Prologue: You Gotta Go Back To Go Forward…

"What are you doing here?" It was as much a damnation as an accusation but most definitely not the question it was made out to be. My eyes darted furiously around the packed club glancing off bright colored beams of light, brushing over the seemingly oblivious club goers that thrashed and pulsed around us on the dance floor, going everywhere but on the very pissed off, very beautiful girl in front of me. God, she's so hot when she's pissed, her forehead gets this little furrow going and her mouth sets in a half pout half scowl that looks so damn adorable, I just want to kiss her. But I can't look at her right now, let alone kiss her, because I can feel the heat of her anger scorching me, as if the sun had just journeyed across the millions of miles of cosmos between it and I to end its trip directly next to me. The music was pounding almost as hard as my heart as I tried to find the words to explain to my very pissed off ex-girlfriend that this is exactly not what it looks like. I felt a bead of sweat break out on my forehead and start to move slowly down into my brow only to get lost in the little hairs there. This wasn't the same type of sweat I had worked up on the dance floor just moments ago but the type that betrays the seemingly calm, "I don't give a shit, I'm not phased to see you" exterior I was struggling to maintain.

I'm trying to find a way to explain this to her that will cause the least amount of damage because right now, I'm in total damage control mode but before any words can form a voice yells from beside me and as the scene plays out in front of me I feel as if I'm watching it from the sidelines, that it isn't really happening because it seems to be a really bad plot in a B grade movie.

"What's it to you, you girlfriend stealing skank?" The short brunette next to me yells, getting right into the other girl's face, whom had just pulled us apart on the dance floor seconds ago. A moment of indecision hits me. I'm not sure what to do, this had been coming for weeks now, this showdown between them. Each of them thinking it's about one thing when it's really about another. Should I let them just yell at each other and cause a scene on the middle of the Parisian club dance floor, or do I try to defuse the situation?

"Excuse me? I'm not the one that was basically having sex on the dance floor with…with…someone else's…" She stumbles over her words, her arms are gesturing towards us in an angry, frustrated manner, unable to figure out how I fit into her life now, what role I play in it at this time, what my title is. That's all the younger girl next to me needs, a brief instant of uncertainty in the taller girl glaring at us. She knows she has her on the ropes. A smirk spreads across her face. I feel a slight chill go down my spine despite the heat of the club. This can not end good, no, there is no way this is going to be even in the same universe as good.

"Someone else's what?" That damn smirk is still there as she raises an eyebrow at the older woman in front of her, showing that she isn't afraid or intimidated. "You're so fucked up, you don't know what you want. You're not good enough for either of them." She spits out, all her fury and misery dripping off her words.

I'm not sure who's side I should be on or if my role is to be the peace maker but after being caught with a very hot, younger woman grinding on me in ways that shouldn't be witnessed outside of a bedroom, I'm not sure if I'm allowed to say anything without making it worse. The decision is taken out of my hands as I hear a loud smack that seems to echo over the music. I must look like one of those cartoon characters with my eyes bugging out and my jaw hanging to the floor. It's all happening to fast for me to react, it's playing out to the frantic beat the DJ has pumping over the enormous speakers.

The brunette next to me stumbles back a couple steps, the shock on her face is quickly replaced by raw fury as she throws her drink in her assailant's face, catching the tall brunette off guard, then pounces at her, grabbing two handfuls of those silky dark strands I had spent hours and hours running my fingers through once upon a time. I try to pull her off of my…my what…my almost again girlfriend? The love of my life? My ex-girlfriend? Regardless of what title she holds, she has always held my heart and I can't let her get hurt even more. I quickly realize that my pulling the smaller girl back isn't helping but only hurting the situation. She has her hands wrapped in chestnut locks and has the grip of a pitbull. I pull her back, ultimately allowing her to pull even harder on the hair she looks like she has no intention of letting go until it's no longer attached to the head it belongs to. I swear she was like one of those kung fu grip GI Joes I had as a kid.

"What the hell….Ashley?" Time stops as another girl runs up to us on the dance floor, her bright blue eyes widen at the sight in front of her, shocked at seeing her ex-girlfriend there of all places, trying to rip out another girls hair of all things. I see shock, confusion and finally anger flash across her face. Three sets of brown eyes quickly zero in on the young blonde that has just walked into the middle of all this chaos. I blame her for the current situation but in all actuality, she's the most innocent one out of all of us. Her arrival has sufficiently shocked the brunette I've been trying to pry off my ex enough to loosen her death grip. The lack of resistance sends both of us stumbling backwards, the copious amounts of alcohol we had consumed through out the night causes us to land in an ungraceful heap on the floor.

The tall brunette was rubbing her head, making sure her hair was still there, but on hearing that name she looks up her eyes meet mine. I swallow a huge gulp, my stomach is full of bats trying to get out. She keeps looking at me, a sudden realization showing in her dark brown eyes. I'm so screwed, she knows. She knows who this girl I'm with is, she knows and now I'm so royally screwed. I try to plead my case to her with my eyes but she turned away, carefully watching her blonde friend.

"Um…Surprise?" The slender girl says that landed right on top of me. I'm amazed that we don't have a bigger crowd watching us, people are still dancing, with only a few actually paying attention to the drama unfolding around us. If it hadn't been crazy before, it suddenly gets much much crazier.

"What are you doing here? And with Bianca's ex of all people?! I told you I didn't want to see you again." The blonde is now screaming at Ashley, who still hasn't gotten off me. I'm trying to push her off but she's too stunned at the anger and bile that's spewing forth from her ex-girlfriends mouth, from that look of hurt, outrage and mild contempt. She trying to press further into me, as if she wants to crawl inside me and hide from this verbal and emotional assault, as if I can do anything to save her, I'm to busy trying to save myself.

'How the hell did we get to this point?' I'm asking myself, repeatedly

Wait.

Stop.

Rewind.

We need to go back a few weeks, to the beginning of the summer, to the beginning of this mess. Back to when I first met Ashley Davies.