New chapter! I really like how this story is going, what do you think?

I own nothing. I can't really stress this enough. I work as a receptionist at a salon and go to high school. My parents pay for pretty much everything I have.

December 12, 2021

"Hey sweetie. How are you?"

Claire looks around at the bar for a second and then just decides that it's Massie, so there is no chance of lying. "I signed the divorce papers an hour ago." She says it all as clearly as she can into the phone so Massie can't tell she's already slurring. Oh course, Massie can always tell, just the same way that Claire can always tell with Massie.

"I know. Where are you? I'll come over."

Okay, so Claire has to admit it: she isn't completely sure where she is. She left the attorney's office with a mission set, but she can't remember where she decided to go or when she decided to come to this bar. She can't exactly tell where she went.

"Give me to the bartender, Claire," Massie says soothingly. Claire looks at the bartender expectantly, and holds out her cell. He takes it. She hates herself for doing this, she really does. She can only hope that Josh feels worse.

"Manhattan. The one on 25th avenue. I'll tell her." He hangs up and hands Claire the phone. "She says you're supposed to call her before you get drunk."

Claire smiles softly and looks down into her drink. It's probably the best Long Island Iced Tea she's ever had. Maybe it just tastes better because of the divorce. Or maybe Kevin, the bartender, is a genius. She smiles up at him. Yeah, it's definitely because of the divorce. Kind of like how when you're hungry, everything tastes better: when you're sad, drinks slide down the throat easier.

"You're cut off," he says in that decisive way that she hates.

"No. Cut me off when Massie tells you to. Otherwise I'm good." Massie can always tell when it's time. Claire downs the rest of her drink, looks at him with pleading eyes.

He licks his lips and hands her another, tapping his finger on the tip jar as he pulls his hand away. So this is how it's gonna go down. She digs in her purse for a long time and pulls out a crumpled twenty and slips it into the jar. Kevin gives her a thumbs up and then goes to take care of another customer.

Just as she's halfway done with the tea a guy next to her puts his hand on her arm. She pulls away. His fingers grip a little too hard and his touch is too unfamiliar. If she had better balance, she would punch him for touching her.

"Whoa, little lady. I just wanna know your name," he says. He talks like he's from the south, all charm and small-town sweetness.

"It's 'fuck off'," Claire spits. "What's yours?"

"Geez, just tryin' to be friendly," he glares and looks somewhere behind her. "Tell your friend to settle down," he says to someone else, and Claire turns and sees Massie. Massie sits down and gives the guy the finger, who slides down a few stools to expand the distance between them. Claire giggles.

"Hey." Massie leans in for a hug and takes a deep sniff. "She's cut off," she says loudly enough to Kevin to hear. He nods towards them and than continues his conversation with another patron.

"It's only been an hour or so," Claire complains, once again trying really hard to talk like she's sober, but she's nodding too much and her eyes are having trouble focusing.

"Yeah? That doesn't change the fact that you're plastered," Massie says and Claire shakes her head because Massie always sounds so disappointed at times like this. It makes Claire feel like shit.

"I just got divorced. If I need to get properly drunk I'll just leave," Claire says and she feels angry, angry at the whole world. Or maybe just Josh. Or the guy next to her, or Kevin for cutting her off. She isn't sure, but she's done with this place. She's sick of being angry and she's sick of thinking about the divorce. She's really tired. She needs to go to sleep, but she too mad now so she tries to walk away from Massie.

"Now, now," Massie murmurs and pulls Claire back to the barstool. Claire falls back on to it and wobbles slightly. She is drunk. "I didn't mean to make you feel worse. But this is only going to amount to a really bad hangover in the morning." She pulls a water over that Kevin just set down and slides it towards Claire, who downs half of it just to please her friend. God, she's thirsty.

"I know. But I just..." She trails off because she's going to start crying, and she wonders if it's possible to get to flat-out weepy drunk in a little under an hour. Massie rubs her back. She slides off her ring, that stupid ring, and slaps it down on the bar. "Put it somewhere. I don't wanna see it," she whimpers and lays her head down on the bar. God, it already hurts. Everything just sort of hurts and she's so tired.

"What do you want me to do with it?" Massie asks but takes it and puts it in her pocket anyway. The ring catches the light just as it disappears in Massie's pocket, and Claire doesn't think she'll ever forget it. That last glimmer, that last, screaming sparkle she saw in the ring just before it disappeared from her life completely.

"I don't know. Send it to his mother. Pawn it. Thrown it into the Hudson. I don't care."

They sit like that for a while, with Massie rubbing her back and her crying all over the bar and Kevin sets water after water in front of her.

"I think she's ready for an aspirin." He nods and dives under, finally handing her a little pill. Massie smiles and holds it between her manicured fingers, offering it to Claire.

"That's a strong one. Don't take another 'til morning," he advises. Massie nods and coaxes Claire into swallowing it. God, stupid divorce. Stupid Josh. Stupid, stupid, stupid New York and alcohol and headaches. She just wants to sleep and cry. Thankfully Massie has gotten her to stand up and is leading her outside, where she flags down a cab and they pile in. It's snowing.

It's December, and it's New York, so everything is beautiful and she can see all the wreaths and lights up in the city. She hates how it's all so beautiful, and she just got a divorce. The world isn't allowed to look pretty when she's so bad.

"You're coming to my place, okay? Didn't you take some time off?" Massie asks. Claire nods and starts bobbing her head to Journey's "Don't Stop Believin". Massie sings along softly and they ride to Massie's apartment together, Claire staring out the window at all the beautiful things and crying. The tears swim down her face, marking her for all eternity.

Claire Lyons it twenty-six years old, drunk, and she just got a divorce.

May 2, 2017

Josh finally asked Claire out months later, after one of her early classes. She was still groggy from sleep, when he'd intercepted her on the way back to her apartment for a quick snooze. Her hair was a little messy and tangled, in a high ponytail-bun thing. Her eyes weren't completely open and she carried a blue messenger back, slung over her shoulder, filled with giant, expensive textbooks. The air was filled with a sort of melancholy lightness. Graduation was in a few weeks, and everyone was posing for pictures, picking out outfits, getting numbers and talking about getting together after they all get jobs.

Josh and Claire have talked quite a bit since the night they broke up with Alicia and Cam. It was mostly a therapy thing. He needed someone to talk to about it and she needed someone to help her remember to do her laundry. Otherwise, she totally forgets.

"Hey!" he said and she smiled at him, her eyes all lighting up at once. He can see her teeth, white against her red lips.

"Hi," she says, really softly but happily. He feels his throat getting dry and swallows.

"Um, so I was wondering if you would go out sometime? With me?" He looks down, kicks a pebble, feels like a dork. She nods. He can see her hair catching the bright sun in his peripheral vision.

"Sure. What did you have in mind?" Her eyes are inquiring, but he knows she has her own ideas.

"Whatever. We could do the classic dinner and a movie, or we could just..." He shrugs.

"We could just get some good pizza, if you want," she says. "Also, I've never gotten to do the whole "New York Tourist" thing, so-"

"Yeah! Let's do that. Um, I'll be at your place then. Friday, six or so."

"Sure."

"Okay."

He stands in the same place for a long time, watching her walk back to her dorm.

May 5, 2017

She's wearing worn, distressed looking jeans that frame that perfect ass all too well. Her hair is down and shimmers under the lights of the city, and her shoes are red Chuck Taylors. He can see that her lips and shiny and her hands are calloused, rough. She says it's from her major, photography.

They walk around for a long time. Her legs are long and she walks beautifully, showcasing every line, every muscle. He stares. She shows him her favorite pizza place and they pass few groups of giant families, decked out in their t-shirts and disposable cameras.

"Oh, man. I totally forgot . . ." Claire pouts a little. Josh raises his eyebrows. She looks so cute.

"What?"

"Well, we said we would do the tourist thing... But I forgot a fanny pack." She tries to pout some more but lets out a laugh instead. He threads all his fingers through hers and laughs with her. She's beautiful and funny and he loves her. She's been counting the stereotypical tourists all night, and so far has gotten twenty-two. She finds this hilarious.

"I also count mullets in Wal-Mart," she says at one point and he busts out laughing.

They make it to The Met, with it's long, wide row of steps, where she squeals. "Oh, I'm gonna be just like Rocky!" She starts running up the stairs at a frenzied pace, laughing like a crazy person. He can hear her yelling out the theme song of the Rocky Balboa boxing movies. Da-naaa-na, na-na-naaaa.. . .

"That was in Philly!" He yells up but she apparently doesn't care, or something, because she's still running. He starts walking up them to meet her at the top.

When he gets there, she's three steps from the very top, panting. "I can't go on," she says and giggles, but doesn't move. The steps to the Met aren't even very high; Josh doesn't know why she's stopped. But she's sitting there with her cheeks flushed and her breath puffing out in short bursts and so he doesn't say anything. He rests just two steps lower than her. Her legs are stretched out; the tip of her Chuck Taylors touches his knee. His head is buzzing. They are exactly in the middle of the steps. The moon is high and very yellow in the sky.

He looks up. Her cheeks and pink and she looks happy, like this is all it takes for her to find bliss.

Then she slides down the two steps to him and kisses him on the lips. Her hair tickles his cheek and he can feel her smiling against his lips.

The kiss is soft and lasts a second. It's fleeting, like a whisper, or a secret, and paints his lips with her breathless, vibrant soul.

First kisses are so cute! Reviews are appreciated. Also, I will be posting the "Rocky" video link on my profile, along with a pic of The Met, so you guys can picture that scene a little easier. Thanks for reading!