Chapter Three

The orange bobbing heads of the roses swam into focus in the stinging light of her bedroom. Amber awoke to the furry stale taste of sour alcho-pops in her mouth and the remaining light-headedness from the alcohol. She rubbed her eyes, lashes sticking together and the make-up she had left on pulling apart, leaving dark smudges on her fingers and already tear-stained cheeks. Hazily, she tried to separate the shattered bits and pieces of her fitful dreams and fit them together, only to find the memories would not return as she wanted... Just the feeling of misery remained...

The party had quietened down, the music no longer thumping through the floor, a quick glance at her clock told her she had slept through to the early hours of the morning. She groaned heavily, rubbing her eyes again, too despondent to even care she'd missed her whole party. Swinging her legs over the side of her bed she forced herself up, tottering on her heels. The room swayed a little and the blood rushed to her head, knocking her sideways so she had to rest her hand on the dresser. In that brief moment of recovery, a flash of recollection reminded her why she was so unhappy. Her throat went dry.

Josh...

The awkward greeting, the expressionless small talk. She didn't think she could feel more humiliated than if he'd openly declared to the room that she was worthless. Tears that she fiercely tried to hold back stung her eyes, she didn't want to remember it... She could think of nothing worse than going back to that alone place where all she had were those self-pitying thoughts. She needed a way to block it out, to numb herself. The painful gnawing on her insides was just too much to bear. She knew it was self-indulgent and childish, but maybe getting completely trashed would push it from her mind for just a little while.

The door handle was in her grasp before she knew it. That was the answer, she could think of no alternative that didn't involve torturous pain. She passed down the stairs like a spectre, completely indifferent to the drunken sleepers on the stairs, leaning against the wall and slumped on the couches. It was like some kind of demented faerie realm, the manic dancers drugged with sweet fruits, collapsed into eternal slumber. Only the occasional rustle of movement and muffled sounds of people fumbling with clumsy intimacy in the dark broke the illusion. She felt separate from them, like she really was a spirit just passing through their sex-obsessed, drink fuelled world, but she so wanted to be a part of it. To be as callous and unfeeling as them, then maybe everything else would stop hurting. Maybe she could forget about the pain ripping holes in her insides. Maybe the terror of being alone would leave her.

The kitchen light was still on, she wondered if there was any fruit left for her.

She retrieved the key to her parent's alcohol cupboard with an exact picture in her mind of what she was after, the old whiskey her dad drank on special occasions. She found it easily, hidden behind the gins, rums and various other liqueurs that were used more often. Hoisting herself up onto the counter, she turned the bottle in her hands, considering it. The light rippled on the smooth glass surface, the amber liquid looked harmless enough, it sloshed with a light sound in the bottle. She knew her mother hated her drinking spirits and it would definitely be missed if she didn't replace it... She twisted the cap. She didn't care. So what if she got in trouble with her parents? She couldn't care less right now. Eighteen years of good behaviour deserved some kind of allowance she reasoned. Not bothering to add any kind of mixer, she closed her eyes and lifted it to her lips.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

A gentle pressure on the end of the bottle stopped her before she could drink, she opened her eyes to confront the obstruction. They just widened in surprise.

It was him, the white-haired boy who had crept into her bedroom, in her obsessive self pity she had forgotten that he even existed. Or at least that was the excuse she gave herself for experiencing the same shameless reaction to him as she had before. His scrutinising yet striking blue eyes made her heart stop in her chest, a thrill of excitement jolting through her. She was stunned.

He tightened his grip on the bottle and pried it gently from her fingers, setting it on the counter beside her. The chink of glass on the worktop made her jump out of her daze, Amber glared at him.

"It's my party, I can do what I want."

That smouldering azure bore intently through her, she was sober enough now to know for sure that it was not the drink doing this to her. This boy's presence was overwhelming, even though he wasn't even touching her, the closeness of his hands on the counter either side of her thighs made her shiver unconsciously.

"You don't want to be like them."

He didn't give any indication of who he was referring to, but it was quite clear who he meant – everyone else in her house. Then as if on cue, a clearly audible sound of someone vomiting came from the next room, evoking a chorus of sleepy disgusted groans from the sleepers. Amber cringed at the idea of having to clear up after whoever it was.

"Do you?"

He was closer now, leaning in and still not quite touching her, she shook her head mutely.

He lifted his hand and she flinched, an instinctive reaction to the quick movement, he looked surprised at her frightened jerk.

"Your make-up is still smudged," he explained, his arm fixed in place, as though he were waiting for her permission.

She couldn't quite bring herself to look up into the dazzling yet empty cold of those eyes, she already felt her heart was beating ridiculously loud. She bit her lip, embarrassed, but didn't move to stop him. The gesture seemed harmless enough. Taking her silence as consent, he touched his fingertips to her face, resting his palm against her cheek.

She shuddered with the strange thrill that ran through her body at his caressing fingertips and clenched her teeth hard to stop the accompanying sharp intake of breath. He had closed his eyes, and she heard him utter a sigh of something that sounded like relief. Her eyes flickered up to catch his gaze lowered beneath his sooty lashes. She couldn't help the tightening feeling in her stomach at that sound, the carnal look on his face. He had held his breath waiting to touch her.

Then the moment passed, his face mellowed into a mask of calm and he stepped back to lean on the table. Just as she was about to speak to ask what had happened, he raised a finger to stop her.

"Amber Emmett..." he whispered, trying the name on his tongue, his words thick like honey.

She frowned, "I'm sorry... I still don't know who you came here with, I don't think I've ever met you before."

She paused for a second, waiting for him to correct her and re-introduce himself as someone's friend or boyfriend she had met once before and forgotten, but he just stared at her, a smug smile playing on his lips.

"Err... Who did you come here with? What's your name?"

The boy's grin widened, a dazzling smile that made her sure she couldn't have forgotten him. She had never met him. He wasn't here with anyone. No one had mentioned bringing a guest she wouldn't have met.

"My name is Julian... And I came here alone."

She shuffled down from the counter, "Then... What are you doing here exactly? You weren't invited, I don't know you-"

"Oh you know me... From a very long time ago."

"Where?"

"Would you believe me if I said a previous life?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Excuse me?"

He fixed that devastating gaze on her, "Would you believe me if I told you the reason I came here was because I loved you?"

Amber almost burst into laughter it was only the complete seriousness on his face that stopped her. He didn't laugh or smile, just watched her intently, leaning back on the table, monitoring her reaction. She felt the bile rise in her throat and butterflies in her stomach, for some reason she couldn't shrug the sentence off as a corny chat-up line. He must be joking, trying to mess with her head, either that or he was mad. The completely convincing tone of his voice that almost made her believe him hurt her more than she thought possible.

"Do be serious," she snapped, "I've had a shit night and I'm not in the mood, I don't care who you are or why you decided to crash, but if you leave now I won't call the police. You have no idea what bad timing your stupid joke is."

"Why? Would the timing be better if your so-called friends were here to offer you solace and mindless advice? Or maybe you're still waiting for your unappreciative narcissistic ex-boyfriend to take you back? You know, the one who's getting intimate with your 'best friend' behind your back."

Her mouth fell open, "What!"

"Well I'll tell you something about him Amber..." he said gently, "And I'm not trying to upset you, I couldn't think of anything worse."

Her body tensed ready to run but he stepped closer, blocking her path, "I'm not joking. He didn't love you. He doesn't even know what love is and neither do you, not yet."

"Back off," she hissed, trying to shove him out of the way, "You don't know anything about me, I've never even met you!"

He caught her hands holding her in place, "I'd be lying if I said I thought this would be easy, but I don't want to play games with you anymore. I've come out and told you honestly how I feel, just like you told me I should have before. Why are you resisting it? I know you can feel something-"

"Stop it! You're insane!"

She wrenched herself out of his grasp, he went to grab her shoulders again, but recoiled as if burned. His expression turned dark.

"Alright Jenny... Have it your way. If I have to take you back into the game, I will."

She gripped the kitchen counter, he looked terrifying, almost inhuman, blue eyes ablaze with excitement and malice, his smile stretched wide exposing his white teeth like a hungry wolf. There was a bang as the kitchen door opened and the last thing she saw before she sharply turned her head was a sly wink from the eternal boy.

"Amber? Are you okay? I heard shouting."

The shouting had woken Leon, half-dressed and covered in party streamers. She turned back quickly, only to find quite astoundingly that Julian had disappeared.

She was unable to find words, "There was... A boy."

Leon raised an eyebrow, a sly smile gracing his lips as he spotted the bottle, "Have you been on the whiskey Amber?"

She shook her head, "No... No... There was a crasher, he had white hair and he was wearing all black, I tried to get him to leave but he wouldn't go. He was telling me-"

She halted abruptly, she couldn't tell Leon what Julian had said, it didn't make sense to her, let alone trying to explain it to anyone else.

Leon put his hand on his shoulder, "Well... He's gone now, I must have scared him off, are you okay?"

She nodded still flabbergasted that he had disappeared so suddenly. It wasn't possible. It was almost like magic.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, though she knew she wasn't.

Leon patted her shoulder, "I'll check all the doors are locked, he didn't go back through the longue so he must have ran off through the back. Don't worry, he was probably just some drunk idiot, he won't be back."

Amber nodded again, letting Leon guide her back to her bedroom in silence. She didn't agree with him. She knew deep down that Julian would be back. Surprisingly sleep came quite easily and as she drifted into a fitful rest she could see his blue eyes, could hear his musical laughter throughout her dreams, chasing her. She couldn't escape from him and she was terrified, unable to hide even in the darkness.

Jenny... he had said, Why had he called her Jenny?