APRÈS

It's a miserable day. The cold wind whips at Alex's skin and raises the hairs on her arms. Her work uniform consists of long black pants and a white blouse with frills – fucking frills – which doesn't help to keep her warm. She takes another drag of her cigarette and cranes her neck forward to see the train slowly rolling in. A sense of dread rushes over her. Another goddamn day waiting tables and pretending to ignore the creepy drunks ogling at her breasts.

Fuck this.

She can't go to work today. She won't go to work today. The cigarette falls from her fingers and she crushes it with a worn leather shoe. Suddenly, she is running. Pushing past a blur of black coats and briefcases.

Seconds before the doors slam shut, she leaps onto another train and finds an empty seat. A few odd glances are thrown her way as her breath tries to catch up with her body. It's such an impulsive move, ditching her sole source of income to go to the beach, but something in her gut tells her that this is right. She has to go to the beach. It's inevitable.

It occurs to her that she should probably inform her boss that she won't be in today. It's not like he'll really miss her, though. A big night at Joe's is five drunk guys and a handful of their angry-looking wives who are always on the brink of a fight. Once, Alex had accidentally spilled good ol' Barbara's Gin and Tonic and something about fuckin' dykes had been murmured. In response, she'd said, 'Oh my god babe, you so totally get me.'

There's thirty minutes to kill before her stop. With this in mind, she pulls her journal out of her bag. It used to be a habit of hers – writing about her day, about people, about music, about anything. Empty pages stare at her as she flicks through the book. She doesn't remember when it happened, but there came a point where she found that she had nothing to write about anymore. Her last entry was written two years ago. In it, she details a night out with her ex-(kind-of-almost)-girlfriend, Sylvie. The rest of the entries are bereft of real meaning. With a sigh, she shoves the journal back in her bag.

Her boots press into the sand as she walks along the beach, leaving a trail of prints. It takes her three goes to light a cigarette because of the wind and when she exhales, the smoke is hastily whisked away.

Another figure stands, admiring the gentle waves, to her far right. She's wearing a puffy dark blue coat that's slightly too big for her and tight jeans that hug her hips. Blonde hair cascades down her back just past her shoulders. Alex adjusts her glasses and narrows her eyes slightly. There's something familiar about her. The ghost of a memory teases her but she can't get a hold of it. The girl turns her head to meet Alex's eyes but quickly looks away.

While waiting for the train, Alex sees her again. The blonde. She's reading a book, but her eyes drift away from the pages long enough for their gazes to meet again. Just like last time, she quickly looks away. A shiver passes through her body. They board the train. The puffy-jacketed stranger takes a seat and Alex slides in behind her.

"Do I know you?" Alex says.

She turns around in her seat, slightly stunned.

"Who, me? Uh, no, I don't- I don't think so."

"Huh…weird."

They stay silent for a while. Alex stares out the window, watching the trees bend and rustle under the wind's influence.

"What're you reading?"

She shifts back around, gently placing her book in down in her lap.

"The Secret History by Donna Tartt. Technically, I'm re-reading it for what feels like the billionth time…" She checks Alex's face and sees a willing listener, so she continues on, talking passionately with her hands. "It's just so…so…gripping. And exciting. And she has this way of writing that makes you feel so present."

Alex smiles at her enthusiasm.

"Can I have a look?"

"Sure."

She folds her legs so that she is positioned on her knees and passes the book over to Alex. Their fingers touch.

"Hmmm, let's see…" Alex slides her glasses down to the bridge of her nose. She edges the book open to read a brief summary with all the theatrics and punctuation used by a game show host. "Under the influence of their charismatic-" She wiggles her eyebrows. "- classics professor, a group of eccentric misfits at an elite college discover a way of thinking that is a world away from the humdrum existence of their contemporaries. But when they go beyond the boundaries of normal morality they slip gradually from obsession to corruption and betrayal, and at last – inexorably – into…Wait for it…" she gasps "evil." She slides her glasses back up and chuckles.

Her dramatic reading is received with laughter and a soft nudge on the shoulder.

"Is this what you do in your spare time? Steal books from innocent people and read them like Bob Barker?"

"You caught me. You're my third victim today."

Their laughter dissolves until they're both smiling.

"So, what's your name?"

"Piper."

"Huh. I like that name. Piper..." The name tastes sweet on her tongue. "…The Pied Piper-
I'm sure you haven't heard that one before."

Piper grins sheepishly, pearly-whites peeking out from her lips. "I don't mind it."

Her eyes are filled with curiosity now.

"What's your name?"

"I'm Alex"

"And what's your deal, Alex?"

"Well," she begins, adjusting her glasses, "I work at a shitty bar just outside of town, enjoy long walks on the beach and talking to hot strangers on trains – oh, and doing dramatic readings."

Heat burns beneath the skin of Piper's cheeks.

The train squeals to a halt. Piper gathers her things and slings her bag over her shoulder.

"This is my stop."

Alex grins. "Mine too."

Alex's apartment is small yet bursting with character. Books line a big, chipped bookshelf. Records lie splayed out across the floor next to a dusty old record player. Colourful pillows sit on a light green couch. The smell of smoke and men's perfume linger over the apartment. It's perfect.

Piper's fingers trail along the spines of Alex's books while she makes coffee. She recognises most of them – some even among her long list of favourites.

She squats down and begins to sift through the records.

"You know, you can sit down on the sofa. It won't hurt you," Alex teases as she appears in the lounge room, coffees in hand. "Although, I did watch a shitty horror film once which involved sofas and teeth and…sofas with teeth. It was a mess."

Piper chuckles under her breath. She's too distracted by Alex's impressive collection of music.

Her fingers trail along the edge of an album by The Cranberries. Instantly, she has a longing to listen to the record.

Alex places the mugs down on the coffee table.

"Put it on," Alex urges, eyeing the record in Piper's hands. It's indisputably one of her favourites.

Piper delicately places the needle over the vinyl. Gentle guitar and smoky vocals fill the room.

'I don't want to leave you, even though I have to. I don't want to love you. Oh, I still do.'

The words bore straight into Piper's soul. The melodies seem to carry her through the halls of a darkened memory into complete blackness.

Tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear, she shakes her head and shakes herself out of her momentary haze. She quickly takes a seat on the couch and removes her jacket, placing it neatly on the table.

They drink their coffee and silently listen along to the music for a little while.

Piper emits a satisfied ahh at the warmth of the coffee. It seems to hit all the right places.

"So," Alex begins, propping her head against her hand, elbow resting on the arm of the couch. "What's your deal, Pied Piper?"

"Well…Alex…I'm a Smith graduate."

Alex raises her eyebrows. "Impressive."

"I work at a library."

A smirk twists Alex's lips. She has to hold back the urge to say, 'No shit. '

"And I like to sit in strange women's apartments listening to records and drinking coffee."

"Strange, huh? Is that all I get?"

Piper blushes into her coffee cup and murmurs a sly mmhmm.

When her coffee is well and truly done and the record is almost finished, Piper glances down at her watch. "Shit. I totally forgot. I have to meet my b- my friend for dinner." She's already fifteen minutes late.

Alex catches Piper's slip-up but doesn't think much of it. She has a feeling this boyfriend won't last much longer.

They both stand and Alex hands Piper her puffy coat.

Before Alex has a chance to say goodbye, Piper's eyes light up with desperation and she blurts, "Will I see you again?"

Alex chuckles and pushes her black frames over her raven hair.

"Jesus, kid. I'm not planning on disappearing or dying anytime soon. Yes."

She grabs a thick black pen from the table and clasps her fingers gently around Piper's wrist. She writes down her number quickly and neatly. "Call me."

Piper's heart feels heavy as the pen glides across her skin.

With a quick goodbye, Piper is gone. Secretly, Alex is getting a huge kick out of the fact that Piper's boyfriend is about to see another woman's number splayed across her arm.

Alex is all charm and charisma and she oozes danger and comfort and Piper can't help but be filled with pure, unadulterated joy. For months and months her life has felt devoid of meaning and suddenly there's a tugging in the back of her mind that suggests that this could be something. Not necessarily a big something, just something that could make her feel like a real person again.

"Hello?"

"Alex. Hi. It's Piper." Her voice is hushed. Larry is sleeping right next to her. The adrenaline makes her sit straight, bare legs folded. She feels like a child again, staying up past bedtime to read her favourite book under the covers.

"Piper. Hey. How was dinner with your b- I mean friend."

Piper can picture Alex's smug grin. She cracks a wide smile and feels heat rise to her cheeks.

"Fine. Good. It was - whatever."

"Sounds thrilling. Got any plans with him tomorrow night?"

"Nope. None."

"I want to take you somewhere."

Some alternative band of guys with greasy black mops for hair are playing an upbeat song on the small stage. People are scattered around the space – some in the corner sipping drinks and some in the middle of the dance floor. Piper can feel the bass humming and vibrating in her chest.

Alex leads Piper through the crowded room over to the bar, her hand softly resting on the small of her back. The bar top is florescent green. Piper's fingers run over the surface curiously.

"Hey Al," the bartender says, flashing a white-toothed smile.

"Hey Hov."

"What'll it be today?"

The bartender looks from Alex to Piper, the hint of a wink on his face.

"I'm feeling tequila tonight…Piper?"

"Tequila sounds good," she raises her voice over the music.

"Great." Alex shrugs her shoulders in surprise. She hadn't pegged Piper to be the straight tequila type. A margarita girl, maybe.

Four shots are presented neatly on the counter. Alex takes two and Piper does the same.

"Cheers."

"Cheers," Piper repeats, raising a shot glass just as Alex does.

Piper's throat burns as the alcohol rockets down her throat. Warmth unfolds in her chest.

They do the second shot the same way.

Four more shots are presented and are quickly consumed.

Piper notices the way Alex's face scrunches up after each shot and she curls her lips over a smile.

The volume of the music cannot be fought with so Alex leans into Piper, lips close to her ear. "So, you're a tequila gal?"

Piper nods. "Mmmm. Love tequila. Love, love, love, love it. I don't know why anyone would even consider drinking anything else."

Alex arches a brow, clearly amused. "I think that's called being an alcoholic."

Her comment is met with a shrug. Alex's admiration grows a little bit more. "Wanna dance?"

"God. Yes."

Alex clasps Piper's wrist and leads her to the dance floor.

A slow song shifts the pace of the bodies surrounding them.

Piper starts to sway her hips along to the beat. Her body relaxes into the rhythm and she shifts closer to Alex.

Alex matches the movement of her body. She bites down on her lip as she drinks in Piper's outfit. Figure-hugging black dress. Heels. Eyeliner. Piper must see her looking because she scoots in even closer.

Warmth oozes from their bodies as they move closer together. Piper's arms come down to rest on Alex's shoulders. It's so natural, the way they fit together. Boyfriends and emptiness and jobs and money fade away around them. They are the eye of a hurricane.

There's that heavy feeling again. Piper sinks down under the weight of Alex's gaze.

It's unclear how it happened, but one song later their bodies are pressed together. Alex's hands are on Piper's hips. Their proximity mixed with the alcohol ensures an explosion. They're running on chemicals and gut instincts.

She arcs into Alex's body, craving her touch everywhere. Lips are at her neck, planting kisses along smooth skin. A tongue is hot against her collarbone.

This doesn't make any sense. Piper knows it. But all of a sudden, thoughts are irrelevant. Desire has sunk its claws into her and she can only listen to her body.

Piper's fingertips ease their way under Alex's chin and she lifts her head up slightly. Alex takes the bait and leans into a fervent kiss. Their lips move together like they know exactly what they're doing.

Inevitable. Once again, Alex gets the sensation that this is right.

"C'mon," she murmurs, urging Piper away from the dance floor.

She is led into an empty bathroom stall. It smells like roses and cigarettes and sweat. A hand is on her waist. Her back hits a wall. Fingers are prying her tight black dress up above her hips. Teeth graze her bottom lip.

AVANT

It's almost midnight. Alex's throat is dry and burning from too many cigarettes. She had to go out and buy a second packet – she'd just about smoked 25 today.

Her apartment building is deserted with the exception of Jackson who lives two doors down.

Don't talk to me don't talk to me don't talk to me don't-

"Hey, Alex!"

Fuck.

"Hi."

She's about to rush up the steps when he asks,

"How's Piper doin'? I haven't seen her 'round in a while. I miss her. She's a sweet girl, that one."

Something in Alex is close to cracking open.

"Uh, she's fine. I guess."

"That's good. You know, it's Valentine's Day tomorrow."

"Huh."

"You got her anything? If not, you better get on that. Nice girl like that deserves to be spoilt."

Alex feigns an appreciative nod and hurries up the stairs.

They're outside her building. Their van is parked right outside her window – a big, ugly conspicuous thing. She closes her blinds and sinks into the sofa.

She pulls the pills out of her jacket pocket and shoves them in her mouth. They nearly choke her on their way down. She starts to cough.

It's so dark in her apartment all of a sudden. Whilst standing to get a glass of water, she almost trips over the damn coffee table. As she's reaching for a glass, her vision starts to fade. Darkness creeps around the corners of her sight and she fumbles to find the light switch. No luck.

The fall comes first. Then nothing.

"Got everything, Larry?" Vic, a tall twenty-something with gangly legs questions.

Larry has his fingers firmly wrapped around a large briefcase. "You're darn right I do."

Their eyes squint as they adjust to the darkness of Alex's apartment. Larry's free hand trails along the arm of a sofa as he tries to manoeuvre his way around the space. Vic flicks the light switch and Larry makes his way to Alex's bedroom. On the way, he almost trips over her unconscious body.

"Shit!"

Vic rushes to Larry's side, wide-eyed.

"Is that normal?"

"Yeah. Those pills are pretty strong. Considering what we're about to do, this is good. Come on, help me lift her."

The springs on her bed groan as they not-so-delicately set her down.

"Jesus, man. You could try to be a little more careful."

Larry just rolls his eyes.

Together, they begin to set up. A helmet is placed over Alex's head – metal prongs nudging at her temples. A computer is connected to the helmet and her brain activity flares up on the screen in waves and lines.

Vic rushes to grab a couple of chairs but all Alex has is the sofa. They settle for the floor instead.

"Alright, it's show time." Excitement shines in Larry's eyes as he rapidly hits keys on the keyboard.

Vic's status as a rookie means that he isn't permitted to touch the keys with Larry present, but if something were to happen to Larry, he could finish the job semi-decently. This means a shitload of boredom because nothing ever happens to Larry. So, Vic shuffles closer to the bed to get a better look at his customer.

"It's Alex, right?"

"Yup. That's right."

"She's kinda hot."

Tall. Kind of curvy. Tight jeans. Dark hair. Full lips. Vic is into her. Well, as much as a guy can be into someone who isn't conscious.

After staring at her for a solid minute, something clicks.

"Do you remember that chick from last week?"

Larry sighs. He knows what's coming. "Yeah?"

"I think this is her girlfriend. Like. Her hot lesbian girlfriend."

"I know."

"What was her name? Pretty, blonde…"

Instantly, Larry replies, "Piper."

"Do you know her or something."

"Yeah. She's my girlfriend."

MÉMOIRE

A week. One whole fucking week has passed by and Piper hasn't replied to one goddamn call. Not one. But, Alex is determined to patch things up. She deserves the silent treatment. With this in mind, she strides through the library with purpose, gift in hand.

There she is.

Sitting behind the counter is Piper, looking fresh-faced and happy. Something in Alex's gut twists.

"Pipes. Hey."

Piper looks up with gentle eyes, a smile gracing her lips. But something is wrong. Her face holds all the cordiality of a kind stranger acknowledging her on the street. There's no real recognition; nothing that says, 'hey, we fucked fifteen days ago and you giggled in my ear while I toyed with the idea of us travelling overseas.'

"Hello, can I help you with anything?"

Alex's throat tightens and she physically forces herself to keep it together. She's pretending that she doesn't know Alex. Fine. It's probably deserved.

"I just wanted to give you something." From her jacket pocket she pulls out two tickets and lays them on the counter.

"The Cranberries. I thought it'd be kinda fun. Besides, I hear that the lead singer does this crazy dance with her hips when she sings Zombie…"

Now Piper looks sympathetic. Alex wants to punch herself in the throat.

"I'm sorry…I think you have me mistaken for someone else."

Alex bites the inside of her cheek.

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened. Just…please talk to me, okay?"

Alex's mouth is forming her next sentence when some slimy guy slides out from next to Piper, his arm secured around her waist.

"Look, I think you should go."

"Oh," Alex's voice starts to crack. "I get it now. Wow. Have a nice fucking life as a WASP with your greasy fucking boyfriend, Piper."

Tears start to form in her eyes so she turns around and runs away from a collapsing memory into the comfort of darkness.

Alex rests her head in her hands. A sigh falls from her lips. She feels pathetic, sitting in her girlfriend's – ex-girlfriend's – best friend's apartment, asking for an explanation.

"Uh…Can I get you anything?" It's a polite question but Polly's tone is one of obligation.

"No, thank you." Alex can't conceal her bitterness.

They have never been able to ease into each other's company and mesh. With Piper around, things are peachy fucking keen with the exception of a few sly comments here and there. But now, all fronts are down.

A minute of silence ticks by before Polly knots her fingers together and leans forward.

"Look, Alex. I'm sorry, but don't you think that Piper would have called you by now if she wanted to? She clearly doesn't give a shit. I mean, if I were you, I'd leave her be. It's probably for the best."

Yeah, the best for you. Now you can have her all to yourself. Cunt.

Alex runs a hand over her hair.

Pete, Polly's boyfriend, strolls through the apartment in his boxers. His plan to grab a cup of milk is halted when he sees Alex.

"Hey! Long-time no see!"

Alex scoffs. "Yeah."

"What are you ladies up to?"

"Oh, nothing," Polly mumbles. "Go back to bed, babe. I'll be there in a sec"

Pete nods and retrieves his glass of milk. On his way back to bed, he stops in front of Alex and says, "It's a shame about Piper, isn't it?"

He doesn't see Polly's frantic hand-across-neck gestures.

"That whole memory erasing thing is a bit freaky to me."

Polly groans loudly. "God, Pete! We weren't supposed to say anything!"

"Wait," Alex says, looking from Pete to Polly. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Too late now," Polly grumbles while reaching for an envelope on the table. She quickly hands it to Alex.

A small card sits inside the paper. Alex pulls it out and adjusts her glasses to read the small print.

'Piper Chapman has had Alex Vause erased from her memory. Please never mention their relationship to her again. Thank you.'