When Lydia returns to Lizzie's videos, at first she's a broken, angry mess, and for Lizzie it's like watching her heart break all over again. Lydia can sense the tension and worry rolling off her sister, but she doubts that Lizzie expects her to completely lose hope, begging to know why George doesn't love her.
Later, though, after Lydia asks her sister for company in that second video, both girls seem calmer, maybe even happy because that site has suddenly disappeared. Lizzie is glad her little sister needs her, and Lydia feels relieved that someone is willing to be around her. They talk for a few minutes but, honestly, neither of the sisters is particularly good at holding up conversations together just yet. Finally, Lizzie just asks, "Lydia, maybe we should get you out of the house. Do you have anywhere you want to go?"
Lydia sits quietly for a moment because, honestly, aside from the comfort her sisters provide and that explosion of emotion put online for everyone to see, she's not positive much can help, and she doesn't exactly think going to one of those tea shops Lizzie likes just to sit through more awkward conversation will be particularly fun. Then, though, a thought crosses her mind and she says, "Get ready, sis; we're going to Carter's to celebrate!"
Before agreeing to go to the bar, Lizzie raises a lot of protests about how partying will not actually help Lydia feel better (It's a Wednesday; you have classes tomorrow!) and even attempts to get Jane to take up the argument, which just causes the oldest Bennet to shake her head at it all and pat Lydia's hand. Eventually, though, all three Bennet sisters end up in the family car, dressed rather extravagantly for what Lydia has coined 'The Best Night Out EVER!'
Lizzie hustles into a corner the moment they arrive (because, as she says, "I'm exhausted, guys"),and Lydia pouts at Jane's permanent refusal to consume alcohol; in a sense, it's almost like old times. Which, for Lydia, means the night is becoming boring and, if it's not quickly livened up, she's going to feel the sadder part of her creep in soon.
The only solution is to take control of the DJ booth.
Lydia has been coming to Carter's for nearly five years now (Not drinking, guys, oh my gosh. Most of the time.). The DJ, Kevin, is the older brother of someone she graduated from high school with, and he's not opposed to letting other people take control of the music.
Actually, he's too drunk half the time to handle the soundboard, but no one has apparently decided to oust him from the job yet, which is in Lydia's favor. She wanders from where her sisters sit to the DJ booth, shoving through giggling singles and hot and heavy couples, glad to get out from the sweating throng when she reaches the sound room door. She pulls it open to reveal a wasted Kevin, feebly draped in his chair with a beer in hand. Despite the beer goggles, though, he recognizes her enough to know what she wants.
"Have you got your playlist on you?" he asks, his words as sloshy as the liquid in his plastic cup.
Lydia pulls a slim USB out of her clutch and hands it over. "Play everything, and I'll give you a twenty after."
Kevin smiles and nods as he jams the device into his music system.
"Gotcha, Red."
The speakers blare the first song as Lydia wanders back toward her sisters, Taylor Swift's voice singing something about late-night breakfast and hipster clothes.
"What the heck happened to the music? I thought Carter's just played techno or something!" Lizzie yells from a few feet away, the loud thumps of the song making her voice sound thin and far away.
"Isn't it great?" Lydia says, pulling both sisters up by their hands. "Come on; we better dance!"
She can feel Jane hesitate and Lizzie pull at her arm like she wants to sit back down, but Lydia is the baby sister for a reason. She makes the biggest puppy dog eyes she can manage and pouts her lip until it feels like it's jutting out a whole foot from her face.
"Please? I think that this will, y'know, help me… feel better."
She may layer on the guilt a bit thick, but both Lizzie and Jane can hear the truth in it and, not willing to upset Lydia anymore, they allow her to yank them onto the dance floor.
Lydia has spent plenty of time perfecting her dance mix, and it's made of tunes specifically designed to keep both her and her sisters on their feet for the next hour. Jane has always said she has 'eclectic' taste (Lizzie says she just can't make up her mind.), so it spans across plenty of genres to include all the music she thinks is best.
About halfway through the songs, "Alright" comes on and Jane is wrangled into helping her little sister do some dance she learned from a video game. Lizzie laughs at them and says she's glad they don't mind the embarrassment, but they get some applause from a few drunken patrons and Lydia is grinning.
"Did I ever tell you guys," Lydia says breathlessly during the next song, "that George couldn't even dance? Some people have two left feet; he looked like he had three!"
"Lydia, sweetie, that doesn't even make sense!" Jane is still sweating up a storm next to her and smiling at her sister's absurdities. "How could it be like he had three left feet?"
"He was just that bad!"
Lizzie decides they must be a little high on the energy of the dance floor when they all collapse into a fit of giggles.
"So, Lizzie, on a scale of one to a bazillion, how much would you say that Darcy loves you?" Lydia asks, then whispers theatrically, "It's for the viewers."
Lizzie glares at her sister, but Jane bumps against her shoulder and practically yells, "He was going to take you to the theater, Lizzie! He loooooves you!"
"Well, thanks for your vote of confidence, guys, but I kind of doubt it. Remember, I called him out on the Internet," Lizzie says, shrugging.
Jane, of course, then has to note that she said thanks. "Do you hope he does?" she asks, concern lining her face in a very Jane-like way. It feels almost too serious compared to the sounds of "Good Feeling" blasting across the dance floor.
Lizzie gulps like a fish, trying to formulate an answer under the gazes of her sisters. "I really need another drink or two before you guys lay questions like that on me," she mutters.
Lydia drags her toward the bar.
The rest of the night is a bit of a sob fest; Jane moans about Bing over a virgin piña colada, Lizzie drinks until she's told her sisters about every single time that Darcy touched her hand or looked at her, and Lydia just sits between them, rubbing their backs and murmuring condolences. Somewhere around her third margarita, Lizzie realizes how strange this situation is.
"Crap, Lydia, we came here to cheer you up, not to bother you with all the dumb stuff going on with us."
Jane straightens up a little in her bar stool, nodding along with Lizzie's statement and adding, "We're so sorry; there's nothing we've gone through these last few months that really compares to what George did."
Lydia hugs both her sisters close, a feat difficult to manage in their various positions. She can practically smell the salt from their tears, coupled with Jane's perfume and Lizzie's fruity shampoo. She inhales it and finds herself surprised at just how calm she truly feels. "It's okay," she says, realizing that she means it, "I think it's time that someone listened to you guys, too."
A few minutes later, once she's herded her tired sisters into the car, Lydia slithers back into Carter's to grab her USB and pay Kevin, a twenty pressed firmly into her hand. She can hear a few lines of her last song on the mix playing and smiles at the appropriateness of it for the night. (But you're waiting at the door where everybody's hanging out just like they hung out before. You didn't have to do it, but you did it to say that you didn't have to do it, but you would anyway.)
Later, as she drives her snoozing sisters home and helps them to bed, she continues to hum along.
