has sent me into shutdown mode. Like I'm not even a part of this whole scene, but I'm observing it from aside, like some sick form of entertainment.

"You son of a bitch!" Gloria screams again and yanks her arm free from Liam's hold, stomping her feet towards Patrick. I hear a loud slap echo through the night, the sound of wet skin hitting wet skin only multiplied by the ringing still piercing my eardrums.

"Leave! Now! Get out of my property or I will fucking kill you!" Gloria continues to deliver echoing slaps to Patrick's smirking face. When he decides he's had enough, Patrick grabs Gloria's flying hands in the air, before she can hit him again.

"Gloria, get back here!" Liam tries to keep his voice calm, but is failing miserably.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" Gloria yells again and Liam finally closes the distance between them, grabs his girlfriend through the middle, and lifts her up, flinging her over his shoulder.

"LET ME GO! LET ME FUCKING GO! I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!" She keeps on yelling, as her feet kick in the air and her fists pound against Liam's back. He walks her to a safe distance, before setting her to her feet and grabbing her by the shoulders.

"Calm down, baby!"

"Leave now, or I am calling the Police!" Gloria yells over Liam's shoulder.

Patrick lifts his hands up in front of his chest in a defensive gesture.

"I'd like nothing more than to just get my money and leave," he says, looking as if he's won the lottery.

Well, I guess, in a sense, he has. He got to walk away from my fucked up family and all the drama, as he said, and with good money on top of that.

"I don't have it on me, prick! We just got back from Greece, what do you think, that I'm carrying around fifty thousand pounds, in cash, across airports and international borders?" Mark says, stepping forward.

"Lead the way, then," Patrick says, walking around and climbing inside the Uber.

I bet the driver will be so pissed, having someone, who just spent fifteen minutes, sitting in a puddle on the ground in the rain, in his back seat.

Mark turns to face me, but I'm deliberately avoiding his gaze.

"I will be back, Lydia," he says. Even though I'm not looking at him, I know his eyes are glued to my face. "Please, baby, just say something. I'll be back and I want to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," I say, not moving my gaze away from the small puddle on the ground. The rain has now subsided to a light drizzle and droplets are falling into the puddle more and more scarcely.

Mark clacks his teeth and walks past me, turning his face away, as he climbs into the car himself.

The car turns in the driveway, the headlights illuminating my friends, standing across from me, before it glides down Gloria's driveway, screeching over the wet gravel. I stare at the taillights until they disappear around the corner.

And when they do, something finally breaks inside of me, and the pain sends me to my knees. I cover my eyes with my hands, not wanting my friends to see me cry anymore. They've seen me weak enough.

Before I realize what's happening, I hear feet shuffling around on the wet gravel, and I feel half a dozen arms wrap around me, shielding me from the rain.