Sillage; French: "the trail left by a boat in water, the trail of scent left behind lingering in the air by one who wears perfume"

2015

31st of December

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"Sweetie, are you ready?" Emma shouted to the bathroom while shooting herself a last check-up glance in the mirror. The cocktail dress she wore was smooth and deeply blue and nestled perfectly to her curves, her hair cascaded down her neck, the few rebellious strands were pulled back with some clips, and the black heels actually weren't too uncomfortable.

"In a minute!" Olivia's answer came in a hurried, stressed tone. "I can't find that stupid second earring!"

Emma couldn't help but chuckle. "Then put off the first one and go without earrings," she suggested, making her way to the bathroom and stopping in the doorframe.

Her friend was desperately trying to close up the zipper of her dress while also kneeling on the floor to look beneath the cupboard, and of course, it didn't work.

Emma sighed. "Come here," she ordered and stepped into the bathroom.

Olivia exhaled and stood up again. "I just can't find it," she complained as she positioned with the back to her friend. Emma grinned and smoothed some wrinkles that had formed in the creamy white fabric. "As I've said, forego them," she repeated while she pulled up the zipper.

"No, that's so not an – Ah fuck!" A strand had gotten caught. "Oh, Emma, dammit, get my hair out!"

Cautiously Emma opened up the zipper. Fortunately, the strand fell out without causing Liv any more harm and so she just gathered the hair and put it onto her right shoulder. "Thanks. What I wanted so say was that I can't possibly do without them. They're what makes this outfit complete," she further explained while Emma finally closed her dress and arranged her friend's hair back to how it was before. As she heard Livy's words, she just rolled her eyes and snorted, but didn't say anything.

"Alright, done," she announced. With a look to her watch she went on: "And we really have to go, Livy!"

"But my earring!"

Emma groaned, but then gave in as she observed the room. Finally, she spotted something glittering in one corner of the room. "It's there," she pointed at it, and Olivia instantly bowed down to get it.

"Thanks, Em, you're the best," she called out happily as she put the earring on in front of the mirror. Triumphantly, she turned to her friend. "See what I mean? It does make the difference, right?"

Emma couldn't see quite a big difference, but she just wanted to finally get going, so she just nodded in agreement and tugged at her friend's arm. "Yes, and now come on."

They weren't half way through to the door as Olivia pulled her to a stop. "What is it now? Don't tell me the earring fell off!" she turned around, rolling her eyes again.

"No, no," Liv replied, and Emma noticed instantly that this wasn't about fashion, and so she stepped closer. "It's about Finn."

Olivia's voice was quiet now, nervous, and had a slight shake to it; and Emma's features softened.

"It's going to be alright, I promise," she reassured her friend with a genuine smile, but Liv still seemed uptight.

"Do you really think so? I mean, it's New Year's Eve, there'll be fireworks and a lot of people and alcohol and honestly, absolutely anything could happen!" Emma noticed the girl was about to go into a monologue full of worries and overthought matters, and so she pulled her friend in a hug.

"Yes," she intoned, emphasizing the word as she spoke. "Liv, it's been half a year since the breakup. Sure, both of you haven't spoken much since, but Livy, it will be okay. You've been friends before, for years, remember? You can be friends afterwards as well. Maybe it will take some time, for sure, but I'm positive it's all going to work out."

Olivia tried a faint smile, a little encouraged, and Emma hugged her again.

"Ready?" she asked as she let go.

Liv took a deep breath and then shot her a smile, bigger this time. "Ready."

Harper awaited them at the front door. He held two red cups in his hands and as he pulled Emma in for a kiss, she could taste a little alcohol on his lips.

"What's in there?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and gesturing to the cups. Harper showed her a lopsided grin and held his drink up as if he wanted to make a toast, but as he recognized that she was being serious, he let his arm sink and lowered his voice. "Em, this is New Year's Eve. We're gonna have a little fun."

She sighed, not liking the fact that with every word he spoke, she could smell it. "Harper, honestly. What's in there?"

Now it was his turn so sigh. "Caipirinha. And it's really good, Em, believe me." She was still sceptical, and so he held the cup up again. "Tonight's going to be fun. You promised. Remember? We are just going to have fun."

His words hit a spot. Giving in, Emma slowly gave him a faint smile in response. "Fetch me that Caipirinha then," she declared, and both Harper and Olivia laughed.

"Drink up, me hearties yoho," Olivia exclaimed happily, clapping her hands and laughed. Harper joined in, and Emma, finally feeling some of the party vibe, did as she was told.

"It is good," she huffed as she placed down the cup in Harper's hand again. He looked at her and laughed again. "Nice reference by the way, Livy," Em congratulated with a wink and a smile. "Let's go inside."

The situation between Finn and Olivia was awkward to say the least.

For a few seconds that resembled a decade, they just stared at each other, faces blank, but some emotions somehow trembling behind the features.

"Hey Finn," Emma finally spelled out as the silence was slowly but steadily getting too uncomfortable to bear.

His eyes flickered to her and then a smile built on his lips. "Hey Emmie," he welcomed her, stepping closer. She gave him a smile as well as he hugged her.

She hadn't seen him in quite a while now, she knew that, and the sudden physical proximity only pointed it out more.

Sadly, she had admitted to herself soon after her two best friends had broken up in summer, the golden trio didn't exist any longer.

As they parted from each other, Emma mouthed the words: Please say something to her. An emotion emerged in Finn's eyes that she couldn't exactly decipher; a strange mixture of fatigue, sadness and understanding; but he gave her a quick nod.

"Hey, Olivia," he then greeted the girl standing only a few feet away. His voice sounded uncomfortable, but that was not what had made Emma flinch.

Olivia. He had called her Olivia.

"Hey," her friend quietly answered, and from the tone of her voice Emma could tell that she had noticed as well.

Olivia. Finn had never called her Olivia. Liv, Livy, even Olive sometimes. Never Olivia.

Something about the fact that he used her real name brought back the heavy burden on Emma's heart that she had felt on that particular night in June.

Right now, the situation was too much for her.

"Let's go grab some drinks, shall we, Liv?" she proposed and tried a smile, but it felt somehow weird on her lips, and so she just took Olivia's arm and dragged her along.

I'll be back, she mouthed towards Finn, as Olivia didn't look at her for a moment.

There it was again – that strange look, but then Finn forced a smile on his lips that looked not at all genuine, and Emma made her way to the kitchen.

"Honey," someone slurred from behind and put their arms around Emma's waist.

She whirled around only to find Harper embracing her in a tight hug, and instantly, she smelled the alcohol in his breath.

"God, fuck it, you're drunk," she observed and put down the cup she held in her hand on the table behind her to take a closer look at him. His eyes were glassy.

"Wha'sss abaat it?" he purred, coming closer to her face. "It'sss ffun, an' we wan'ed 'o have sssome fun, Em."

And he pulled down to kiss her, but Emma quickly turned her head so his lips only met her cheek. They were wet and sloppy.

"God, get off, Harper," she objected harshly as she felt his hands that had been on her waist before sliding down to her butt. He didn't listen, just breathed into her neck and moved his hands further down.

"You have a p-putiful assss, Em," he slurred, placing a sloppy kiss on her skin. "Lemme touch it," he whined.

Emma had enough. "I said get off!" she hissed as she felt his hands on her butt, squeezing, and she pulled out of his grip quickly.

Harper stumbled backwards, taken by surprise by that sudden movement. His eyes had grown larger. "But you promis'd we'd h've fun," he piped, and now Emma could hear some anger in his voice.

She just snorted. "Oh, piss off, Harper, you're stupidly drunk."

This only enraged him more as he once again stepped closer to her, closer, too close. His hands were on her waist again, and then at her butt, and his lips at her neck, planting kisses here and there.

"Harper," Emma cautioned, tensing. And then he sucked at her skin, leaving a love bite, and she hated it. "Harper," she repeated, now a little desperate, but he was so drunk he didn't seem to understand.

Suddenly he pulled her against a wall; but no, he was the wall in front of her, blocking her way out, and slowly, but steadily Emma found herself panicking.

"Harper, stop," she ordered, trying not to sound desperate.

He didn't. Instead, he finally attacked her lips; he kissed her in a hard, demanding manner and she pressed her lips together, but then there was his tongue, all over her mouth, wet, and she could taste the alcohol.

"Stop, please," she pled, but he only took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside her mouth, and swirled it around.

Emma closed her eyes and hoped that, when she opened them again, he'd be gone, but no, she could perfectly feel his kiss, and his hands, and then of course, he had to press his crotch against her body, and she felt the bulge in his jeans.

She felt helpless, and weak, and she didn't want this, not at all, but apparently there wasn't anything to do about it.

A first tear escaped her eye and she pressed them together in anxiety.

"Harper, no, please," she begged once again, but of course it made no difference. Instead, he began to pull at her top, trying to lift it.

"Lemme h've fun wissu," he slurred.

And Emma gave up.

Around her in the air lingered the smell of alcohol and her sweet perfume, his last words still hovered somewhere between them, and Emma found herself begging for someone to come in, anyone, to get what was going on, to help her, because NO.

No, she didn't want Harper to have fun with her.

No. No. No. She didn't want to be raped by her boyfriend.

"Someone, please," she quavered as more tears made their way down her cheeks. Once again she tried to escape his grip, but it was too firm.

It almost hurt.

No. Emma didn't need to look at it to know there was going to be a bruise. No, it didn't almost hurt. It did hurt.

The realization hit her somewhere in the stomach and she felt nauseous instantly.

Her boyfriend wasn't just drunk. He was actively hurting her, and she always thought no matter how drunk they were, a boyfriend should never hurt his girlfriend.

But there they were, he in front of her, pressing her against the wall, forcing his lips down on her and touching her on places she had never been touched yet and had not ready to be touched yet, but now, they were, and Emma understood that it was too late.

"Someone," she repeated, her voice breaking.

Harper kissed her lips again harshly, his bulge growing. Let me have fun with you.

Emma's mouth escaped a sob.

"Finn," she wept. "Finn!"