Blacklight
Summary: Britta has an unplanned encounter with Star-Burns
Warnings: language, referenced drug use
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A/N: This story takes place between chapters 12 and 13 of "Everything is Better, Part Three." No need to be familiar with the larger work. The basic plot points in this piece are taken from canon references in "Course Listing Unavailable." What really happened at Neil's party?
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Britta banged her head on the steering wheel of her car.
"Fuck!"
She held her forehead against the wheel for a few moments, closing her eyes with a pained expression. In her right hand was a crumpled piece of paper.
She took a deep breath and sat up. She smoothed out the piece of paper and stared at the calligraphy and meticulously printed roses. The longer she looked at it, the blurrier it became. She wiped her eyes.
"Fuckedy fuck."
She shook herself and tossed the paper on the floor of the passenger's side.
She muttered to herself, since she was the only one in the car, "You don't care. It's nothing to do with anything. It doesn't matter. You never needed him. You never wanted that."
She flipped her head back against the headrest.
"AAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!"
For several minutes she sat there, letting her chest heave as she felt some strange liquid substance drip down her cheeks.
Finally, feeling exhausted, she braced herself and pulled down the visor of her car. She cringed as she looked in the mirror.
"Crap."
She closed the visor and leaned back against the seat. She knew she'd be disastrous being alone tonight.
Plus she had run out of weed.
What she needed was a distraction.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
She entered the backroom of Neil's apartment. Vicki nudged her with an elbow.
"Just get in there."
"But who's back here?"
Vicki scowled. "Everyone." She gave her a shove and closed the door, disappearing on the other side.
It took a few moments for her to adjust to her surroundings. She had to admit Neil did a kickass job of closing out all light sources. She couldn't even see where the windows might be. Although it was a Saturday night, there were plenty of streetlights outside. But in here it seemed liked a different world.
This is exactly what I need.
She smiled to herself and looked down at her white shirt (borrowed from Annie since she had nothing of her own that was light colored), now glowing under the blacklight. She strutted toward what she assumed was the snack table, as she could see various glowing shapes. Some moved, so she assumed those were people. She could discern a couple shirts, but otherwise assumed most people were dressed in darker colors but had chosen to accentuate various aspects of themselves.
She spied Leonard over near the chip dip. He had on eyeliner and something on his eyelashes so that all she could see were his eyes.
She avoided the chip dip and made a play for the cups, clearly visible with some sort of markings.
Beer, beer, beer
She grabbed a cup.
"May I?"
She recognized Neil's voice.
"Hey Neil. This is a happening party."
"I'm so glad you could come, Britta."
She smiled shyly with likely glowing teeth as she watched Neil's disembodied hands - was that nail polish? - pour her a beer and hand it to her.
He added with a slight crack in his voice, "Did you bring the rest of the study group?"
Britta immediately frowned. "No. It's just me. But, um, maybe some will show up? I know Annie and Jeff aren't coming but I don't know about anyone else."
"Oh. Yeah. Okay. It's cool you could come."
"Yeah whatever. I had nothing better to do."
"Cool."
She watched as Neil likely turned and walked away (the nail polish seemed to move off toward the right) and then looked up toward the middle of the room at the disco ball. She began to drink her beer. She felt the techno music pulsating through her body.
She may have had a head start on the getting drunk part. She had found a stash of vodka under her bed. Hell, she needed something to take the edge off before she could show her face in public.
Not that anyone could probably see her face. With an internally embarrassed shrug, she gulped down her beer.
"Fog machine! Pop! Pop!"
Britta laughed to herself as the room began to fill with mist.
Someone poured her another drink. She had no clue who, but she didn't care.
She was going to have fun. She had a fully functioning life. She had her cats. She had friends. She was going to school to better herself. She was going to help people.
She didn't need stupid Jason. Stupid, fuckedy fuck fuck Jason.
The Jason who broke up with her for no reason. He was lame. He didn't even like Radiohead. And now he was probably going to buy a fucking house, maybe even in fucking Riverside. It would probably be brick with a little white picket fence. And he and fucking Kristen will be fucking happy living a delusion. And they'll probably have ten million fucking Jason babies. And they'll just think they're happy. But one day they'll wake up and realize it's all a lie.
She gulped down some more beer.
"Hey, Britta! Let's draw."
"Huh?" She instinctively shirked back as Star-Burns - she knew it was him because he had painted his side burns - reached toward her with what she assumed was a highlighter. He handed it to her and then began to draw more stars on his arm.
"See? Cool, huh?"
Britta snorted. "Yeah." She made some squiggle marks on her arms.
"Do me?"
She nodded (not sure if he could see that, but whatever) and began to make a series of dashed lines on his elbow.
"Can I sign your face?"
He laughed. "Yeah, do it."
She grinned, reaching up to make a pronounced "B" on his cheek, right above a side burn. She bit her lip as she scrawled an "R" followed by the rest of her name.
"There. You're marked. When I become famous, not that I care about that at all, you will be a collector's item."
"Hey, you're pretty cool, you know that?"
She felt her chest constrict.
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She's not sure how it happened. They were drawing. It was innocent. It was carefree. It was hot and misty.
She was hammered.
She wanted to forget.
She wanted someone to care.
"Oh my god! Gross!"
She startled as she heard Vicki's voice. She immediately pulled away from the glowing stars and wiped her mouth.
She felt Star-Burns' hand drop from his place on her ass. He let out a roaring laugh.
"You're awesome, Britta!"
"You two are disgusting is what you are! Britta, how could you make out with him?!"
Britta continued to furiously wipe her mouth. "Damn it."
"Hey, I'm not so bad. You seemed into it."
"Oh God."
She felt the room spinning, the hot air from all the party guests crammed into such a small space finally getting to her. And the damn mist.
She pushed past Vicki and made her way toward the door. Somehow she was able to find it. She thought Leonard may have opened it for her, but she couldn't be sure.
She mumbled, "Thanks, glowy eyes."
"It's my pleasure. Maybe we could make out sometime?"
She turned away and found a small door. Luckily she had guessed correctly that it was the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.
She bent over and hurled into the toilet.
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Duncan looked up from his phone as he heard the tapping on the window.
He quickly reached across and opened the passenger side door. Britta smiled sheepishly as she pushed into the Smart car.
"Thanks for picking me up."
He took a moment to take a good look at her, noticing the bloody red eyes and various markings over her arms and neck.
His eyes lingered on the giant hickey.
He took a sharp intake of air and then said with affected calmness, "Not a problem. Everything okay?"
She winced and hunched over, placing her hands on the dash. "I'm so stupid. Why do I do things like this?"
Duncan reached over to lightly pat her shoulder.
She instantly recoiled.
"Er, sorry. I was trying to be comforting."
She turned and stared at him, her cheeks flushing. "Please don't."
He placed his hand on the keys in the ignition and started the car. "I take it I'm driving you home?"
She leaned back and closed her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Could I sleep on your couch? Just for tonight? I don't want to be alone."
"Of course. Um, bad day?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
He nodded and drove silently for about a minute before he glanced over to her.
"I don't need to know what happened, but I'm glad you called me."
She laughed bitterly. "I'm surprised you're not wasted. I took a risk calling you, you know."
Her eyes widened as she turned to look at him. "You're not wasted, are you?"
He shook his head. "It's only nine."
She groaned and turned to press her head against the side window. "It is? God. I'm sorry. You probably were about to get sloshed."
"Let's not worry about it. You come over and talk to the crabs. They, um, miss you."
She turned to him. "Are they okay? I hope they're getting more orangey."
"Ah. They are definitely getting more color. You'll be amazed. It's all due to you."
She placed a hand near her mouth and smiled. "I'm so glad they're okay. No one wants grey hermit crabs. Thanks for taking care of them and letting them get back to normal."
Duncan tapped a finger on the steering wheel as he continued to drive. "I don't mind grey. But, you er, know that most things can come back to life if given the proper attention. And only if one pays attention. You, Miss Perry, have excellent observation skills. Those crabs owe you their lives."
Britta rolled her head to the side with a slight smile.