The studio lights flash and flicker in a manner that could best be described as controlled chaos. Music blares from five-foot tall sound-speakers, strategically placed to make it seem like the music was emanating from the corners of the building and dispersing into the crowd. Patterns and lines swirled around in neon colors, painting the ceiling of the gymnasium. The tiled floor was wet with the spilled contents of plastic cups and chlorinated water from the pool in the center, in which a number of partygoers were practicing their cannonball skills.

The semester's first Vortex-Homecoming party was in full swing. Many students were riding the hype from the end of classes this Friday, and were channeling this into dance-offs and fierce drinking competitions. Ping-pong tables were surrounded by knights of dubious chivalry, and chanting could be heard whenever one passed within earshot of them.

As to how such copious amounts of alcohol ended up at a party like this, Kate didn't exactly know. She could see the bartenders were obliged to card anyone asking for some of the liquor they had behind the shelves, but as to how they kept track of it after it passed over the counter, there it became a dubious game of chance. Not that anyone was going to snitch to Blackwell Security or the local police: neither the loss of respect nor the subsequent visit to their dorm by Prescott and his hounds were worthwhile outcomes.

She had been reluctant to attend the party, even despite the assurances of her friends that they would be present as well. Dana Ward and Juliet Watson, fellow dormmates that shared a lot of the same classes as Kate, were aware of the blonde's hesitation to go on outings like these, and saw a perfect opportunity to give her a dose of their more extroverted activities. Not that Kate was an introvert or anything similar; she simply did not go to parties as often as her two friends did.

This fact became glaringly apparent when they entered into the vortex of people, having to push and shove their way to the bar for some drinks. Dana and Juliet split off to change into swimwear, the pool being the primary attraction for most of the partygoers, and they were no exception. Kate had been unaware nor enticed to bring her own swimsuit, and thus was regulated to the crowded dance floor or the makeshift bar set up in the corner of the gym, farthest from the exit. Across the way from the bar, the VIP section for Vortex members was teeming with girls dressed in fancy get-ups and boys in letterman jackets decked out in the school colors.

Kate felt awkward, standing there amongst the crowd of people, her hands gently holding the cup of soda she'd been given by her friends. There's too many people she doesn't recognize, too many voices shouting and yelling from all directions. It's hard to make out a single word in this vortex of noise.

There was this protective circumference of space surrounding her, manifested by her visibly timid posture and usual attire: a white blouse and black overcoat with a long, grey pencil skirt. It was right to say that she stuck out as a prude surrounded by nymphs and satyrs. Girls clad in fashionable bikinis turned their heads up at her in silent judgement, boys would duck their attention back to their friends whenever she caught them staring.

She sighs. This wasn't exactly the experience she had in mind.

Fishing out her phone, she checks the group chat she was recently added into. No new texts from anyone. She can only assume that Warren's text about joining them was a dud, since it had been fifteen minutes and she had yet to see him pass through the entrance. She had half the mind to send a message directed at Juliet and Dana to ask if she could be excused from the party early, but was hesitant. There wasn't an easy way to ask that without sounding ungrateful, and that wasn't what she wanted to convey. Discomfort, yes, but not ungratefulness.

She set her cup down on an empty stool within an arm's reach of her, and began typing out what she wanted to say. It took some time, and she had to think over the constant assault of the music and chatter, but eventually she drafted her message and sent it.

Dana and Juliet may not appreciate her cutting her time short, but Kate feels she's learned all there is to know about parties like this. An environment where she can't even hear her own thoughts was one she did not want to persist in.

She grabs her cup of soda and takes her first and final sip—and her features sour immediately. She nearly spits it out, but holds it in for the sake of not embarrassing herself. The taste alone was enough to make her question why she had come here.

Were they putting alcohol in everything they serve? Didn't they have water or something of the sort?

Kate sighs again, and moves to leave—

Someone bumps into her. They apologize, but Kate can barely make it out; she tries assuring them that it was fine, that she was leaving anyways, but the music kicks up a notch and she can't even hear herself. They don't notice her words, and move on to catch the beat drop with others, headbanging and flailing their arms wildly about. She's already trying to pass through the mass of raving figures blocking her way to the exit. So much for having fun—

She squeezes past a couple girls grinding on their flustered crushes, only to catch an elbow to the side. She doesn't even wait for them to apologize. If she can make her way through, then she can go back to the dorms and be rid of the sweat forming on her brow and the aching in her stomach. At this point, she questions where this sudden pressure came from, and she flushes from the sudden pain searing at her gut. She is starting to become dizzy, and can't stop herself from swaying as she moves forward.

Kate didn't have the time to prevent her collision with another person who was not paying attention to where they danced, and they crashed their raised elbow into her face. Shapes blurred from the sudden change in motion. She's reeling despite it being a mild impact.

"What the hell?!" came a cry, and the person cast their self-righteous glare down upon Kate, who found herself laid out on the tile. She could feel the pool water seep through the back of her coat. It was cold, and she was burning hot. Why was she burning up so badly—?

"Oh shit, Vic, you knocked her on her ass!" another siren's voice called over the din, and hearty laughs rang in Kate's ears. Hands pointed down at her as she struggled to stand, then they reached for her and hoist her upright. She nearly passes out from how light-headed she's become. She can't focus on anything in the sea of shadowy figures and neon lights.

"Did nobody tell you the abstinence meeting got cancelled?" someone jeers at her. She tries to address them, but nothing comes out in reply. Not that they would hear her response over their howling laughter.

"Careful guys, she's probably gonna snitch on us!"

"Nah, there ain't no way," Marsh nearly stumbles when someone pushes against her, and downright flinches when a feminine voice shouts in her ear, "Hey, you trying to get down for Jesus or somethin'? Now's your chance!"

"Yeah, c'mon, let's see what'chu got!" They coaxed her to give into temptation, to become another figure in the writhing mass hypnotized by the music and vortexes, but she could only shake her head and try to get away from them.

A hand takes hold of her arm, and she is yanked into earshot of an irate person, and Kate realizes that this one was the person she initially bumped into.

"Who the hell invited you here?!"

"I…" she didn't know she was invited. Why was she here? She doesn't remember coming here, let alone having a reason to stay. It's late, she should be in bed by now. She shouldn't be here.

"I shouldn't be here," she murmurs. It's lost to the noise of the vortex.

"C'mon, Vic, let's leave her!" another voice called, but this person clutching at her arm would not let her go. In fact, their fingers locked her arm in a tight grip, and this person retorted to their friends, "Oh no, not yet—this bitch nearly spilled my cup all over my fucking dress!"

Suddenly, Kate's being led along in a direction, but she doesn't know where. Is it towards the exit, to the bathroom, perhaps? Oh, please, let it be the bathroom—she's so nauseous and sick to her stomach that she's expecting to toss up her last meal at any second. Her head sways up, and she is lost to the swirls and colors of the vortex. It sharpens, then fades into static, and it does nothing to make her feel better.

The person dragging her along suddenly stops—what was their name again? Kate doesn't remember their name, the music drowns out anything Marsh could come up with. Her inertia catches up to her, and she collides with them once more. This time, it's face-to-face, lips brushing against another's. Her head slips into the crook of their shoulder, and Kate barely notices her hand latch against their hip to keep herself steady. She doesn't think, she does these things instinctually, it's all she can do now that this poison courses her veins, turning her into a dead girl walking.

She is shoved back, hard. They did not take kindly to her invasion of their personal space. Multiple hands catch her before she falls, but they do not let her go. They are cautious at first, unsure how she'd react to their touch, but then like a pack of hyenas surrounding their prey, they nip and pinch and grope all over. Voices cackle and jeer, and there's a bright light beaming down upon her, as if to cue her part in some twisted stage play. She's overwhelmed with emotions, but not a sound breaks from her lips. She's caught in a vortex of weird pleasure and godawful pain and she can't think straight. Tears smear her vision into jumbled colors and shapes.

Lord, help me.

The hands retract, the voices cease their cheering, the bright light shining in her face is turned off. A supportive grip eclipses her, then loops an arm around her to keep her steady. A baritone voice echoes in her ears, and she clings to it. It's the only one that she thinks hasn't taken advantage of her, and that's good enough for now. Kate gets the idea that this might be an angel sent to guide her to safety, and she thanks God for this respite against the terror. All she can imagine as she is escorted away from the symphony of noise is the tranquility of her dorm room, and the warmth of her blanket, and the familiar taste of her tea packets.

Nathan adjusts his grip on the girl, her messy bun of golden hair brushing against his cheek and tickling his nose. He knew the dose she took would only last for a couple more hours, but so long as he reached his destination before then, he could make it work.

He bit back the urge to sneeze, and adjusted his supportive hold on her again. His thoughts turn to why his partner singled her out despite there being plenty of more favorable options at the party, but then again, maybe the bastard was just being petty and wanted him to fuck it up. It didn't make much sense for him to do that, but Nathan didn't care much for understanding his partner's rationale. To him, it's a sick joke to understand the artistic vision buried within that sick fuck's process. It always looked like a mess to him. One big, giant, colossal mess, just waiting to be noticed by someone with half a brain and some common sense. He counts himself lucky that everyone is too stupid to connect the dots.

Out the gymnasium's entrance they went, following the concrete path to the parking lot, where his truck awaits. From there, it'd take a ten minute drive, and that was if his cargo decided to give him problems. She, like many others, hardly put up resistance to him once secured in his hold.

All was needed, was to make sure that there wouldn't be any adverse reactions like what had happened several times before. It would have been nice if his partner had informed him the first time around that there was a significant chance their muses would toss their damn lunch up whilst he was driving them, at least then he could come prepared. But no—the son of a bitch "forgot" to tell him, and was snickering when Nathan showed up with his passenger seat and the floor of his truck covered in their guest's vomit. A fun day that was, having to clean the whole fucking thing to make sure it didn't catch the attention of anyone who happened to pass by his truck.

Down the steps, one at a time. He was having to make sure she didn't trip and send both of them tumbling, but all was well. Down another flight, and then into the lot—

"Kate!"

Nathan snapped his head back the way they came.

Shit.

That's most definitely the others she came to the party with. Had they noticed him carrying her?

"Kate!" the voice called again. It is echoed by another voice, and another.

There's three of them, possibly more.

Nathan realizes he can't make it to where his truck is, even if he carries her on his back. Heavy footfalls approach from the darkness, they'll be upon him and his cargo much too quickly for him to escape. Nathan has to make a choice, and makes it quick—

Warren stops his hurried pace at the top of the stairs. More footfalls come up from behind, and Max stops beside him, panting from exertion, "What, what's wrong?"

"I…don't know why she'd want to go over here, to be honest," Warren turns his head back to the girls' dorms, "She should've went that way, to the dorms."

"L-let's just check before we double-back, just in case," Max charged down the steps and into the parking lot, her voice carrying over the muted noise of the party raging in the background, "Kate! Kate, are you here?! Kate—!"

"Oh, shit—!"

"What, what's…?" Max twirled on her heel, and gasped; she had completely missed the single figure slumped against the low wall right beside the steps. Warren was already attempting to ease the blonde up, and Max was quick to act as a brace for her friend as she was raised to her feet.

Kate's legs wobbled, her flat-footed shoes were scrapping against the concrete. Her skin was hot to the touch, and when she tried to speak, all that came out was a wispy tangle of syllables, jumbled and out of place. They led her back up the steps and towards the dorms.

Dana and Juliet were still echoing Kate's name when Max called to them, "We found her, we found her!"

"Oh thank God!" Dana swore, her brow creased with worry, "Where the hell was she?"

"We found her in the parking lot, probably got lost or something like that," Warren supplied, "She's completely out of it."

Juliet had tears in her eyes, and was already begging, "Kate—fuck, I'm sorry, We—we're so sorry, we didn't mean to leave you in there alone—"

"Can we not do this here, please?" Max snipped, unappreciative of how Juliet was crowding their way, "Let's get her to the dorms, come on!"

It was swift, and disordered. Dana and Juliet were quick to act as chauffeurs, holding any doors open for Max and Warren to easily carry their intoxicated friend through. Up the steps they went to the second floor, and from there, they fished Kate's dorm key out of her pocket and unlocked her door, hurriedly shuffling inside.

"We need water, and towels," Juliet noted, already moving for her room, "Dana, you got towels?!"

"Yeah, I got some!" Ward was quick to bust into her room, and came flying out with a pair of hand towels tucked in her arm. Juliet was right behind her with some water bottles and a small basin to hold the water in, and they rushed back to Kate's room.

Max and Warren had laid Marsh on her bed, and set to work adjusting the pillows so that she was able to breathe easy. The lamp on the nightstand glowed dimly in this small room, and highlighted the sickly tone of Kate's skin. Her face and her ears were red as a tomato, yet in the same instance her arms were pale and her hands were shivering. She was muttering something to herself; they could not make it out.

"Max, take this," the brunette was handed a towel, and was first to douse the towel with the water poured into the basin, and she gently brush it against Kate's forehead.

"Do we got another one for her to drink from?"

"Right here," Juliet handed her a bottle, its cap already twisted off. Kate was unresponsive at first, but once they brought the bottle to her chapped lips, she had the strength to hold it and drink from it on her own.

"Don't rush, Kate. Don't rush."

A tense silence settled, broken intermittently by Kate trying to speak but not quite able to give a discernable sentence to any of her friends. Not that they were particularly bothered by this: they all felt the silent and subtle relief, knowing their friend had not been lost to the night.

"That…was fucking terrifying," Dana mutters. Her hand combs through her auburn hair, still wet from her brief time in the pool, "Good thing you called us, Warren."

"Yeah, don't mention it," he humbly replies. It was him who had made sure they saw Kate's message, sparking their need to look for the blonde soon after. When things became grim, he texted Max so they had another pair of eyes to look out for Kate, and sure enough—

"Well, you shouldn't be thanking me," he noted, "you should thank Max. She's the one who found Kate in the parking lot."

Max received heartfelt pats on the back and nods of appreciation. She hummed in acknowledgement, but was focused on Kate. Every thirty seconds, Caulfield would take the towel off her sick friend's head, dunk it in water, wring it, then put it gently back in its place.

They were patient. Time passed in slow, painful seconds, where Kate shuffled and groaned as her body fought against the poison in her system, and each of them took turns applying the towel to her burning forehead. They weren't entirely sure if it made a difference, but it helped quell their own doubts and anxieties. They figured that was good enough of a reason.

"…Kate, can you hear us?" Juliet eventually asks. This time, Kate nods her head. There's a conscious gleam in her silver eyes, though bloodshot and glassy with tears. She's not floundering helplessly any more.

"Kate, I…" Watson glances to Dana, then back to her again, "We're so sorry. We didn't mean to ditch you like that, especially on your first experience. That shouldn't have happened, and we both should've done better."

"I'm sorry, Kate," Dana seconded, her eyes unable to meet her friend's, "I don't blame you if you hate us for this. If you don't want us around, just let us know. We just hope you can forgive us, for what we've done."

Kate parted her lips to speak—

Then she lurched forward, a hand of hers holding back a torrent. Warren was ready with the garbage bin, and Kate retched into it. He held her longer bangs away, as did Max once she recovered from the sudden motion.

A spare towel was placed into Kate's hand to wipe the sparse vomit from her mouth, and she rasped, "I forgive you."

Her guilty friends nodded. They feared that speaking might test their already shaky reconciliation. For her part, Marsh rolled back to rest on her bed, coughing away her woes, "I'm so tired. I'm so tired…"

She passed out moments later, whilst Max held her hand and Warren fixed the towel on her head.

"…look, Max, I get it—"

"No, you do not," Caulfield hissed, her brow trembling in anger, "I don't care how you try to justify it. You and Dana fucked up, and that's the end of it."

Juliet ducked her head in shame. Dana was looking up to the ceiling, nervously biting her lip, no-doubt feeling the scorn directed at her.

"I know it's not your guys' job to keep me informed," Max started up, "I know you guys have the most experience with stuff like this. But the fact that I had to learn about this from Warren is just absolutely ridiculous. This is never going to happen again, are we clear on that?"

"Crystal clear," the two replied.

Max held back her anger, and chose instead to look forlornly at Kate's door. They had moved to the hall so as to mitigate the chance of Kate being woken up, and since Max could only hold in her gripes for Dana and Juliet for so long before it'd drive her insane.

"…I want this to be known," Caulfield eventually resumed, her voice level and calm, "I want this for all of us, not just for Kate. If any of us gets in a spot of trouble, then the rest of us need to be there when it happens. No more ditching each other, no more second-guessing."

"Y-you're right, Max," Juliet concurred. Beside her, Dana nodded in agreement, and felt her resolve harden at the encouragement, "We're all in this, together."

The door opens, and Warren steps out. He makes sure it closes as quietly as possible, then whispers, "She's still asleep, but I've got to get going. I've already overstayed my welcome here, and I don't want to risk getting skinned alive by security."

"Go on then, I'll text you how she's doing in the morning," Max and the others waved him farewell. The brunette turned to her companions, "Go and get some sleep, I'll keep watch of her."

"Are you sure?" they asked, and were responded, "Go. We'll convene in the morning and decide what to do about all this."

They heeded her words, and now Max was alone to guard her friend, resting peacefully on her bed. Caulfield found herself overcome with a bout of emotion, and held Kate's hand in hers to calm herself, to remind herself that this was real and that her best friend was safe.

"I promise," Max whispered, just loud enough to break the silence in the room, "that I'll never leave you like that again. I won't let you be another Chloe—I swear to God!"

Tears dripped from Caulfield's eyelashes onto the carpet. She chokes down the sobs threatening to spill forth. Eventually, she also passes out from exhaustion, and the room is silent once more.