The music pulsed through the room as Carter sat on a dingy sofa in one of the darkest corners. The air was heavy, and she drew in a breath of the stale beer scented mugginess, feeling as if the beat of the music thrummed in her chest. As she pushed some of her hair behind her ear, she saw Caspar making his way towards her. He grinned at her, his eyes hazy from the alcohol, his top lip powdery from the coke he had just snorted. He was wearing a silk shirt in a bright print, complete with droplets of spilled beer that were seeping into the fabric. The buttons of the shirt were lazily done up and he also wore a pair of ripped jeans.
Carter sighed, chewing on the side of a thumb nail as he flopped down onto the couch next to her. He leaned over, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek, leaving the aroma of sour alcohol lingering. Wrinkling her nose, Carter lightly pushed him away, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand.
"Who pissed in your cheerios?" he sniggered, leaning against the arm of the sofa, drinking down whatever was in the red plastic cup in his hand.
"You're a nightmare, Caspar! Why do I always have to make sure you're okay?" Carter asked, glaring lightly at him.
"You love me, babe, that's why," he leered at her, blowing her an air kiss. Carter scoffed, shoving his shoulder before taking a sip of her own drink. She winced as the whisky burned her throat. "You're my angel," Caspar placed his head on her shoulder, leaning into her. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
She sighed, chancing a glance down at him. His eyes were hooded, his pupils blown wide from the high, and he blinked lazily up at her. His hand came up to cup the back of her neck, fingers digging into Carter's skin and his lips were on hers. Carter winced, tasting the bitter alcohol on his breath. She shoved him off her, ripping his hand off her neck.
"Get off, Caspar," she snapped, glaring at him as he tried to kiss her again. "Not tonight! Don't be a dick!" she yelled, the music drowning out her voice as she extricated herself from the sofa and stomped away.
Carter was jolted awake by the shuddering of the plane. Her eyes were stinging as she gently opened them. She looked down seeing that a blanket had been placed over her. She stifled a yawn, sitting up and stretching her arms over her head. The rhythmic sound of typing came from left and she looked over to see her dad furiously tapping at the keys on a notebook.
"You're awake," he said without even looking up. "We're not far from Tampa, about 20 minutes til we land. Good sleep?" he asked.
"Was alright," Carter murmured, sleepily, still trying to shake off that memory of Caspar. She shook her head, reaching up to wipe the sleep away from her eyes. Combing her fingers through her hair, she sat forward on the white leather sofa of the private plane they were on. When they'd arrived at the airport a couple of hours ago, Carter had been astounded to learn that they were taking the company's private jet. She had never so much as flown on any plane, never mind a private jet, so this was all new to her. At present she was traveling without ID, something which US customs had frowned upon. They had only allowed her clearance to travel minimally within the states and they had had to apply for an emergency passport that would be issued to Carter within a couple of weeks. No doubt that was a conversation that her dad would bring up later.
Carter chanced a glance at her dad out of the corner of her eye. He was firmly focused on the screen, his eyes darting back and forth, clearly reading something. She looked over him, her thoughts wondering to how irrevocably broken she felt their relationship was. Would there be a day when she didn't feel so much resent towards him? Would she ever be able to forgive him for what he done? Every time they tried to have any form of a serious conversation, her mind would automatically conjure the image of the last time she ever saw him; the bright smile on his face as he dropped her off, his long dark blonde hair pulled back into his ponytail, his hand waving from the car window as it disappeared down the street. She sighed, just thinking about that day messed with her.
"You're staring at me. What's on your mind?" Paul looked up, closing the screen of his notebook, a curious smile on his lips.
Scratching her scalp, Carter shrugged her shoulders. "Probably not a good idea if I tell you what I was thinking."
"Carter," Paul sighed, sitting back in his seat. He rubbed his face, feeling the light stubble graze his fingertips. "Just talk to me. Please?"
She ran her fingers through her hair, letting out a deep breath.
"I don't know if I can. Those…those memories are so painful for me and you just…every time I see you, all I see is that day," Carter's voice broke and she tried to force back the tears in her eyes. She clenched her fingers together, nails digging into her palms. "I can't talk about this," she cried, throwing the blanket off her as she stood from the seat. She made a beeline for the bathroom, not stopping despite Paul's pleas for her to do so.
The door slammed behind her, the lock clicking into place. Everything was spinning and she was struggling to get air into her lungs, which burned with the effort it was taking to calm her down. Tears spilled from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks in fat drops, dripping onto her top, the counter and the floor. She hiccoughed, gasping for air, the oxygen sticking in her throat. She leaned on the countertop, staring at herself in the mirror. The images of the last time she ever saw her dad flooded her mind, interspersed with memories of her mother and Caspar.
The door shook and a chapping noise came from the other side.
"Come out, please, Carter!" Paul pleaded with her. "Let me help you," he implored. "Sweetheart," he tried again. "Don't push me away."
"Go away!" Carter managed to croak out, as she sunk to the floor of the small bathroom, bracing the soles of her converse against the door. Paul tried the door again, shaking it back and forth as Carter buried her face into her arms.
"Please, sweetheart, please come out," he tried again.
Rocking herself back and forth, the blonde tried to rid herself of the images of her past, but her mind was continuously forcing her to relive the moment that she realised she was all alone in this world.