After having such a gruesome nightmare, April half expected the next few days to be just as terrible. But, in fact, the next four days that passed were nothing short of incredibly boring. As much as she enjoyed the scenery from inside the house, she was more interested in going for walks or hikes and really seeing the lush green that awaited her. But apparently, Cassandra had other plans. She had spent almost every waking hour trying to give April a make-over. Eventually, April's skin seemed to of had enough, for any makeup that her best friend tried to put on simply wouldn't stick. Not to mention, it had begun to irritate her, causing April to scratch her cheeks every few minutes. It wasn't as if she was having a terrible time, but she had been hoping to explore a bit. Or at least leave the house. That would probably explain why she was so ecstatic at the prospect of going into town today, even though it wasn't really something she would normally do.

But things had gotten so mundane around here that even the thought of going out and drinking was better than another manicure. Besides, it was her eighteenth birthday. She didn't technically turn eighteen until 11 P.M, but Cassandra had assured her that her fake I.D would work just fine. Apparently the drinking age in Europe didn't change much from the age in the United States. For the most part, April really didn't plan on drinking too much tonight anyway.

“Are you almost done?” She was currently seated in a low chair, Cassandra behind her, tugging and pulling harshly at her hair. It was incredibly painful but she had learned not to complain as much. The only answer she got was a bobby pin being stuck into the side of her scalp. A few minutes later, she was turned around, reflection meeting her in the mirror. She had to admit, her hair did look nicer than usual. Instead of just falling plainly around her face, Cassandra had used some kind of super hairspray to form it into a casually messy bun.

“I like it!” She didn't mean to sound so impressed, but lately she hadn't enjoyed any of the looks that Cass insisted upon her.

“Good! What do you want to wear? You can pick from my closet. You'll definitely fit.”

“... I'll go look.” April trudged off to Cass's room, sure that she wouldn't find anything that suited her style or comfort zone. In fact, she had been planning on wearing jeans and a sweater. Even if they were going to a club, she wasn't the type of person to care what other people thought. Though she would admit that it would look kind of odd if her hair looked so nice, paired with her usual bland clothing.

She had almost given up hope after a good fifteen minutes of searching, when a black dress caught her eye. Figuring she might as well try it, she slipped out of her clothes and into the dress, already liking the way it felt. It wasn't tight so she didn't feel like she couldn't breathe, which was always a plus. It fell to her knees – an impressive length for something in Cass's closet. Most of the blondes skirts or dresses were mid-thigh at best. Figuring it would be the best option, she returned to the bathroom, waiting on the side of the tub for Cassandra to come back from wherever she had disappeared to.

Eventually Cassandra came back, looking significantly more dolled up than April thought was possible. “We are just going out for a few drinks, right?” She felt the need to clarify, just in case she had been naive in her thinking. It had happened more than once.

Cass cast her a slightly amused look as she raised an eyebrow. “Er... yeah. Definitely just going down to the local pub, love.” The sarcasm in her voice made it obvious that wasn't in the plans. April had been hoping to soak in the Irish culture, right down to spending a night in a cozy little pub. But apparently, she would have to wait for another time to party like the Irish. From the way Cass was dressed, she could only imagine the place that she was going to be dragged to.

“You look nice!” Cassandra complimented, grinning from ear to ear, her lips perfectly painted with a pastel pink lipstick. Feeling a bit better with the compliment, April stood, following suit as Cassandra threw on a jacket and grabbed her purse. April's tattered messenger bag looked extremely out of place with her entire outfit, but she would never part with it. Especially for at the moment, it felt like her only reminder of home.

The car ride to town only confirmed April's suspicion that they were definitely not heading to a quaint little pub. For as they drove, passing first a procession of nothing but green lands and sheep fields, then through the beginnings of the town, they grew closer to a city life and farther from the country. At first, it had been like something off the back of a post-card – little houses dotting the green, with boarded up windows and chipped paints accenting their walls. Small fences, half falling over, with weeds twining up the sides. And before she knew it, they were smack dab in the middle of the city life. Rushing cars and busy people, all getting ready for a night of fun. With despair, she realized that this would be no different than the states. Slumping down in her seat, she tried to ignore the bobby pin poking her scalp and admitted final and utter defeat. When they arrived, April felt as if her entire trip had been for nothing. She was smack-dab in the centre of what she had hoped to get away from. Yet, Cassandra seemed to be perfectly in her element, as she stepped out of the black SUV, her six inch stilettos making April feel clumsy by just looking at them. But, dutifully, she followed her apparent best-friend into the nightclub with a plastered on smile. Maybe, she thought, if I pretend to have a good-time I can even fool myself.

The nightclub was the same size as a low rise apartment, with a kind of 'fashionably' run down appearance. The music that streamed out of the building seemed to seep into the pavement, a deep sounding bass-line vibrating in the soles of April's shoes. Taking a deep breath, meant to brace herself for the impending night of social awkwardness, she was assaulted by the scent of sweaty teenagers and alcohol. Stepping into the dimly lit room, she took in the sight of the throng of bodies below, grinding against each other on the dance floor. The appeal of it all was certainly lost on April, but Cass was practically beside herself with excitement.

“Let's go!” She squealed, grasping April's hand with a surprisingly strong grip for a girl who only participated in bi-weekly Pilates classes.

Only five minutes later, did April find herself seated at the bar, perched on a stool with a drink in hand. She could practically smell the overwhelming scent of alcohol from the bright pink drink that Cassandra had ordered for her. However, the girl in question, had already separated from April, in favour of an attractive boy who had asked her to dance. Though April had smiled and sent her off, she still felt a little miffed. She didn't even want to be here and now she was alone, sitting with an untouched drink in a place that made her feel dizzy. Waiting for a few minutes, as she tried to cheer herself up, April studied the other people around the curling bar that she was seated at. The majority of the patrons looked like the typical socialites. Drank too much, put on too much make-up and didn't understand the limits on spray tans. Her eyes moved down the line of club-goers, pausing at an out of place male. He was handsome, in a slightly exotic way. With high cheekbones and dark caramel skin, he looked as if he had just stepped off the plane from some far away country. He seemed to sense her gaze and his eyes lifted, fixing on hers.

For a moment, nothing happened. They simply stared at each-other, a kind of silent curiosity running between the both of them. But then his eyes rolled back in his head, leaving nothing but whiteness for her to stare at. He began to scratch at his eyes, as if he were intent on tearing them out of their sockets and even when he succeeded, spraying the blonde girl beside him in blood, April couldn't look away. She blinked, however, and everything seemed normal again. The girl who had previously taken a shower in crimson, was still pushing out her chest, laughing stupidly at what her date was saying. The male was back to focusing on his drink, gently stirring the ice cubes around with a bored expression. Feeling her heart pound in her chest, she swallowed thickly, wondering if she was going crazy. Lately, it sure felt like it.

Lifting her glass with a shaking hand, she downed the whole thing, feeling far too shaken to care that it burnt her throat. About five drinks later, she realized that she was drunk. Her head was pounding and all of her movements felt slow as she stumbled off the stool, steadying herself with a frown. Immensely glad that she hadn't worn heels like Cass, she pushed through the crowds of dancing people, feeling claustrophobic. There was only one thought on her mind – get out before you puke on someone. If being drunk was always like this, she promised herself that she would never, ever touch another drop of alcohol in her life. Once the cool night air hit her, she inhaled deeply, almost choking on the fresh oxygen. Inside the club, it had been too warm and suffocating. But out here, she felt a little better, with the promise of sweat-free air for her to breathe. Taking a few steps away from the club, she tried to calm her erratic heart, leaning against the wall for support. She didn't quite make it though and fell, holding her stomach with a small groan. The world swayed and her vision blacked out for a few moments. When it came back, she was greeted by an unfamiliar face, belonging to a boy. He was crouched down, staring at her with faint amusement and pity.

“Alright?” The question seemed stupid, considering that she was practically puking her guts out on the street, but she just shook her head. He helped her sit upright and leaned her against the wall, before he suddenly straightened up. Too dizzy to focus, it took her a few seconds to make the picture in front of her clear. The boy was standing in front of her, his arms outstretched, as if he were protecting her. Catching snippets of conversation through her ringing ears, she felt her mind swim with confusion.

Stand back, prophet, she belongs to the Queen...

Not today. You'll have to come back later. Make an appointment.

After realizing that there were two sets of voices and the boy wasn't just crazy and talking to himself, there was a clash of metal against metal, followed by the sizzling sound and scent of burnt flesh. Forcing herself to try and see what had happened, she almost fell over. Before her face met the pavement, she felt a strong pair of arms catch her.

“I leave you for two seconds and you're already trying to make out with the pavement...” It was the boy again, helping her sit upright, before he dug around in his pockets again. “Try not to move again. This will help.” She felt him press something to her lips, almost like chap-stick. It felt cool and slick against her tongue, almost like jelly. She hadn't even realized that she had been burning up until whatever he gave her had cooled her off, instantly ending the fire on her skin. A few seconds passed and she finally felt better – no longer dizzy or sick. It was like an instant drunkenness cure. The only thing she could really feel was how cold she was. Now able to focus, she blinked a few times, staring at the boy in front of her.

“Better, right?” He smiled briefly, tucking away a small vile, the clinking sound indicating that there were many others.

“Um... yeah, actually,” was all April could manage as she sat up on her own, trying to sort out what had just happened. The boy looked to be around her age, with bright blue eyes and dark hair that fell around his face messily. There were glow sticks littered across his body, emitting neon shadows onto his skin. “But... what the fuck?”

Snorting at her eloquence, the boy rose from the crouching position, offering her a hand. “Sorry. Would have helped you sooner but... Anyway, c'mon. We should go. I assume Mr. Fancy Hair has friends.” Though he motioned for her to follow, April stayed put, only moving to stand up, obvious confusion on her face.

“Uh... right. You go on ahead and I'll just be leaving.” She had started to walk away when he came rushing ahead of her, waving his hands like the people who tell the planes where to land. He looked surprised and confused – which was strange, considering she was the one left scratching her head.

“Uh, nothing. You're supposed to come with me. Not saunter back into the lions den.” Feeling a bit annoyed by the whole situation, she pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a tired sigh. This really wasn't her night. First, she got piss drunk and almost blacked out in the street. Now, she had some kid that was obviously strung out on drugs making her life hell. Happy freaking birthday, April!

“Look,” she tried to sound reasonable, hoping that maybe he would just walk away. “I don't know what the hell you're talking about. And... wait, what did you give me?” It seemed stupid, but in her drunken haze, she hadn't thought to question the fact that a stranger was trying to put chap-stick on her lips. For all she knew, it could be laced with cocaine or some other drug. A drug that this kid was obviously on.

“Nothing. Just a family recipe for drunkenness,” he replied quickly, snapping a bit at her. At least his hands weren't waving around like mini helicopters, though. “I can explain later. But if you would please just...” He trailed off, making little walking men with his fingers to demonstrate the two of them walking away. April simply stared at him for a moment, eyebrows pulled upwards before she stepped around him and began to walk away. This time he didn't come after her, he simply cursed to himself and watched her disappear back into the club.

By some stroke of luck, or divine intervention, April managed to find a dishevelled looking Cassandra. It took a few minutes to dislodge her face from the boys lips, but soon enough they were outside again, after April had practically dragged Cass outside.

“Wassur problem?” The highly intoxicated blonde slurred, seeming as if keeping both of her eyelids open just happened to be a major chore. She was leaning against a lamp post, tipping precariously on the skyscraper heels of hers.

“I was waiting for you to come back and had way too many drinks. And then I came outside and almost puked my guts out, but then...” She paused. And then? And then some weird kid wearing glow-sticks pried my face off the cement and gave me chap-stick that instantly cured my drunkenness? It occurred to April that if she actually told Cassandra that, she would definitely be sent to the loony bin. With all the nightmares she had been having recently and now this? Her friend wasn't exactly the smartest person in the world, but she wasn't a total dim-wit either. However, she also realized that Cass wasn't even listening to her anymore, but had lifted her hand to wave at someone else. Turning to see, April scowled as she spotted the same boy who had helped her. He was standing a few feet away, cigarette dangling from his lips and a devilish smile on his face.

“Sure you prefer her company over mine?” He called, eyebrows raising in what he probably thought was an enticing way. What a jerk. April ignored him, grabbing Cass by the arm and making her way over to the SUV once more. She made it a point to slam the door once she was inside, though she regretted it instantly when she saw the pained expression on the driver's face.

“Sorry...” She mumbled, giving him an apologetic look. “Can you just take us home?” Either he had been trained not to feel emotion, except towards his cars, or he was a robot, but he didn't give her an answer. Just started driving away, eyes set on the road ahead.

“Wha... were you sayin', April?” Cass mumbled, mascara starting to smudge into some serious raccoon eyes.

“... And then he happened,” she replied, letting out an exasperated sigh. But all Cassandra did was frown a bit before her head lolled to the side making the rest of the car ride peaceful.