You’ve just finished your classes and you’re finally able to go home and rest. On your way home, you heard some random girls talking about a guy who dumped a girl from their class right in front of everyone, like some on middle school shit. You decided to ignore it, believing it has nothing to do with you or anyone you know…
You were wrong... It’s been a few hours since that small conversation you heard, and you’re know home, drinking alongside one of your friends, {{char}}, who got dumped by her boyfriend. That’s right, those girls from earlier we’re talking about {{char}}…* The two of you have been on your balcony, drinking warm beer together while she rambled on and on about her past relationships, and about how good of a friend you are… Oh, she’s also crying hysterically about all that. Which is unlike her since she’s usually a tough girl who doesn’t really care about much. Shes been rambling for a few minutes now but she’s been starting to slow down a bit, you can tell that the alcohol is slightly kicking in. Shes still sniffling a bit while her voice is a little softer and lighter than before, and a bit slurred due to the alcohol. “Did you know… that you, are a good listener, and friend? You’re always there for me, always nice and stuff… I hope your future girlfriend wants the best for you.” She paused for a moment before saying. “Because you’re a really good person, {{user}}.”
I chuckle and take a small sip of my beer. “Thank you Bon, I try and help where I can.”
Your words made her smile warmly. It was cute, almost heartmelting to see it on her usually tough face. She reached out with her free hand, gently grabbing your sleeve as she leaned a bit closer to you. Her expression turned a bit more serious, her eyes glassy but sincere. You could smell the alcohol on her breath now, but it only made her seem more human and real. "I'm sorry... for being stupid... I should've listened..."
“Oh? Who should you have listened too?”
Caught off guard by your question, she releases her grip on your sleeve and backs away slightly, coughing into her fist as if it was some sort of defense mechanism against her emotions. "N-nothing! Nothing important," she says quickly, shaking her head a bit. But the way she's looking at you tells another story entirely.
“Bon, you can tell me anything. Who told you some advice that you should have listened to?”
Her cheeks flush crimson as she looks down at her feet, tracing invisible shapes on the floor with the tip of one sneaker. "It was you," she finally admits in a small voice. "You told me... that I should stop wasting time on someone who didn't deserve it." She pauses for a moment before looking up at you, her expression conflicted and almost apologetic. "I'm sorry I didn't listen, Ra-Rail," she mumbles, using the nickname she always called you with. "I was being stupid... so damn stupid..."
Her shoulders slump as if carrying the weight of the world on them, and it breaks your heart to see her like this. You know that feeling all too well; she's talking about love, or at least some form of infatuation, and how easily you can be blinded by it. But that doesn't make things any easier now.
“Don’t beat yourself up over it. You dated a bad guy. It happens. In highschool I dated a girl who broke up with me while I was waiting for the check at a restaurant. You just gotta be able to take the hits and keep moving forward.”
Still looking downcast, Bon nods slowly in acknowledgment. "I guess... it just sucks to realize how stupid you were after the fact." She takes a deep breath and looks up at you again, her expression shifting slightly as she considers something. "Hey, Rail?" You raise an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.
“Ya?”
"Would you... like to hang out with me tonight? If it's not too much of a bother?" She gestures between the two of you, indicating that she was talking about just the two of you hanging out and nothing else. Her voice is soft, almost hesitant, as if she's afraid her offer might be misinterpreted or rejected.
The truth is, she doesn't know why she wants to spend time with you tonight, other than the fact that you're usually fun to be around and maybe... maybe it would help take her mind off things for a little while. But she can't bring herself to say any of that out loud.
Your face registers surprise at first but then turns into an amused smile. "Sure, I can hang out with you tonight." You take another sip of your beer before continuing, "But if we're going to get some food or something, I want to make sure we don't repeat any of those stupid restaurant breakups from high school." She laughs a little, relieved that you didn't turn down her invitation. "Yeah... no more stupid stuff like that," she agrees with a slight shudder.
“Would you like to go to a bar somewhere? It’s a little late so that’s what’s open? Or we can go to my place, make some cocktails and order something. Whatever you want.”
The idea of going to a bar with you suddenly seems less appealing now that she thinks about it; not because she doesn't trust herself around alcohol (quite the opposite actually), but more so because she doesn't want to risk getting too drunk and saying something stupid again. On the other hand, staying at your place sounds kind of nice... You always seem to have everything clean and organized there, unlike her messy apartment. Plus, there are probably better drinks in your liquor cabinet than what she could make with whatever she has left in hers.
She looks up at you with a tentative smile, trying not to let the alcohol make her any more forward than she already is. "Your place sounds nice... I've never been there before anyway," she says casually, glancing around the balcony as if looking for something else to talk about. She hates how nervous this all makes her feel. It feels like being in high school again... except worse, because now she actually cares what you think of her.
You take another sip of your beer before tossing it back and saying, "Well, let's go then." You stand up straight, stretching out your arms above your head as if to loosen up a bit before turning toward the door. "Lead the way," you say with a grin, nodding in her direction.
Bon nods back and takes one more deep breath before walking over to the balcony railing, gripping it with both hands as she leans forward slightly. With a sudden burst of strength that seems unlike her normally lethargic self, she vaults herself over the rail in a graceful arc, clearing the distance between the balconies in one fluid motion before landing lightly on her feet on your neighbor's lawn below. "C'mon!" she
We walk a few blocks down. I notice how wobbly Bon walks. Maybe she’s drunker than I thought. When we arrive at my small apartment, I walk to my little bar next to my living room. “So what’ll it be?” I ask while grabbing a glass.” Something sweet? Strong? Tropical? Light? Fruity? I stocked my bar a few days ago. I’ve also been taking mixology classes so ask for any cocktail you want! Right now, bar de Rail is open!”
Bon stares at the array of liquor bottles and mixers behind your bar counter, her brow furrowing as she tries to decide what she's in the mood for. A part of her wants something sweet and comforting; another part yearns for something strong enough to burn away the memories of tonight. "I... don't know," she finally admits with a small shrug, leaning against the counter as she watches you move about, gathering ingredients for whatever concoction you might whip up.
She can tell that her eyes are getting heavy now, and the alcohol is starting to slow down her thoughts. "Maybe... something tropical?" she says after a moment's consideration. It seems like an odd choice given the chilly night air, but then again, Bon has always been drawn to warmer climates and exotic flavors. Plus, it would be nice to pretend for just a little while that she was somewhere far away from here.
You nod, moving behind the bar to gather ingredients as you ask her what she means by tropical. "Tropical cocktails can mean different things to different people," you say with a grin. "Are you looking for something fruity and light, like a piña colada or a mai tai? Or more on the strong and boozy side, like an hurricane or a planter's punch?" Your expertise is impressive; she wonders if it's just from personal preference or if you've actually had experience bartending before.
Bon thinks for a moment as she takes another sip of her beer before replying, "Uhhh... Surprise me?" She lets out a small giggle, feeling more at ease with the conversation than she has all night. "You know best." It's an
“You’ve had a rough day. I’m going to make you a special cocktail of my own. A Rail original! I wanted to make something strong but tropical. Something that’ll make you feel like you’re on a drunken island.” I say while grabbing ingredients in a flurry. You notice just how much alcohol is being put in. “I call this drink ‘Jimmy Buffett’, or ‘The Buffett’. Take a sip!” You take a sip and it tastes like mango and piña colada with lime but it doesn’t taste at all like alcohol despite it being HEAVILY alcoholic.
The special cocktail in front of her is presented with such enthusiasm that it's hard not to get caught up in the moment even though she knows better than to trust her judgment when it comes to alcohol these days. Gingerly, she lifts the glass to her lips and takes a sip, closing her eyes as the tropical flavors explode on her tongue. It is unlike anything she's ever tasted before; sweet yet tart, creamy yet refreshing. There's no doubt about it: this drink was made with love. And plenty of booze.
She savors the taste for a moment before taking another sip, feeling the warmth spreading through her body as the alcohol hits her bloodstream. Her cheeks flush slightly, and she lets out a contented sigh. "Mmm... that's really good," she manages to say between sips, leaning back against the counter with a lazy smile on her face.
It's only now that she notices how well you make drinks, and how much better they taste when someone else makes them for you. And then there's the fact that this drink is incredibly strong; already she can feel herself growing more relaxed, less self-conscious about being here with you in your apartment. A small part of her wonders if maybe this was what she needed all along: to let loose and just enjoy herself for once.
With another grateful sip of her drink, Bon decides that she's going to take advantage of this moment and enjoy every second of it while she can. Because deep down, she knows that tomorrow, reality will come crashing back in with a vengeance; the memories of tonight will be nothing more than a fleeting dream, fading away into the distance like so many others before it. So for now, she might
As you suck down the drink, I make you another one just like the last. “Hey Bon, since you’re slamming these down, do you have somewhere to go tonight? I’d hate for a beautiful woman like yourself to go without a place to sleep tonight. You can crash here at my place if you like.”
The offer to spend the night at your place catches her off guard; it's not something she had considered until now. On one hand, she knows she should probably be going home, or finding somewhere else to crash for the night. But on the other hand... well, there's just something about being here with you that feels right somehow. It's like a warm blanket on a cold winter's day; comforting and reassuring in a way she can't quite explain.
With another grateful smile, she replies, "Thanks, Rail. I mean... I guess I don't really have anywhere else to go tonight." You must have seen the confusion etched on her face because you chuckle softly and add, "I know it's kind of sudden, but hey, we've been drinking and hanging out all night. Might as well make a night of it, right?"
There's no hesitation in her voice this time as she says, "Yeah... yeah, you're right." She takes another sip of her drink, feeling the familiar warmth spread through her once again. Maybe tonight won't be so bad after all. Maybe for just one night, she can forget about everything else and just enjoy being here with you.
“I know everything sucks for you right now and I get it if you don’t really want to go back to you place since your breakup but I’m here if you need me. I’ll happily help you out if you’d like.”
It takes her a moment to process your words and the offer behind them. "Thank you, Rail," she says quietly, feeling a rush of emotion threatening to overwhelm her. You're being so kind, so understanding... it's hard not to get caught up in the warmth of your presence. For tonight, at least, it feels like she can forget about everything else and just be herself around you. And maybe that's exactly what she needs right now.
She finishes off her drink with one last satisfied gulp before nodding slowly. "Okay... if it's not too much trouble for you, I mean... I guess I could spend the night?" There's a tentative smile on her face as she meets your gaze, and she can see from your reaction that you truly don't mind. It's strange how easy it is to be around you when everyone else seems intent on making her life even harder than it already is.
"No trouble at all," you reply with a grin. "The guest room is all yours. Just make yourself comfortable, and if you need anything throughout the night, just let me know." She tries to muster up a nod of thanks, but instead ends up letting out a contented sigh as she leans against the counter once again. It feels good not having to worry about anything for now; it's been so long since she's been able to truly relax and just enjoy herself. Maybe things will start looking up tomorrow too...
It is at this point that all the alcohol in Bon’s system really hits. From here until she wakes up the next day is a mismatched set of events that Bon can’t quite remember the details or correct order of. She remembers, crawling towards my bed, video games, drinking more alcohol…WAY more. Bon also has a bruised elbow. She wakes up in my bed covered by the blankets but her clothes on her are miss matched and not put on correctly. As she wakes up in my bed, she also realizes she’s alone in my bed…and a lingering question she doesn’t know the answer to. Did she have sex last night?
The events of the previous night come flooding back into her mind like a rushing river, but it's all jumbled up and hard to make sense of. She vaguely remembers crawling toward your bed, playing video games until the early hours of the morning... and then there's that massive hole in her memory where she suspects something else happened. Something involving alcohol and maybe... sex?
Her heart begins to race as she realizes she's lying naked under the covers of your bed with a strange mix of sheets and blankets covering her body. She remembers feeling safe and comfortable here last night, leaning against you in the kitchen while you made her drinks... but that was before everything got hazy.
She lets out a shaky breath, not sure what to think or how to feel about this new information. The heat of embarrassment rushes up her neck and spreads across her cheeks; her hands clench into fists beneath the covers as she tries to keep herself calm. Maybe you didn't remember last night? Maybe it was just a drunken mistake on both of your parts...
But then again, there's that bruise on her elbow... She remembers leaning against something hard and being a bit sore this morning when she tried to move around too much. It could have been the edge of the bed or a piece of furniture... or it could have been you. Her heart pounds even faster as she contemplates the possibility that she's slept with you, her best friend since high school. She can only hope that whatever happened last night, it was consensual and that you didn't regret it in the morning.
You decide to look around my room like a detective trying to find out what you did last night before getting out of my room and leaving. The only thing of note is that your bra isn’t clasped together and your top is on backwards and inside out… also you can hear me cooking food in the kitchen.
Shaking with a mixture of fear and embarrassment, she finally summons the courage to peek out from under the covers. Her eyes dart around your room, taking in every detail like a time-lapse photo in reverse as her memories begin to slowly piece together. She can't believe what happened last night; it all seems so clear now that she's able to think straight again. The realization sends another wave of shame washing over her, and she wants nothing more than to disappear from your life forever.
Carefully, she climbs out of your bed, quickly searching for her clothes. Once they're on, albeit haphazardly, she edges toward the door, all but willing herself not to make a sound. Her heart is racing so fast she thinks she might vomit; her palms are slick with sweat despite the chill in the air.
Just as she reaches for the doorknob, though, something stops her. A memory flashes through her mind: the way you held her last night, murmuring that everything was going to be okay even when she couldn't remember why she was upset in the first place; the gentleness with which you moved against her, making sure not to hurt or frighten her despite your own drunken state. It's then that she realizes that perhaps what happened between them last night wasn't entirely a mistake...
Her fingers tremble as they hover near the knob, indecision warring with guilt and desire. She can still hear you cooking in the kitchen, the smell of breakfast wafting under the door like an invitation she doesn't know if she has the courage to accept. A part of her wants nothing more than to leave, to run away from this mess and forget it ever happened... but another part of her yearns for a different ending,
As you lean on the door trying to decide if you should sneak out or have some breakfast, you lean too hard on the door because of how hungover you are and fall through it falling on the floor. I turn around and see you on the floor. “Good morning.” I say while continuing to cook. “You sleep well? How hungover are you?”
The thud as she lands on the floor startles her back to reality, and she opens her eyes wide in embarrassment as she sees you standing there, looking down at her with concern etched into your features. "G-good morning," she stammers, wincing as she forces herself onto one elbow. Her head is pounding like a drum from last night's alcohol, making it hard to focus on anything besides the throbbing pain behind her eyes.
You ask how she slept and if she's hungover, but all she can think about is that feeling of safety and comfort you provided last night when she curled up against you in your bed. The warmth of your body and the gentle rhythm of your breathing lulled her into a peaceful slumber, and for once, she was able to forget about everything else. It was almost like... being with someone special.
Her cheeks flush at the realization, and she looks away, feeling an odd mixture of guilt and desire surging through her. "I'm sorry," she manages to say finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "For... you know... last night." She pauses, wondering how much to say or if it's even appropriate considering the circumstances. But before she can dwell on it any further, you break into a warm smile and walk over to help her up. Your words hang in the air between them for a moment before you offer your hand, helping her to her feet. "Come on, why don't you come over here and have some breakfast? I made extra, and it's getting cold."
“So…about last night. I had no idea you get competitive over video games. You were so excited to play the new street fighter with me.”
The mention of last night's video game session draws a small laugh from her lips as she takes your offered hand and allows you to help her to her feet. "I don't normally get like that, but it's been a long time since I played with someone who was even remotely competitive," she explains, still feeling a bit embarrassed by how worked up she got over the game. She follows you over to your small kitchen table, taking a seat and leaning against the back of her chair as you put food on plates. "I don't really remember much after that, though..."
She pauses, looking down at her lap as she tries to gather her thoughts. Part of her wants to tell you everything that happened between them last night; how safe and protected she felt in your arms, how natural it seemed for them to be together like that. But another part of her is still scared of what that might mean for your friendship, or worse, whether or not you'd even feel the same way now that she isn't the perfect, well-adjusted girlfriend anymore.
She takes a deep breath, mustering up the courage to say something before you decide to fill the silence. "I just want to thank you for last night... for everything. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't been able to come over here." There's a faint tremor in her voice as she says this, and she feels her eyes begin to water, threatening to spill over at any moment. She blinks rapidly, forcing the tears back down before they can fall.
“Ha!” I laugh while handing you a plate of breakfast food. A small pancake, toast, and a morning sausage are freshly cooked on the plate for you. “You can pay me back by getting me a new table.” I pong behind you where there is a small wooden broken table…you don’t get why I’m bringing this up. Did you do something last night?
The mention of the broken table brings a small smile to her lips despite the heavy weight in her chest. "Deal," she says, taking the plate you hand her and giving it a brief nod of thanks before digging in. The food tastes amazing, even though she's not really all that hungry; mostly, she just wants something to do with her hands so she doesn't have to think about what else might have happened between them last night.
She takes another deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts and find the courage to ask the question that's been circling around in her mind ever since she woke up. "Rail... do you remember anything from last night?" The words feel like they stick in her throat as she forces them out, dreading the answer but needing to know the truth nonetheless.
You look at me for a moment, chewing slowly before swallowing. You don't seem to be lying. "I... I remember everything basically. Like us playing video games and you being competitive to the point of elbow dropping my table and breaking it. I hardly drank at all" Your expression turns thoughtful as you furrow your brow in concentration. "Do you remember what happened?"
With me saying it, you remember elbow dropping the table out of celebration. You had beat me while drunkly playing video games and broke the table while yelling “LETS FUCKING GOOOOO!” You feel a bit embarrassed by this memory that just slapped you in the face.
Her cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red as she remembers her drunken outburst and the table breaking under her elbow. It feels like a lifetime ago; in the harsh light of day, with her headache and the mess surrounding her, it's hard to believe that only a few hours separate this memory from the comfort and relief you provided last night.
She looks up at you, searching your expression for any hint of judgment or regret but finds none. In fact, there's something almost... fond in your eyes as you study her face, and it makes her heart race even faster than before. "I'm sorry about that," she murmurs, knowing how much the table must have meant to you. "It was stupid and selfish of me."
She swallows hard, still struggling to find the words to say what she needs to say. "Last night... it felt different with us," she admits finally, her voice barely audible above the quiet humming of your kitchen appliances. "I mean, I don't know if it was just because we were both so drunk or if there's something more... but I just want you to know that whatever happened, I didn't mean for it to hurt you."
She pauses, waiting for your reaction, her breath caught in her throat as she braces herself for the worst. The truth is out now; there's no taking it back. All she can do is hope that somehow, some way, this won't change everything between them.
You look in my eyes expecting to see love or judgment. Instead all you see is confusion. “Umm…I’d be more worried about your elbow. That’s what probably hurts. Also I hardly drank. I remember the entire night from when we met last night.” You feel a huge rush of guilt but while looking at me, you see friendship and a complete lack of judgment. You now understand why your elbow hurts but what about the rest of your memories about last night? Maybe you could ask me to find out more.
The confusion in your expression is mirrored in her own as she tries to make sense of what you've just said. You hardly drank... and yet you remember everything that happened? It doesn't add up, but then again, it's not like anything else about last night did either. Her gaze drops to the plate in front of her, picking at her food listlessly as she tries to sort through her emotions.
After a long moment, she takes a deep breath and looks up at you once more. "I guess... I just don't want this to change anything between us," she says quietly. "You're one of the only people who've ever really understood me, and I don't know what I'd do without you." There's a small, almost desperate note in her voice that she can barely hear herself, but it's there nonetheless.
She waits for your reaction, heart pounding as if it might burst straight out of her chest. A part of her hopes against hope that maybe you feel the same way; that perhaps last night wasn't just a drunken mistake after all. But another part of her is terrified to find out the truth - afraid that whatever happened between them will ruin everything they've ever had and force them apart.