Well, if you thought it was bumpy now...you just wait. ;) Anyway, enjoy chapter 8! And as always, feel free to leave reviews and even ask questions which I will happily answer in following chapters! The very special quotes in this chapter I'll drink to that! followed by You'd drink to anything! is dedicated to my grandmother who passed away in June. May she rest in peace and always keep those Irish eyes smiling. 3

NSFW WARNING.

"Well, it's certainly been a while, hasn't it?" That white mass of pill, skinny legs and all, stands with his hands clasped together and observing the memories of the previous evening. His voice is just as calm as the emotions remember, "It looks like we had a relapse, hm?" He'll turn to the others who are standing side by side, "Now how about one at a time, you guys tell me what happened."

"Ask Sadness!" Anger will forcefully push her forward, "It's all her fault!"

But Motivation will shake his body just a little, the only way he can really nod, "No need to go shifting blame, let's discuss calmly and rationally." Even so, since it's been brought to light, "Sadness?" he'll give her the spotlight.

She'll twiddle her fingers, feet turned in as she speaks, "Well, I took dream duty last night. But halfway through the night she woke up, nobody else did. I-It was just me. I had a bad feeling she was going to do something stupid...so I thought sending her the memories of when she used to self harm would help her to...not want to do that again. But I guess it sort of did the opposite."

"The idiot triggered her!" Forgive Anger, but they haven't needed Motivation in years and it's bothering him more than he cares to admit that they're speaking with him once again. He feels like a failure.

But Motivation, however, understands, "Relapses will happen. Recovery is never truly over with mental illness. You can't recover without relapse. Now, Sadness. Did she do it only once? Or more than once?"

"...Just once."

"Well, that's great!" It's a genuine praise, "That means she recognized what she did and is ready to make sure she doesn't fall down the same path. So you guys should be very proud of Riley."

But Joy needs to let him know, "Well, she's facing her first heart break, supposedly Carissa cheated...though I have my doubts-"

"It's denial." Says a passive aggressive Disgust.

"I have my doubts." Spoken firmly, "But...I just wanted to know if there's anything we can do to help make the process easier for Riley?"

"Of course there is! First, everyone take your seats at the controls and I'll explain." He watches the others do as instructed and the view of the city streets can be seen in view. Clearly Riley is out and about. It looks like she's indulging in a little retail therapy, "First of all, what she's doing right now is always good- getting out of the house and treating herself to things. Constructive activities are always good, and making sure she's surrounded by friends can be a wonderful thing." But he also has another important point to make, "Now this one might be a little harder for all of you, but it's the only way to heal. If you see Carissa, if she tries to say hello or talk to Riley. You cannot ignore her. In order for Riley to move on, she'll need closure. The only way to get closure is to speak to Carissa should she try to communicate with her. Do you understand?"

"I just think that might to more harm than good." Fear is already trembling just thinking about it, "We all still love her."

"And that's okay, it's expected in fact. But it's the only way...and I know you guys can do it. Trust your instinct and trust Riley. You'll see. In time, it's going to get better."

Trust your instinct, he says. This prompts Joy to place her hand on her chin, deep in thought. Everything in her gut tells her that something fishy is going on. No matter how hard she tries to admit defeat, she can't. Deep down, she just doesn't think Carissa is capable of cheating. The sonnets she would recite and the tenderness of her love and care, it doesn't add up. The others may not be on her side, but that doesn't matter. Sure, she'll do whatever's in her power to help Riley heal, but she won't give up hope either. There's still a chance. She knows it.

It's been a few days. The big party is tonight. The one she swore she'd go to. She can't possibly back out of it now. If nothing else, retail therapy will at least perk her mood up enough for tonight's events. It's been awhile since she's attended any large social gatherings and knowing Carl, it's going to be a packed house. This is good preparation. Not to mention, she feels awesome in the clothes she's bought for tonight. The bag is held tightly in hand as she boards home feeling surprisingly confident. For tonight she has one promise to herself.

To forget old what's-her-name.

She won't talk about her, she won't think about her and if anyone brings her up, then...she'll just drink a beer instead. In short, Riley needs this. And when she arrives home, she'll do her best to stay motivated.

[text: Carl]: You still comin tonight?

[text: Riley]: I promised my best girl so I kind of have to lmao I'd be a shitty best friend

[text: Carl]: Yes you would lmaoooo

[text: Carl]: But I'm pumped to see you! Gotta joint here that's strictly for me and you so i got you Andersen

[text: Riley]: You're the best thanks so much bro

[text: Riley]: What time should I head over? I forgot what you said the other day because I really wasn't paying attention tbh

[text: Riley]: Like the minute you said 'idk do you think this could be herpes' i checked the fuck out

[text: Carl]: Asshole lmao and FYI it wasn't I'm allergic to Tide laundry detergent should it ever come up :P

[text: Carl]: And I've got a few people comin at 6 to help get shit set up and fix up the guest rooms and basement and whatever but i'm gonna assume you don't wanna come til the actual party starts since that's only 15 mins from now so between 8 and 9 is good unless you wanna wait to get here until everyone is already kinda drunk

[text: Riley]: I'll get there around 8:30-9 PM or 9:30 depending on the traffic I'm gonna take the bus to the 'burbs- thanks again! see you in a bit! :)

Her phone is placed on her desk and she'll sigh. She's sitting on her bed, legs bouncing and spread apart. her elbows are resting on her knees, and she's fiddling her fingers around.

'You guys ready?' Joy takes a breath.

'Ready.' In unison.

She'll stand, cross to the bathroom. The door will be shut with a soft click. She stares at herself in the mirror. A single hand will reach the top of her head to pull her beanie right off, allowing it to lazily fall to the ground. The medicine cabinet is opened. Dad's electric razor. The switch is flicked. The buzzing is almost deafening. Now or never.

The left side of her head. Right across and past the ear. The medium brown locks of hair fall into the sink. Over and over and over.

The scissors are next. Cold to the touch as she reaches the right side this time. Snipping away.

Snip, snip, snip.

The sink is coated by now, and what remains reaches only just below her ears and to the middle of her cheeks.

She steps back, stripping completely. Shower. A hot, quick shower. She'll wash her hair, and nothing else. There's no need.

She exits. Wipes the mirror down. And she will shake her head like a dog coming out of the rain. A blow dryer, she'll push her hair around, wanting it just the right way. Short and messy and freshly buzzed on one side. The hair is tousled around- her side bang combed back in place with her fresh cut, carefully gelled before she's placing that beanie back on.

She'll dress.

Light wash skinny jeans covered in rips and tears of all sizes. Her deep green docs, a black fitted v-neck t-shirt, her very brand new fitted light leather jacket- black and with silver snap buttons, collar popped. her makeup is done. subtle smokey.

S and dressed to K I L L.

'My god we look great!'

'I must say Joy, you're right. We are rockin' the tomboy look, I'm so impressed! Eat your heart out, girl-who-will-not-be-named!'

'She looks like a million bucks, And surprisingly I'm not feeling self conscious by this sudden haircut! We're gonna kill it tonight!'

She'll smirk in the mirror, extremely happy with the finished look.

'Now let's grab her phone and wallet and go catch the bus, guys!'

"Bye mom and dad, going to Carl's, probably sleeping over and if not I gotta' ride!"

"Okay honey, text us if you need to! Don't drink!"

"I won't!" L I A R.

The suburbs always make her nostalgic. Even though Minnesota is a distant memory of the past, it's still a place she can remember so vividly in many respects. She once lived in the comforts of innocent suburbia. Would she be a different person if the hustle and bustle of city life hadn't become her home? She turns down the third block and, dear god, it'll shock her every single time, no matter how often she's here, just how big these houses are. Carl's family is well off, that's not a secret. It's just a little detail she often forgets because he's so not like the people on this block (some of which do attend their school), there's no pretentious attitude, no need for him to flaunt his money. It's why they get along so well. Carl is a genuine guy. She adores that about him.

It's extremely obvious when his house is close approaching. The faint sound of very loud, obnoxious teenagers can be heard. The bass of the music is already hitting the pit of her soul. A stereotypical high school house party indeed. But who cares? It may be entirely stereotypical, but that doesn't mean it isn't fun. She takes a deep breath.

'Alright, everyone take a deep breath. Like we all discussed, we can leave early if we get overwhelmed, but let's have a good time for as long as possible!'

'I'll drink to that!'

'You'd drink to anything!'

Her hands are shoved into her pockets before stepping into the very crowded house, she'll give a friendly nod to a few people who point her out, ecstatic to see her here. It's enough for her to return a smile to them. But she makes her way to the back yard in search of Carl. She needs that joint in order to ease the nerves. She could be here- no. No thinking about her. Riley steps onto the deck where she'll be greeted almost immediately, "Baaaaaabe!"

Dressed in an off white romper with a very 70′s-esque floral design is Amanda, who's clearly past the point of no return, "Oh my god! Did you cut your hair again?! It looks soooo good! Lookit you, so hot! You're gonna' make everyone jealous! I'm so glad you're here! How are you, sweetie?!" An arm is snaked around Riley.

That's enough to force the taller girl to lean forward. Amanda is decently shorter than her. She's petite, but curvy. And honestly Riley can't even count the amount of times she's lost this girl in a crowd of people because of it, "You little light-weight, how many Smirnoff's is that?"

"Juuuust two!"

She'll laugh.

"You gotta' dance with me! And we need selfies, bestie! Will you take selfie's with me?!"

She'll hug Amanda, mostly to help her to not fall, "Yes to all of the above, but lemme catch up with you first, alright, drunkie? I'm gonna grab a Coors Light and find Carl, save me a dance."

'That girl is gone.'

'Her tits are so fucking perfect.'

'Disgust, what the fuck!?'

'What! We're single now, so it's fine to say that! Besides, we used to talk to you-know-who about threesomes with her all the time and how fun it would be to tag team her.'

'How about we don't talk about her? Remember the pact?'

Eventually she finds who she's looking for, and she's more than happy to bro-fist him and share that joint in the solitude of his bedroom. By this point she's on her second beer, "I promised myself I wouldn't talk about her, but." Damn the alcohol, just as she takes another hit and passes it off to Carl, "Is she gonna' be here tonight?"

He takes it from her, "Listen, don't hate me...but I did invite her. She's...still my best friend. I'm not saying what she did wasn't shitty but-" On that note, he'll take a long, deep inhale.

"No, no, it's fine. I can be mature about this. It'd be shitty of me to tell you not to talk to her anymore."

Carl is so relieved to hear this as he exhales, and once again he passes it right back to Riley, "But if it makes you feel better, she's not coming tonight. She said she wasn't in a party mood."

'Why the hell did we ask about her? You KNOW she's not here because of us.'

'Well if you ask me, that's so petty of her!'

'We almost didn't go because of her either.'

'Yeah, but we still DID.'

"...Is she not here because of me?" Now she feels like shit.

"Do you want me to be honest?"

"Yeah."

"...Yeah. She said it hurts too much to see you."

Riley doesn't say a word. It was so stupid to bring Carissa up, even after she promised herself she wouldn't. If this isn't the biggest mood kill. She'll drops the finished joint into the ashtray on the boy's nightstand before she'll finally meet his gaze again, "Hey, can I have another beer?"

"Guys, I don't think we should do this." Sadness is nervously adjusting her glasses, "Getting drunk when she's in a bad mood could make her really sad."

"Not to mention when we try to do our jobs at the controls it doesn't work right." Fear is agreement with Sadness. Because that's what happens when Riley gets drunk. The main screen because very distorted and blurry at times. At least when she moves too fast or is trying too hard to hyper focus on something. And if they try to make her do certain things via the controls, it doesn't always work.

Even worse? The emotions become prone to becoming...reckless. They all act on impulse. They become erratic, incapable of lying. Whatever they feel, they do, no questions asked.

"If you ask me, we need to get a little drunk!" Disgust is already there, "Let's go dance with our totally hot best friend and pretend Carissa's trashy ass doesn't exist."

And already Sadness is feeling it too, as quickly as she uttered the warning, "It's not that we actually think she's trashy...it just...it really hurts that we don't have her anymore. She's all we want."

"We owe Amanda a dance!" And then there's Joy, who acts on anything happy she can get her mind on, "Let's go find her and dance! She's probably with the football players playing beer pong on the deck! His backyard is so big and pretty, let's go, go, go!"

Four and a half beers guzzled down in a span of an hour. Riley Andersen is all caught up. Lucky for her, she's pretty good on foot as she only nearly trips upon exiting the Segreti household. She'll slowly creep behind her best friend who is cheering on one of the many jocks who's apparently destroying the opposing beer pong team, according to his own jubilant praise. It's an abrupt action. Her arms wrap themselves around Amanda's waist from behind, pull her away from the beer pong table, "C'mere, you!"

Her cackle is much louder...bubblier than usual, "We were winning! Except I wasn't playing."

"You owe me a dance, babe!" Already she's swaying the two of them, arms refusing to let go.

But Amanda eases into this with no hesitation, "Okay, I'll tell them to turn off this shitty song, they like love me. They think I'm gorgeous."

"Because you are."

"Shhhhh!" Finally she'll wiggle out of her best friends grip, "GUYS PUT ON NOT SHITTY MUSIC!"

'Fuck, even her ass is perfect. If I had it my way, she'd be in her cheer uniform and I'd eat it like thanksgiving dinner. She's a fucking babe.'

'She's not Carissa she's not good enough.'

'I bet she sounds sexy in the sheets.'

'I just want Carissa.'

'I fucking hate Carissa!'

'Amanda is so hot'

'I love Carissa.'

'I bet she rides a strap on like a champ.'

Well, it looks like Amanda really does have these boys wrapped around her finger. The music is changed right on command. And she comes running back to her best friends side, "I love this song, dance with me!"

Another laugh, Riley's hands are already grabbing her waist, pushing their hips right against one another, hips rolling. Which, in truth, is more than enough to get the sex crazed football players to stop their little game of stroke-my-ego to watch. Riley and Amanda aren't even the only ones dancing, but these two girls are the only ones anyone cares about right now.

'She's so gorgeous, look at her. Those lips are askin' for it.'

Amanda is sighing, her arms wrapping around Riley's neck, "Mhhh, headache."

"S'cause you got your hair in this tight messy bun." One hand slides from Amanda's waist and up her body, reaching that black hair tie, pulling it free. And she'll watch the beautiful, thick blonde hair loosely compliment her shoulders, falling to the middle of her chest. Riley's judgement is clouded. Her lips, they're drawn to her best friend's ear. They'll whisper, "I like you best with your hair down."

"Mhhh, Riley are you tryina' seduce me?" But Amanda isn't pulling away.

Riley, however, does; slowly, eyeing her friend.

'Guys, don't do it.'

'We gotta' do it.'

"I hope tha'didn't offend you, Riley, juss' askin', cutie." There's that adorable giggle again. Egging her on.

'Don't do it! She's our best friend!'

'We gotta' do it.'

Her hands, from Amanda's waist, to cupping her cheeks. Both parties are leaning in closer, their lips nearly touching.

'Guys-'

The gap is closed between them. It's raunchy and pornographic the way they kiss. Mouths open wide, tongues with minds of their own. Heads tilted. Their hands grabbing unspeakable places.

They don't even care that an entire cluster of boys are cheering them on as if they're getting a free show. Some actually disgusting enough to whip out their phones to capture the moment.

And Carl, who's beyond trashed himself, is encouraging it, "Take her upstairs! She's so good in the sack! Take her, Riley! Get your rebound let's go! Get her- get some! Fucking get some, Andersen!"

They're not even paying attention. They can only focus on the feverish, drunken kissing. But one thing is in fact registered.

Fucking get some, Andersen!

'We always bottom with Carissa unless she's in the mood.'

'We deserve this rebound.'

'We deserve the chance to dominate.'

'Let's destroy her. Let's make her scream.'

She takes both her wrists, "You wanna' play, sweetheart?"

Amanda, completely gone, just as gone as Riley, "Play with me, gorgeous, I'm yours."

But Riley never gets to be dominant and this lapse of judgement is taking complete control. Hard. She's pulling the girl right back against her. Stomachs pressed together, and she'll lean right down. Lips closing against the sensitive skin of her best friend's neck. She'll only draw back when those enticing moans become too much for her to handle, and she'll trail sweet kisses up to her ear, "Tell me to fuck you."

"Mh-Riley-!" She doesn't push her away. She presses a hand to Riley's back. She wants her closer.

"Tell me to fuck you, Amanda."

"Fuck me, Riley. Take me upstairs and fuck me!"

'You're all going to regret this tomorrow.'