Don't own Glee or Airplanes.
The air stank of alcohol and smoke, definitely a place where no one would expect she would be in. It was easy to swipe her sister's fake ID and grab from her brother's supply of cigarettes. They thought she was the perfect little girl, but then again, they were always wrong.
Her back lipstick was smudged and her heels were already broken. Many of the VA members were there, with the exception of the ex-lead, and they were pretty much having a good time.
Her yellow dress was torn from the waist down, not that she actually cared. All she wanted to do was drown in her sorrows. She leaned on the oak bar, and the bartender served a brown-ish liquid in a shot glass. She was so wasted that she didn't care if people stared, as she let the burning sensation overcome her throat.
"Hey lady, I think these are yours," a waiter handed her the broken black-framed glasses she wore. She shrugged, she never needed them anyway.
The night wore on, music was blasting and everyone was typically having a good time, more so the wasted ones. Some were passed out on tables others were dancing on, and some made out. Whether it be boys, girls, or whatever.
Can we pretend that airplanes—
"Hello?" her greeting came out more as a shout, as the one-syllable word slurred.
"Sun?" Her eyes widened, but then returned to their hazy state.
"Matt?" They had formed a bond when he had transferred to Carmel, and she was touring schools.
"Where the hell are you?" His voice is angry and frantic, as her mind fell into a hum.
"Bar, down street, lots of VA," her words made no sense anymore. She had closed her eyes and slid to the ground, snapping her phone shut.
The last thing she remembered when she was conscious (or barely) was that she was being carried, two solid items on her belly. It was probaby Matt, who picked her up a few minutes later, his mother told her. She woke a little later after. The person in her room was Matt's mother.
"Don't tell my mom," the exchange student whispered, blinking back tears.
"I won't," she sighs in relief. "That hangover's going to be your punishment anyway," Her sight was misty, but she was sure the older woman smirked at her.
"Goodnight."
Thank god it was a weekend.