Alyssa walked through the crowd, two drinks in her hands. She’d been at the beer booth about to order herself a drink when an older man had slid past the line and into the space beside her, close enough that she could smell the stench of stale cigarettes and beer on his breath. She looked less than amused as he smirked at her, tongue sliding along his veneers in a way she assumed he thought was attractive but she was pretty sure it activated her gag reflex. He’d hit the countertop twice, ordering the two of the more expensive beer on the menu, Alyssa doing little to stop him other than take a step to the side when he’d leaned into her. When the beers had come, Alyssa took them with a smile and a simple thank you, much to the man’s confusion. She had walked off quickly, losing herself in the crowd and only slowing when she spotted Benji’s familiar face. “Hey! Beer?” She stopped in front of him, hand outstretched and gently shaking the cup. “The best the carnival has to offer.”

She hadn’t been expecting to run into Lana at the carnival. Well, she had, Lana seemed to pop up anywhere and everywhere, a butterfly gracing the dullest days. But the carnival was fairly big, and Alyssa would have assumed she’d be prancing around with various people, entertaining herself with booths and games and rides. Though right now she seemed mostly lost, wide eyes flicking from one side to another as though she were looking for someone, fingers jittery, legs bouncing almost like she was going to take off in a sprint at the slightest scare. Alyssa’s brows furrowed in worry, taking the few careful steps towards her ex. “Lana?” Her voice was loud, but not harsh, just enough to be heard over the music and crowd. “Hey, are you alright?”

Spotting Teddy was a godsend in the middle of the crowded house party, Alyssa slipping through dancing bodies until she reached him, hoping that the guy that had been following her saw and decided to leave her alone, though she knew it was a slim to none chance. “Help me I think this guy wants to wear my skin as a suit.”

The bartender – Russell, as she’d overheard a coworker referring to him as on many occasions – seemed to have a large appetite for a sweet smile. He turned to mush like a wax candle in the firing line of a blow torch, regretful expression rearing once he noticed the way Alyssa’s face furrowed. Bradley couldn’t help but scoff under her breath, resisting the urge to fake a wretch. She’d never been able to maintain a delicate persona for long, far too sharp around the edges to ever be mistaken as soft. “Pwease, sir. I’m Benjamin Buttoning. Thirstier, in my old age.” He shot her an eye roll before looking back at Alyssa. “I mean…” he trailed off, letting out a reluctant sigh. His eyes flit further down the bar, checking whether his manager was around to catch a slip up. “I’ll get in shit, if I… What can I get you?” came with a pointed lift of his eyebrows, wordlessly trying to convey that he’d let her order whatever Alyssa wanted, for the pair of them. “You’ll have to take the drinks to a table, though. Got CCTV up at the bar. If Ray catches her drinking shit, he’ll have my neck.” Perching her chin on the stoop of her palm, Bradley studied him with a vaguely amused expression. “By the neck? Zoo wee mama. Kinky. Is there a red room, in the back, or..?” Not even giving him a chance to speak once he’d opened his mouth, she straightened and slapped the counter-top. “One of her drinks is gonna be… A vodka, I think. With ice. Slap a few cubes in there and Bob’s your uncle. Promise not lob one at your forehead, again. Scout’s honour.” She gave a firm salute, face serious. He ignored her with a sigh. “And you…? Can I get a name, too, maybe?” At the shy beginning of a smile on his face, Bradley let out an exasperated “Jesus…” below her breath. “Yeah, because that’s fucking likely.”

Hopping up to take a seat on a bar stool at Green Buzz, Bradley had been about to order a drink before the guy serving gently shook his head, lifting a finger and tapping twice at a poster tacked between the bottles. Surveillance screenshot on it blurry, you could only just make out a black mass lobbing something at a carefully parked Volvo, mess halfway through splattering the windshield. Beneath, the words read ‘DO NOT SERVE THIS GIRL. THREW SPAGHETTI BOLOGNESE ON MANAGER’S VEHICLE. MINCE STUCK IN WINDSCREEN WIPERS FOR TWO WEEKS AND COUNTING’. Bradley let out a scoff, trading a glance sideways at the person besides her. “Wow. Can you believe that? I’m literally being framed.” A lie. “Banned from even ordering a pint of milk. It’s like they want my bones to be brittle. They want me to snap, like a Twiglet. So sadistic. Baby just needs some calcium.”

TRIGGER WARNING: ptsd, domestic abuse, suicide attempt, age gap (not by much but she was still a minor when he turned 18), bullying, harassment, stalking