Lydia & Raya

"Hey, where did you rush off to?" 

It was 12:30 AM, and Lydia stood transfixed on the rooftop, gazing out at the city's neon haze. She didn't answer Raya's question.

Raya reached out and touched Lydia's arm. She flinched at the contact, pulling away. 

"Don't. Not here." 

"Why not?" Raya asked, her voice full of hurt. "There's no one else here."

"Well ... someone might be watching."

"That's what you always say. Someone is watching. But no one ever is, Lydia. And even if they were, so what?"

"You know what, I'm just ... not ready for that conversation yet." 

"With others? Or yourself?"

There was a long pause. 

"That's not fair."

"No, I think it’s very fair. We've been together for a year and a half. Yet at every party, every 'study date,' you always say, 'I'm your friend.' Just your friend. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"

"It's easy for you. You're out." 

"It's not, though! Sure, I'm out. But every day, I get hit with shit—told I'm too cute to be a lesbian, that dating and sleeping with guys could fix me, that I've disgraced my family. Sometimes they say that I should just disappear. I laugh it off, force myself to smile, because until tonight, I thought you were in my corner. But you hide me like I'm nothing. Like, I don't matter."

Lydia remained silent, trembling. 

"What're we even doing here, Lydia? I didn't even want to come to this stupid party."

"Then go."

"What?" 

"You heard me. Fuck off if you don't want to be here. I mean it. Just fuck off."

"You know what... fine. We're done, Lydia." 

Raya stormed off, leaving Lydia standing there. Once more, she was alone. 

"Shit." 

*******

By the time Lydia returned from the roof, the party was in full swing. She looked around, hopeful to see Raya. No luck—Raya was long gone. Needing something strong to numb the sting of regret, Lydia headed straight for the drinks table.

Chad was grinding up against Natalia in the middle of the living room. Isi and Matteo played beer bong to the cheers of several onlookers. 

In a dimly lit corner, Jake passionately kissed Frank, running his fingers through thick black locks, before moving on to lock lips with Hannah. The thrupple clung tight to one another, lost in the moment. 

Lydia averted her eyes from them. She fixated on the vodka bottle, barely holding back tears. When she glanced at her own fingers, she saw black and gold smudges—proof of her unraveling. 

"Great." She muttered bitterly. "Gonna spend the rest of the night looking like a fucking panda."

"You alright, Lyds? Looks like you've been crying." Alfie sidled over to her, bopping his head to the music.

"I'm fine." She took a sip from her cup, as though she were playing a drinking game: drink every time you lie that evening. Starting... now.

Alfie frowned. He'd known her long enough to recognise the signs of her distress: the quivering lip, the averting of eye contact, the defensive drinking.

"Do you want to try that again?" His words were not unkind. 

"Fuck you. I said I'm fine. Why does everyone think I’m not fine?" Lydia hiccuped, staggering into Dennis and Vanessa. "Watch where you're going." She snapped. 

"Rude." 

"Leave it, Dennis." Vanessa led Dennis away, wiping the spilled beer off his shirt with a napkin from her clutch. 

"Prick," Lydia spat, her voice slicing through the music. Instantly, conversations dropped. All eyes landed on her, the air tightening with judgment. 

"Lydia." Alfie caught her arm. "Let's get you some water, yeah?" 

"Get your mitts off me," she snarled. Her words were slurred. "I can make my own way perfectly well without you. Hell, I don't need anyone! And I especially don't need fucking water." 

"Yeah, well, your actions speak otherwise, so let's just get you a drink that isn't vodka." With some effort, Alfie managed to extract the bottle from her grasp. She put up little resistance. 

"God, you think you know it all, don't you, Al? Al. Al. Al. You know what your problem is, Al?  Fucking teacher's pet. That's what you are. You were the same in school, and you're the same now. Why do you even throw these parties if you don't want us to get wasted?"

He ignored her insult, motioning to Jazz. Jazz had been watching the entire conversation, arms folded, shaking his head, and seething at her remarks. 

"Jazz, babes, can you give me a hand?" 

Jazz nodded, crossing over to join them. He put his arm around Lydia, steadying her. Alfie gave him an embarrassed smile, mouthing his apologies. 

"Ha, bet that isn't the first time you asked him that, is it, Al? Do they know you're fucking the goalie?" She gestured to the busy room, laughing. "Or is it the other way round? You ... Fuck, think ... I ... Shit." 

The room was spinning. A second later, everything went black. 

*************

Lydia woke in a dim bedroom, sprawled fully clothed atop the covers. She could just make out hushed voices—Alfie and Jazz—by the wardrobe, their concern vibrating through the darkness. 

"Why do you let her talk to you like that?" 

"Babes, please, let's not do this now?" 

"But why not? Tonight was meant to be a good night. Your night. And now we're dealing with ... whatever the fuck that was. I just ... You're not a doormat. And I don't like her treating you like one. I have a good mind to tell her that when she wakes up." 

"No. Please, babes, no. She's been through enough tonight." 

"And you haven't?... Fine. Only for you." Jazz huffed.

"You're an angel." Alfie kissed Jazz. 

"What... happened?" Lydia asked. She was groggy and felt awful. Her throat and mouth were dry. The blanket was wet with spittle. 

"Oh, good, Sleeping Beauty's awake," Jazz began. 

"Jazz. Please?" Another kiss silenced him. 

"Sorry." Jazz muttered, resting his head on Alfie's shoulder. 

"What happened?" Lydia repeated, though only slightly more with it.  

"You got drunk and passed out at about 01:00/10. Don't quite remember exactly wh..."

"I got that part." Her voice was short. She grabbed her head, wincing in pain as she sat up way too quickly. 

"Don't be shitty, Lydia. We don't need a fucking pity party on top of everything else that happened." 

"Everything ... else... Christ, did something happen?" 

"Oh, something happened, alright." 

"Jazz, babes, can you get us both some water, please?" 

"Fine." 

Jazz left, giving Alfie's shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he passed. 

"... What happened? Al? Please? Talk to me?" 

Alfie sighed. 

"Cliffnotes or everything?"

"Ugh, Cliffnotes. My head is killing me." 

"So, yeah, you passed out. Not before you bumped into Dennis and called him a prick, though. And then you outed Jazz to the whole party."

"I did what?!" 

"Yeah. Not exactly your finest moment." 

"He wasn't out already?" 

"Not to everyone. And why does that matter if he was? What you did was not great." Alfie sat down beside her, "More than not great. It was a real dick move." 

"Sorry." 

"Not to me. To Jazz, when he comes back." Alfie sighed again, "So, can you remember anything from earlier?" 

"Erm ... kind of... I think. At least ... Oh, God."

There was a knock on the door. 

"It's open. And we're decent." 

Jazz entered carrying two glasses of water. He set one down on the nightstand and handed Alfie the other. He was not alone. Behind him, standing in the doorway, was Raya. She looked furious. 

"What're you ---?" Lydia began, her lips trembling. 

"Alfie called me." Raya looked down at her boots. "You look like shit." 

"I feel it."

"Shall we give you two a moment?"

"Please, Alfie. And thank you again for ... this."

"Of course. We'll leave you both to it. Jazz." 

Alfie and Jazz stepped out of the cramped room. Raya moved to let them pass, closing the door behind them with a tiny snap. 

"Hi," Lydia said weakly, gazing up at Raya. She was leaning against the wardrobe, picking at her fingernails, unable to meet her gaze. Even in the dim light, she could see that her hands were shaking. 

"... Hi? Really? Is that all you can say to me? Fucking hi?"

"Raya ..."

"Don't Raya me, you ... selfish, self-centred, ... Fuck." Raya pinched the bridge of her nose. Her whole body was tense. 

"... I'm sorry."

"For what? Me having to come back out here to care for your sorry ass at stupid o'clock in the morning? Or for telling me to fuck off when I am baring my soul to you?"

"Both." Lydia tried to stand. Her legs wobbled and buckled, and she collapsed onto the bed once more with a soft thud. "Ow." 

"Just ... stay sitting, Bambi." Raya sat down on the bed and handed Lydia her glass of water. "Drink this. I am still so fucking mad at you." 

"I know." 

"And I will be mad at you for weeks to come."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." 

"You damn right you are. Dummy." 

"I think I fucked up with Jazz, too." 

"Oh, I heard."

"Shit."

"He's not angry. Anymore. I think Alfie talked him down with the promise of a Greggs Vegan Sausage Roll." 

"God, I am such an awful person." 

Raya took hold of her clammy hand. "No. Flawed. Yes. But awful... no. I've met truly awful people, and you're not even comparable to them." 

"But ... I have treated you so badly. I'm ... I'm so sorry." 

"Look. Maybe... maybe I overreacted earlier tonight, too. If you aren't ready to come out, then I get it. Trust me, I get it. I have been there myself. But we need to talk about it because ..."

"It's... It's not that. I'm ... I'm just scared." Lydia closed her eyes. "Look, I... I love you. But I am just scared people will use that love to hurt me. To hurt you. And while I worry about these hypotheticals, I am hurting you. It is killing me. I don't want to hurt you. Really, I don't."

Raya nodded, her grip tightening on Lydia's hand. 

"You could have told me this. We could have done something, anything, to make it work. To make you more comfortable. Together. That's all I've wanted."

Lydia swallowed hard, shaking her head slightly. "I didn't want to worry you."

"So instead you bottle it up, and we fight at a mate's birthday party?" Raya can't help but laugh a little. 

"You're not going to let me hear the end of this, are you?"

"Probably not." Her tone became more serious. "I love you, too. And I want to be there for you. To support you. But I can only do that if you let me. And ... I don't think we're at the same place in our lives."

"Please don't give up on me... on us. Please? I love you." 

"... Is that truly what you want?"

"It ... It is." 

"And you're willing to try?"

"Yes. I want to make this work."

Raya sighed deeply. 

"God... I must be mad." 

"You... you mean...?"

"Yes. I love you, Lydia. God knows why... Dummy." 

Lydia chuckled, leaned in, and kissed her. 

*********************

"Hey, Jazz? Can I ... Can I have a word with you?" 

"... Sure." Jazz shrugged as he munched on a sausage roll in the kitchen.

Only the four of them remained in the flat. Everyone else had left hours ago, leaving behind the merry detritus of the party. Raya was helping Alfie clean up, sweeping the crushed cups and cans that littered every surface into a black bin bag.

"I just wanted to say, I'm really sorry. For what I said. For what I did. That was ..."

"Cruel? Humiliating? A major dick move."

Lydia exhaled. 

"... Yeah. All of the above." 

Jazz shrugged again. 

'It's fine. After it happened at two high schools and during my first year at uni, I'm used to it. I just wasn't expecting it from my boyfriend's best friend at his birthday party. That one's new."

"Is ... Is it fine though?" 

Jazz paused for a moment and furrowed his brow. 

"No. I suppose it's not. Not yet, at least." 

"Yeah. That tracks. Guess I have a lot to make up for then." 

"Hmm... people wanting to make up for being a jerk to me. That I am not used to." A smile played around his lips as he offered a hand. "But hey, happy to roll with it. You're Alfie's best friend, and I can either resent you indefinitely and make you feel awkward at social gatherings, or we can make a fresh start. Draw that metaphorical line in the sand. And as tempting as that is... I know which one will work better for me ... and Alfie."

Lydia shook his hand, her grip firm. 

"Yeah. I’ll try and make it right."

"I haven't forgotten, you know."

"... I know. And I’ll make it up to you... All of you."