Made To Leave You

“No, no, no,” Rynn Carmichael-Carrington slurred, her vivid lavender hair spilling from her scarlet hood as she leaned over the antique coffee table rife with clean cut rails of quality cocaine. “If you can't do it right, don't fucking do it. You're not a freaking Hoover, Hamilton.”

Snatching the tightly rolled bill from his hand, she expertly inhaled the entirety of the remaining coke, her pert little nose more than used to the familiar drug. She laughed to see Benjamin Franklin's face coated in the white powder and rubbed the remainder along her gum line. It only bothered her a little that this was the third time today she'd bumped and that she'd already done at least an eight-ball's worth since she'd woken up at noon. She'd been nursing her nasty little habit for nearly six months now and she had no intention of stopping any time soon. She was young, she was rich, and as far as she was concerned, life was for the living. She'd be damned if anyone was going to convince her otherwise.

Rynn was definitely not Asher's biggest fan, in fact most of the time she kind of even loathed the guy, but she had to admit that tonight he'd really outdone himself. It would have been even more amazing if she wasn't completely convinced that it was some elaborate ploy he'd dreamed up to get in her sister's pants. It wasn't as if Cora had really discussed this particular issue with her but the fact that everyone in school knew about it pretty much guaranteed that it had come to Rynn's attention. She didn't personally understand the big deal, in her mind Cora and Ash were as good as married, they'd been dating for what felt like forever and it only seemed logical that they just freaking seal the deal already. Plus, she was beyond convinced it would do wonders for her sister's mood. She knew that she battled with pretty serious bouts of depression and was taking a cocktail of Zoloft and Prozac in order to cope with it but sometimes she couldn't help but think that maybe all Cora really needed was to loosen up a little, take a few risks, actually enjoy life for once. Although, knowing her sister and all her hangups and insecurities, that was far easier said than done.

“Jesus Christ! Finally!” the shaggy-haired guy next to her cried out, knocking over a nearly full bottle of beer in his excitement. “It's about damn time!”

Rynn shook her head slightly to clear it, thoughts of her sister all but vanishing as the drugs took affect even faster than usual, her body feeling tense and keyed up, wired and on fire. This was why she did it, right here, this exact feeling. Nothing else mattered in the universe but right here and right now, this party, these people, this moment, and this, this rush, this feeling.

“What?” she asked, a faraway smile on her gorgeous face.

“The Strokes,” he drawled, blowing a steady stream of smoke in her direction and looking at her as if she were an idiot. “They're finally playing. You wanna see them or not?”

“Is that even a question?” Rynn asked, her face lighting up as she sprang to her feet (completely ignoring the fact that she could barely navigate a straight line across the room) and stumbled up the stairs.

Sure enough the band was in the middle of one of her very favorite songs when they joined the teeming mass of people crowding around them in the dining room. It was almost impossible to move and/or breath amidst the chaos but this was exactly the sort of situation in which Rynn thrived. She lived for live music, she lived for the bass line pulsing through her, she lived for the smell of sweat and cigarettes, she lived for the feeling it gave her, the feeling of being a part of something bigger than herself, the feeling of being alive. A dreamy grin crept across her face as she moved her body in time to the music and she glanced up to find the curly-haired drummer shooting a suggestive smile in her direction.

Tonight was obviously going to end up surpassing her expectations.

Happy birthday indeed.

* * *

Leaning against the balcony railing, Cora tapped her high-heeled foot in time to the music reverberating throughout the house. She was quickly growing restless, her claustrophobia kicking into high gear as the party swelled with yet more and more people. It wasn't like Asher to keep her waiting so long, especially not on a night like tonight, she could only assume that someone or something had broken one of the innumerable priceless antiques littering the mansion’s every surface and that he was off playing janitor or repairman in a vain attempt to escape his parent's wrath. Mr. and Mrs. Gaffney-Remington were fairly laid back on most occasions, but, with some of their possessions valuing somewhere in the millions, well, it was just better to play it safe than risk being shipped off to some boot camp or one of those bizarre boarding schools for “troubled” teens.

The ominous feeling that had been plaguing her earlier that evening had faded ever so slightly but something was still tugging at the corner of Cora's mind, nagging at her, telling her to keep her guard up, telling her that something just wasn't right.

“I'm being ridiculous,” she said aloud, her voice disappearing amidst the chaos surrounding her. “It's just my nerves, that's all it is. I just need to relax. Just relax.”

She took a few deep breaths, holding them inside until she felt she would burst, and returned her attention to the scene below. It was obvious that most people believed the best view of the band to be in amongst the mob of people nearly crushing them in the dining room but Cora laughed to herself with the knowledge that she could see everything far more clearly from her perch upstairs. Sure she wouldn't mind being in closer proximity to one such Julian Casablancas but she knew that Ash could always set up a meeting later if she so desired.

A few songs later and Cora was surprised to find herself actually enjoying the loud crash of music and the buzz of people. Maybe Rynn had been right in what she'd told her earlier that week, maybe she did just need to give in to certain things and experiences, maybe she just needed to cut loose a little, let her hair down, have some fun for a change. Maybe this is what she'd been missing.

In the spirit of “cutting loose”, and without much forethought, Cora readily accepted the icy bottle shoved in her direction a moment later by some generous party-goer and brought it to her lips for a long drink, which she followed with another, and another, until she'd nearly drained it dry.

And that's when it happened.

All at once the room started to spin as a sickening dizziness overcame her and she stumbled forward, banging her hip sharply on the bannister as she reached out to steady herself with a shaking hand. She'd always known she was a lightweight but this, this was something else entirely. There was no beer on earth that would get you this plastered this fast. No, something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

Staggering drunkenly, Cora pushed her way through the hoards of people far too caught up in their own revelry and intoxication to notice her plight and managed to reach the staircase leading up to the fourth floor loft that housed Asher's bedroom. If only she could make it up those stairs she knew she'd be safe. She knew Asher would notice she'd gone missing and come looking for her. It was only a matter of time before he found her and then everything would be fine. It had to be.

Using what was left of her quickly depleting energy, she wrenched open the door to the loft and groped for the bannister, pulling herself up onto the first of the dozen or so steps.

She could do this.

On the third stair she paused, swaying dangerously, suddenly finding it nearly impossible to move her leaden feet. The urge to close her eyes and give in to the overwhelming fatigue was incredibly hard to fight and all she wanted to do was curl up on the steps and go to sleep forever.

But she mustn't do that. She couldn't give in. She had to keep going.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

She was almost there.

Four steps.

Only five more to the top, she thought. Just five more. You can do this, Cora, you can do this.

Her vision swam in and out of focus as she managed another step, clinging to the railing for dear life, knowing that if she fell backwards she could seriously injure herself, maybe even break her neck.

Just four more.

Three more.

The dizziness was nauseating, it was too much to handle. She was going to be sick.

Just two more steps and you can lay down, Cora. Just two more steps and it will all be over.

Her inner cheerleader kept up a steady stream of disjointed encouragement but soon she heard that familiar rush in her ears and her vision started to blur and tunnel. She wasn't going to make it. So close and she wasn't going to make it. Oh, Asher, where are you? Why aren't you here? Why aren't you saving me?

Suddenly the door below her opened with a click and hurried footsteps ran to meet her.

“You made it,” she whispered as strong arms encircled her waist. “I knew you'd make it.”

And then the world went black.