1 01 | A Night of Mistake

____ 𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄

The club is electric tonight, everyone feeding off of the smiles and fast dancing. I was there to drown away my sorrows. I wanted to feel something different other than the pain I constantly felt for the past months. 

A wine of glass was all it took to get me drunk. My drinking habits started about three months ago when it all happened. My eyes scanned the club I was in. The music moved them like puppets on a string. The music was a drug which brought them higher, higher, until they achieved pure bliss. A temporary escape from reality. They held cocktails in their hands as they cheered and energetically swayed to the upbeat music. 

This has been my routine for the past three months. Go to a bar or a club, get myself drunk to the point that I'm seeing double, and watch people have the time of their lives. While I suffer. 

"Ma'am, you still haven't paid for your drinks," a grumpy voice knocked me out of my trance. 

Whirling my head to the source of the voice, I discovered it was from the bartender. He was tall with a greying mullet which was tied back. He wore the usual uniform bartenders wore. He was wiping the table as he gazed at me, eyebrows raised. 

"H-how much d-do I have to pay?" My words came out slurred. "You know what, nevermind, here." I placed two-hundred dollars in front of him. 

The strong and harsh scent of alcohol can be smelt from me. I know it, and so does every passerby. They can see my struggle to balance and I'm struggling to keep it too. It's like my body's been cast under a spell. My legs don't work as I tell them neither do my hands or fingers. My head throbbed from the side as I wove through the sea of people dancing like their hips were made to sway. 

Shoving people aside, I attempted to exit this club. I wanted to go home now after a night of drinking. A girl I shoved accidentally spilt her drink on me. I stared at the soaked part of my shirt, a bright orange stained the colourless fabric. She stared at me, wide-eyed. This sobered me up. 

She crossed her arms across her chest as she tapped her foot on the floor, her heels creating a clicking sound. 

I turned around and walked away. "You know a simple sorry would have sufficed," she said. A couple of glances were thrown our way. "What? Are you going to stare like a goddamn idiot?" she continued. 

"I don't have time for this," I mumbled. 

I rolled my eyes and turned my back on her. Suddenly, I was pulled back by a hand on my arm. 

"When I talk to you, don't you dare turn away," she warned, glaring at me. 

"First off, why should I be the one to say sorry? You were the bitch who spilt the drink on me." I threw her hand off my arm and narrowed my eyes at her. 

A wave of 'oohs' followed after the last words left my mouth. I observed her and it looked like fumes were coming out of her ears. 

"Honey, who decided it would be a great idea to walk through the dance floor with people dancing when you would, obviously, get hit. You know you could go around it. Who's more of an idiot now?" She placed her hands on her hips, a corner of her lips curling upward. 

"I have a better question, who was dancing around like a monkey?" I retorted. 

She growled as she grabbed at my arm again but this time, she dug her nails into my skin. Who the hell decides claw-like nails are a good idea? They could claw your eyes out! I yelped in pain as she dug her nails in harder. 

I pulled my arm back but with the force I exerted, I stumbled backwards, and as if matters couldn't have gotten any worse, I slipped on a spilt drink and spun around and onto my stomach– but I did not expect to fall onto somebody. Even worse, our lips touched as I fell on top of him. 

"Oh my god."

"Aren't they Adrianne and Sebastian from Fashion Limitless?"

"I always shipped them!"

"Are they in a relationship?"

"Doesn't he have a girlfriend?"

"I knew something was going on between them!"

I quickly rolled off him as I heard several whispers before the drinks had finally gotten to me and I fell into the void of unconsciousness. 

__________❇__________

The aching in my skull ebbed and flowed like a cold tide, yet the pain is always there. I understand at once why they call it a hangover, for it feels as if the blackest of clouds are over my head with no intention of clearing until late afternoon. I sat up, hand on my head, as I scanned the dimly-lit room. Though it is daytime, no one has opened the thick drapes. 

My eyes widened at the realisation of how dark the room was. Panicked, I reached over to turn on my lampshade and soon, a part of the room was illuminated. I let out a sigh of relief. I hate the dark. 

The door opens to reveal a maid I've technically grown up with: June. She is the daughter of one of the maids who has served us for years. She decided to work for us provided my parents agree to fund her education. 

"Ms Adrianne, your father and the Adairs are in the meeting room. I was instructed by your father to go fetch you," she explained. 

"W-what? Why didn't my father tell me we were going to have a meeting with the Adairs this week?" I asked, squinting and rubbing my eyes. 

"No Ma'am, the meeting wasn't scheduled. The Adairs came earlier today and wanted to talk to both of you."

Suddenly, the intercom beside my bed activated. "June! Where's Adrianne?!" My father's voice echoed through the room.

June pressed the button by the intercom and replied, "Sir, I'll have her dressed and she'll be off."

"No! I need her right now!" My father's voice commanded and obviously, he had no intention of waiting.

I frowned and pressed the button myself, "Dad, I'm still in my robe!" I argued.

"Come in here now. That's an order." Then it went static. 

I sighed, "He won't even let me wear proper clothes!"

The intercom turned on again. "Adrianne Elise Chanelle, don't make me come in there and tear you away from your bed," he said, using his angry dad voice. 

With a growl, I threw off my covers and exited my room. I marched down the hallway, head held high as I tightened the ribbon on my silk robe. I could tell from the looks of the maids I passed by, I had the look of a person who had gotten out of bed. I arrived in front of the room. I took a deep breath and turned the doorknob, revealing everybody inside the meeting room: Ian Adair, Sebastian Adair, and my father. I raised an eyebrow at my father who was on the other end of the long table in the middle of the room, his arms crossed. 

"You called?" I asked, impassive

"Yes, now go and sit down." He gestured to the chair in front of me. 

"Sit? I'm sorry, but I don't think you quite understand. I'm wearing my robe and you expect me to sit–"

"Goddammit, Adrianne! Sit down!" My father raised his voice, not pleased with my behaviour.

I stiffened and obeyed his order, not wanting to get on the bad side of my father. But, with the serious expression on his face, I guess I already have.

"Do you know why we're here? Hm, Adrianne?" He questioned me, clasping his hands together behind his back. 

"To be honest, no. Which is why you tell me already." I rested my chin on my palm.

"If the internet wasn't enough, the Adairs had to come here to address the issue." He pointed to the two men. 

Issue? What issue?

And as if he had read my mind, he threw several newspapers in front of me and turned his laptop to face me and he had a tab opened with an article titled: ADRIANNE CHANELLE CAUGHT KISSING SEBASTIAN ADAIR.

I gulped. 

When did this happen?