A/N: Hi there! Thanks for reading. I've updated CH 1-4 as of July 18th.
Between lying to everyone about college, bitching out Killian Jones, losing her job and housing, Emma had finally hit a new low.
"You look like you could use a shot, Blondie." The voice came from a sandy haired young man standing around the cooler observing the party.
"Is it that obvious?" She smiled and asked.
He replied with a toothy grin. "C'mon, I think I saw some tequila in the kitchen. After a few rounds you can tell me as much or as little about it as you like."
Inside they poured a round of Jägermeister. Emma tossed hers back then waved Neal to pour another. Between shots she sipped beer, chatted about junk food addictions, and heatedly debated favorite TV show plots and finales. She loved Firefly. He was more Star Wars.
"And not the originals either. I don't care what anyone says: Jar Jar Binks is my man."
"Dear God. Pour another shot so I can pretend you didn't just say that you uncultured poser." Laughing he obliged.
"To my new friend…?" She began as she raised her glass but realized she didn't know his name.
"Neal." He supplied.
"Cheers," Emma said and let the liquor take effect.
After the third shot they moved to the couch, sitting thigh to thigh. Emma felt his warmth seep into her. It was pleasant, but that could have been the liquor talking. That smile of his wasn't too bad either although his teeth looked a little off, crooked.
Around the room people talked and laughed as music wound about them creating a pulse Emma felt in her bones. Neal put a hand under her chin, pulling her attention back onto him instead of the living room.
"I lost you," he said.
"Huh?" Emma could not remember anything he'd been talking about but the Jäger said she did not care. Instead she thought about kissing him, even turned to face him. Staring into his eyes, Emma waited for heat to spark between them. She stared into Neal's dull brown just not doing it for her good feeling gone eye then placed the hand he had on her face back into his lap as Ruby yelled at her from the back doors.
"Emma, toast time; you better not miss it like last year!"
Emma gave Neal a disappointed look but inside felt relieved. Silly, but she hadn't fallen into his eyes. That special connection was missing; the past three shots and two beers was the only fuel for any potential heat between them.
"Sorry, I'm being summoned."
"You're just going to abandon me?"
Emma stood and fought hard not to roll her eyes. "You heard the woman: I missed it last year it is my head if I skip again." His hand shot out and clasped around her wrist.
"At least give me your number," he said letting go when Emma didn't say anything but kept staring at where he'd touched her. Neal slid an iphone out of his pocket. "I only ask because I'm throwing a party soon. You and your friends should come." The hand grabbing was weird but he was probably just as drunk as Emma. She'd let it go, for now.
"Another party would be nice," she said while tapping on his iphone. "Text me."
She slipped through the throng of bodies, then out through the sliding back doors toward the bonfire and her best friends.
Close friends and acquaintances spread out around living room and backyard; they stood in circles, laid out on couches, and danced in the firelight. That's where Emma found all her closest friends. Arms linked; shoulder to shoulder they held their drinks up in a toast as Emma arrived.
"Now that we're all here it is time for the toasts. What shall we drink to?" Robin's voice rang out over the flames. The background noise faded and all eyes were on him. Voices rang out at random around the fire, strange voices and some familiar: "To change," "Good times," "Getting laid," "Freedom!"
Emma added, "To Friendship." Ruby, Victor, Regina, and Robin drank to that, chinking their beers against one another's.
He nodded and laughed. "You should drink to all of that. But first, raise your glass to brilliant endings that lead the way to more illuminated beginnings; to finding adventure and true love; to enjoying the long road ahead because life isn't about the destination it is about the journey." The crowd cried out, drank up, and moments later the party returned to full volume.
Except Emma didn't cheer as loud as everyone else and left her drink untouched while tears gathered in her eyes. All she ever had was the journey. The journey always made her tired and forced her to be alone. Maybe her journey was over. Had she already reached her destination? After all, this fall she'd watch from afar as her friends set sail for college, leaving Emma Swan adrift and alone. A hand clasped her shoulder.
"Emma, think we could talk? I wanted to ask you a couple things about Ruby." This would be the moment when Victor wanted to talk. Hold it together, deep breath, she told herself, you can let go if you make it to the front porch. She always told herself silly things like that when she felt her control slipping. It gave her something to focus on, a reason to move forward and keep functioning: a goal that didn't involve letting everyone see her crumble.
"Emma, are you all right?"
She cleared her throat, tried focusing on his face. "Yes, sorry, we can chat if you want. But I'm going to tell you go for it."
"Oh, uh, really? That's great to hear. You don't think it will make the group, awkward?" he asked.
"You two already spend so much time together no one will notice. Plus, Regina and Robin are a thing—they are proof our group can handle dating. Go get the girl." She smiled, encouraging him to walk back to Ruby on the far side of the yard. Robin gave her a questioning look across the bonfire but Emma just raised and pointed to her red solo cup then started for the front door. Her hands shook as the façade began to melt. Emma felt her insides begin to crack like a stepped on mirror: fractured into pieces one moment at a time.
She walked through the party, breaking more and more every time a body bumped and knocked into her. Until, finally, she was out front. Emma kept walking because if she stopped it was over. If she stopped she'd have to admit—her job, home, friends, future were all gone.
Like a freight train her panic attack hit. She slumped to the asphalt catching herself on hands and knees. Bad, she thought, the middle of the street is bad for this. But her limbs wouldn't move; her lungs were in control, pushing her chest in and out hard, so hard it hurt. Emma let out small cries between panting breaths.
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