Chapter 2: Girls’ Night Gone Wrong

Emily’s POV

I stared at myself in the mirror and barely recognized the girl looking back.

The tight black dress Kara lent me hugged every curve, short enough to make me tug at the hem nervously. My eyes were still puffy from crying, but I’d managed to cover most of the redness with makeup.

Lip gloss, mascara, a little highlighter on my cheeks. I looked… hot. And completely wrecked at the same time.

“I look like a girl who’s about to make bad decisions,” I muttered.

Kara appeared behind me in the mirror, grinning as she adjusted one of my straps. “That’s the whole point, Em. Tonight you’re allowed to be reckless. Just a little.”

I forced a smile, but it felt fake. My chest still ached like someone had punched a hole right through it.

“Come on,” Kara said, grabbing my wrist. “The cab’s waiting. Icebreaker is going to be packed tonight.”

The club was only ten minutes from campus, but the moment we stepped inside, the noise and lights hit me like a wave. Heavy bass vibrated through the floor. Colored lights swept across the crowd. Bodies moved together on the dance floor, laughing, grinding, forgetting their own problems. I suddenly felt small and out of place.

Kara didn’t give me time to overthink. She pulled me straight to the bar, ordered two shots of tequila, and slid one toward me.

“First one’s for courage,” she said, clinking her glass against mine. “Bottoms up.”

I didn’t even hesitate. The liquid burned down my throat, warm and sharp. I coughed, eyes watering, but immediately reached for the second one.

“Easy,” Kara laughed. “Pace yourself.”

The second shot went down smoother. A pleasant buzz started spreading through my body, softening the sharp edges of my pain.

We found a small table near the dance floor. The moment we sat, the words spilled out of me like I’d been holding them behind a dam all evening.

“I walked in smiling, Kara. I had that painting in my hands, the one I stayed up until three in the morning finishing. And there he was… with her on his lap. Kissing her like I didn’t even exist.” My voice cracked.

“His hands were on her waist exactly like he used to hold me. Same way. Same everything.”

Kara listened quietly, stirring her drink with the tiny black straw. Her expression grew darker with every word.

“I keep asking myself what I did wrong,” I continued. “Was I too quiet? Too focused on my paintings? Did I not give him enough attention? Was I… not enough?”

“You stop that right now,” Kara said firmly, leaning forward.

“This is not about you being lacking. This is about Lucas being a selfish asshole who couldn’t keep it in his pants. You’re kind, talented, and loyal. He’s the one who messed up.”

I nodded, but the doubt still gnawed at me.

The alcohol was working its magic, loosening the tight knot in my stomach. I ordered a strawberry cocktail — sweet, strong, and easy to drink. Then another.

As the third drink settled in, memories flooded in without warning.

I remembered the first time Lucas came to my art studio. He’d stood there in his hoodie, looking completely out of place among the paint splatters and canvases, but he stayed for two hours. He asked real questions about my work.

When I showed him the painting I was struggling with, he said, “It already looks perfect to me.” That night he’d kissed me so gently against the studio door, like I was something precious.

I remembered how he used to wait outside my evening classes with hot chocolate in winter. How he’d listen to me ramble about color theory and brush techniques even though his eyes would glaze over sometimes. He made me feel seen. Like I didn’t have to be anyone else.

And now? All of it felt like a lie.

Kara suddenly stood up and grabbed my hand. “Enough sitting. We’re dancing.”

I tried to protest, but she was already pulling me onto the crowded floor. The music was loud, pulsing, alive.

Kara moved like she belonged there, laughing and spinning me around. For a few minutes I tried to follow her. I raised my hands, swayed my hips, let the bass guide my body.

“I need another drink,” I shouted over the music.

Kara’s smile faded a little. “Em, you’ve already had three. Maybe slow down?”

“I’m fine,” I lied, heading back to the bar anyway.

I ordered a stronger cocktail this time, something blue and icy that tasted like candy but hit hard. I finished half of it in one long sip. The room started to feel warmer, softer around the edges.

My thoughts grew fuzzy, but the pain in my chest felt further away. Like it belonged to someone else.

Kara followed me, worry clear on her face. “Talk to me. What’s going through your head?”

I leaned against the bar, the cold marble pressing into my back. “I gave him everything, Kara. I trusted him completely. And he just… threw it away for some random girl in a café.” My voice turned bitter.

“Maybe I was boring. Maybe that’s why he looked for someone else.”

“You are not boring,” Kara said, squeezing my shoulder.

“You’re creative and sweet and you see the world in colors other people don’t even notice. He’s the blind one.”

Kara watched me closely. “I’m serious, Em. I don’t want you waking up tomorrow regretting this. Getting drunk won’t erase what happened.”

“Maybe not,” I said, taking a long sip.

The sweetness coated my tongue. “But it makes it hurt less right now.”

We went back to the dance floor. Kara tried again to pull me into the music, singing along to the songs, making silly faces to make me laugh.

I finished my fourth drink and set the empty glass on a high table near the edge of the dance floor. The club spun gently around me, lights bleeding into one another. My heart felt raw but strangely lighter.

I looked at Kara, who was still dancing a few feet away, then leaned in close so only she could hear.

“If Lucas can kiss someone else like that…” My voice came out low and bitter, almost daring. “Then maybe I can do something wild too.”

Kara’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth to reply, but I was already turning back toward the bar, the words hanging in the air between us like a promise I wasn’t sure I could keep.