Blame It on Bad Luck

I woke up the next morning feeling like complete shit.

The fact that I had eaten half of a container of chocolate ice cream and then proceeded to drink the bottle of vodka in my fridge was probably to blame, but I was happier blaming it on the douchefuck who had broken up with me the night before. It wasn’t like it was the ice cream or the vodka’s fault that I was broken hearted.

Not that I was bitter or anything.

I had fallen asleep on the couch in my living room, and when I woke up I had a severe knot in my neck, a pounding migraine, and a stomache ache to top it all off. I crawled off the couch and grabbed my phone off the coffee table, only to find a text from Matt waiting in my inbox.

“Party tonight, our flat. Don’t pussy out. Love ya, Matt.”

I rolled my eyes. He obviously knew how to not only win over the ladies, but how to get me to do something. I didn’t even bother replying because we both knew I was going to go.

At least it was a reason to get out of the house and get drunk, and hopefully forget about my stupid ex-boyfriend.

***

Living in Sheffield wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, although I wasn’t really sure it was cracked up to be anything anyways, but whatever. Sheffield had a tendency to be boring, and aside from some restaurants and a few places to hang out, there wasn’t much to do. So house parties were a common occurrence, even though we were all of age to go out and drink. We just had more fun at house parties, where we knew everyone and everyone knew us; it was more of a chance to hang out with your friends and get pissed than anything, but I would take it.

Of course, when you’re friends with a bunch like the boys of Bring Me the Horizon, that in itself was a reason to have a party. Because generally, wherever they went a party followed.

That being said, I knew if I didn’t show up earlier to Matt’s flat, I wouldn’t even get a chance to talk to any of them before they were either A) stoned or B) drunk. So after recouping at my house for most of the day, and after I informed Abbey of the party that she was more than willing to attend, the two of us got dressed in acceptable attire and headed over to our friends place.

I didn’t even bother knocking, and instead whipped out the key the guys had given me for when they went on tour and needed a “housesitter” of sorts. When Abbey and I walked inside, neither of us were surprised by the scene in front of us.

Sitting on the couch was Matt, surrounded by the other boys in the band. All of them were either playing a video game or cheering on each other while they played, and it was just so typical that I would have laughed if it weren’t so sad. “You guys are pathetic,” I announced, catching their attention. Abbey just laughed and shook her head, he bright red hair swinging from side to side.

Before we could even say another word, the guys were on us both like flies on hunny; or at least, most of the guys. Meanwhile, Oliver and Matt sat on the couch and continued to play the game at hand.

I hugged Tommy while he kissed my forehead. He was the guy I was closest to out of the whole group, next to Matt or course. “Missed yeh, Finleh,” he smiled, ruffling my hair slightly as he stepped away and hugged Abbey next.

After I said my hellos to Lee and Kean, I stepped closer to the couch and placed my hands on my hips. “You know, it’d be nice if you’d at least acknowledge my exsistance maybe?” I said, directing my ‘anger’ at Oliver.

“’old on, yeh bitcheh bird! ‘m tryin’ ta beat yehr best friend ‘ere and yeh’re ruinin’ my concentration!” Oliver told me; his voice had escalated throughout the sentence and when he was finished, he was yelling. He was also throwing his controller down on the ground in frustration. “Bloodeh fuckin’ ‘ell! Fanks a lot Finleh,” he scowled at me from the couch in anger.

I just laughed at him, and Nicholls did too. He got up then, giving me a hug. “’ow was reunitin’ wiff the boy last nigh’?” he asked, winking.

I shuddered. “Oh, you mean the boy who left a note on my door that said he wanted to break up because he met some new bird on tour that he, and I quote, ‘connected with on a whole different level that I would never understand?’” The whole band gasped in horror, and I just rolled my eyes in disgust just thinking about him. “I’m over it,” I assured them as I held up my hand to stop all the questions I knew they were going to fire at me.

“I always knew ‘e was a prick, Fin. I called it!” Oliver exclaimed as he got off the couch and made his way over to the group.

“Spare me the ‘I told you so’ dance please, Oliver.” I rolled my eyes again and decided a topic change would be good. I gave Abbey a look, knowing she’d obey and get the guys to talk about Warped instead of interrogate me. She really was my best friend for a reason.

“So ‘ow was Warped tour boys?” she asked as we all made our way over to the couch and various other spots on the floor to sit and catch up.

“Fuckin’ mental,” Oliver said first, shaking his head in amazement. “’S so crazy, even though it was our second year.”

Matt nodded in agreement as I sat down next to him on the couch and rested my head on his shoulder. “’S a completely different world, tourin’ wise. Like noffin’ yeh’d eva expect.”

The guys kept sharing tour stories for awhile, and once Abbey and I felt sufficiently caught up on their lives and vice versa, the drinking began. “I feel like we should do a celebratory shot or something,” I suggested seriously. After being friends with the boys for so long, I had learned to hold my own with alcohol; by now, I could drink just as much as Oliver and only be a little tipsy. Sometimes we liked to test this fact to the max, and I had a strange feeling tonight would be one of those nights.

“Startin’ earleh Fin?” Oliver smirked at me as we all gathered around the island in the kitchen.

I just returned the look as I reached out and grabbed the full shot of tequila in front of me, downing it just as fast as it had been poured. “You know you’re no match for me Oli. I can drink you under the table, anytime, anywhere.”

From my left side, Abbey groaned. “I am not draggin’ yehr sorreh arse home tonigh’ afta yeh get so pissed yeh can ‘ardleh stand. Got it?” She was warning me not to go through with this bet in the making, but after my vow to myself the night before, I really didn’t have a choice. I had promised to be a little crazier, to take some risks and to have fun, and if that included alcohol then so be it.

“You won’t have to drag me home because I’m not getting drunk,” I smirked as I tossed back another shot. “So there!” I exclaimed and stuck my tongue out playfully. Abbey just rolled her eyes. I was probably going to have to make this up to her later, but at that moment I really didn’t care.

“Let’s parteh,” Oliver smirked as he threw back his shot.

It was so on.

***

I wasn’t a stumbling drunk, an obnoxious drunk, or a slutty drunk. I was hardly a drunk really, because I didn’t get drunk all that often. But right then as I stood in the middle of Oliver and co.’s kitchen pounding back another shot, I knew for a fact that I was drunk. But, judging from the hazy look in Oliver’s eyes as he smirked at me from across the island, he was too. It was going to be hell determining who had gotten drunk first, but I think at that moment neither of us cared.

It was funny, really. At most of the guys’ parties, Oliver would get kind of drunk and end up with some bird he shouldn’t have been with, and she would slink out the next morning and that would most likely be the end of her. Unless of course she was a “good fuck” as the guys liked to put it. I just called them slutty and was done with it.

This party was different though. Oliver was really trying to drink me under the table, and I was determined to win the bet. At least that’s what I told myself. I knew, in the darkest recesses of my mind, that this was all just a game. I could out drink Oli, and I was trying to, but I just wanted to get good and drunk. I wanted to forget about the previous night, forget about my ex, and most importantly, forget my name.

So I did.

“’ow many’s that?” Oliver asked as he stumbled around the island and came over to my side, whisking the bottle of tequila from my hands.

“Too many,” I shrugged, reaching out to retrieve it from him so I could pour myself another drink. His reflexes were extremely delayed, so doing so wasn’t hard. It was the concentrating long enough to pour another shot without missing. After my third failed attempt, I gave up and just started to drink straight from the bottle.

“Yeh look sexeh when yeh do tha’,” he told me as he stepped closer.

It was weird at first; or rather, it should have been weird. But it wasn’t. There wasn’t an ounce of weirdness in the fact that Oliver now had his hands on my hips as I smiled and wrapped my arms around his colorful neck. My tiny tank top I had changed into after spilling beer on my other shirt was riding up my stomach and I could faintly feel Oli’s fingers ghosting over the bare skin. I shivered.

“Tha’ boyfriend of yehrs was a proper arse for dumpin’ yeh like tha’. Doesn’t know wha’ ‘e’s missin’,” he whispered in my ear as he leaned in. He was driving me crazy, which was the weird part. Oliver and I didn’t particularly like each other, and we had never, ever done something like this. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to stop it.

“He was a dick,” I murmured, to which Oliver just laughed. He leaned down and ghosted his lips over my neck, which made me erupt into a shiver once again, before he brought his face back up to mine. His honey eyes were glazed over from being drunk, and his cheeks were flushed from the heat of his apartment and all the people in it.

Before I knew what I was doing, I leaned in and kissed him. I heard myself drop the bottle of tequila on the floor, but luckily it didn’t break. Oliver gripped at my waist tighter, his fingertips digging into my bare skin making me groan. I hadn’t been this close to a guy in about two months; the fact that it was happening now and it was with Oli of all people was both sad, ironic, and just plain weird, but like I said, I wasn’t stopping it.

He gripped my legs as he lifted me up onto the island behind us, and I wrapped my legs around his tiny waist, pulling him closer to me. His hands trailed under my tank top, grazing over the skin of my stomach as my own hands raked through his hair, tugging it gently, as our lips never once separated.

Oliver pulled away, attaching his lips to my neck again, while I leaned my head back to grant him better access. I was suddenly only worried with the fact that someone would catch us, so I put my hands on either side of his face and pulled him away. “Bedroom?” I suggested, slightly out of breath. “Don’t want to get caught.”

He nodded and picked me up again, my legs still wrapped around his waist. I just giggled as we reattached our lips and he guided us through the flat. Everyone else was in the living room, currently distracted by a bong, some blunts, and mass amounts of alcohol, so I knew we would be safe.

He stumbled into his room, causing me to laugh again as he tried to quickly find his way to his bed. He set me down on it and promptly took off his t-shirt before motioning that I do the same.

Before I knew it, I was laying on the bed with Oliver hovering over me. I was now only in my black lace bra and panties and Oliver in his boxers. We were so close to crossing that point of no return that it almost scared me; or rather, it didn’t scare me, it just worried me. Oliver wasn’t my type, and anyways, even if he was I had just been broken up with by my boyfriend I had been with for way too long. I shouldn’t be here, in Oliver’s room, fooling around with him while we were both drunk.

But there we were. He looked at me, his eyes asking me if we should keep going. I didn’t even bother with saying no, because I wanted it too much. So instead, I reached up and grabbed his face, pulling it down to my own and reattaching our lips.

We soon crossed that point of no return, and before I knew it we were falling asleep, Oliver’s colorful arm draped around my waist with my back to his chest, merely inches apart from each other.

And even as I drifted off into sleep, I knew I shouldn’t have been there, in that bed, with that boy, having just done what we did. I knew it was all going to just get messier, but I didn’t care.

I should have though. Oh, how I should have cared.