Chapter 93
Mireya
Past
Play - Drag Path by Twenty One Pilots
I was never here
The music hits before we even open the door. We’re late to the party again and it’s my fault, I checked on Milo twice before leaving. The bass is deep and violent, as if a second heartbeat is trying to take over mine and I’m not even against it.
“Come on,” Hayzel laughs, grabbing my wrist and pulling me inside. “Don’t go all ghost on me now.”
Neon spills everywhere around us. Pink, blue, and purple lights, the heat of bodies dancing against each other. It sticks to skin, turns people into something almost unreal.
We’re all just fragments of a dream no one will remember tomorrow. Maybe I will.
I always remember my dreams, that’s the problem. That’s also why I came here after drinking a bottle and a half of vodka, because I want to forget this night tomorrow.
“No worries, I won’t…” I say, but it comes out like a lie.
Hayzel turns, walking backward through the crowd already singing the song that is being played. “You better not. I didn’t leave Milo with Nana so you could dissociate in a corner all night.”
My stomach twists. Milo.
For a second, everything feels like guilt; the heat, the noise, the press of bodies. I picture him half-asleep on that couch, clutching his dinosaur plushy.
“Hey.” Hayzel’s voice softens as she leans in. “You deserve one night, okay? Just one.”
One night. One version of me that doesn’t feel like I’m constantly drowning.
So I nod, and let her pull me deeper into the crowd. Drink after drink, laughter after laughter…I stop keeping track of everything I do.
Someone’s hand is on my waist, then he rubs himself on me and I let him. I don’t know his name and don’t even ask. He smiles and I smile back, because his attention is on me and attention means I’m wanted. Wanted means I’m worth something, doesn’t it?
Another drink, another hand, another mouth against mine again. This time I let him pull me into the darkest corner of the room where no one is looking, or maybe everyone is, I don’t really care…
It’s the usual thing now. Me using a man at a party, me not remembering how ashamed I felt the next day.
Tonight, it’s him.
His hands wander slowly beneath my dress, fingers playing against me and I don’t stop him. I chose this, that’s the important part. I chose this.
So why does my body still feel like it’s not mine?
He whispers something when he’s done and I don’t hear it, the ecstasy of the moment disappears as fast as it appears, replaced by regrets and shame.
When he leaves, he kisses my cheek and I stay there for a moment. I can’t even remember his face after five minutes. I remember the feeling as I walk back to Hayzel who’s still dancing and probably thinks I’m just having fun.
Another drink again, the alcohol burns on the way down. Cheap vodka, something sweet trying to disguise the need to forget about what’s waiting for me at home.
“See?” Hayzel grins, already halfway into her next shot. “Not so bad.”
“Not so bad, you’re right,” I smile back, following her onto the next one.
The lights smear when I blink. The bass settles into my bones, syncing with something inside me until I can’t tell where it ends and where I begin. “Dance with me,” she says, tugging me again. I let her drag me into the middle of it; bodies colliding, hands in the air, music too loud to think over.
My senses soften, my thoughts blur, and the noise becomes a shield instead of an attack.
She spins in front of me, laughing, completely free, and for a second I can almost pretend I’m like her. Like I’m not counting the seconds between heartbeats. Like I’m not waiting for something inside me to crack open again.
I close my eyes, letting the music take over, letting my body move without asking permission. And just then, I disappear. When I open my eyes again, everything feels… wrong.
The guilt comes back. I’m having fun, I’m having too much fun.
“Bathroom,” I say, leaning into Hayzel’s ear.
She frowns. “You okay?”
No… I want to crawl out of my own skin. “Yeah,” I lie easily. “I just wanna pee.”
She studies me for a second, then she nods. “I’ll be here.”
The hallway is darker, voices echo behind the doors, a mix of laughter and swearing.
I push into the bathroom and I see three girls inside.
One of them is leaning over the sink, the other is cutting lines, and the other is still dancing to the music we can hear from here.
The one cutting lines glances up when I step in and smiles. “You want some?”
I should say no, I know I should. Instead, I hear myself laugh. “What’s one more line, right?”
She grins wider. “Exactly.”
The powder is bright under the bathroom light. My fingers don’t even shake when I take the rolled bill. I lean down, inhale, and for a second everything stops. Then it hits, fast and violent. It’s perfect.
My chest tightens, then expands, like I’ve been suffocating my whole life and someone finally decided to let me breathe.
The world changes into something electric, I feel warmer, not cold anymore, everything is so clear, the noise fades as my thoughts scatter before disappearing completely. And just like that, I’m not me anymore. I’m okay.
“See?” the girl says beside me, already lining up another. “Told you.”
I laugh again. “I needed that.”
Needed.
Because it’s been a fucking medicine. Because I always thought it was saving me.
I grip the edge of the sink, staring at my reflection, my pupils are blown wide, my lipstick is smudged. I don’t look like me. I look like someone who doesn’t care about anything. Someone who would leave her little brother behind without a second thought.
“I—” My voice breaks. I turn away from the mirror, pressing my hands to my eyes like I can push the image out of my head.
“Hey,” one of the girls says, softer now. “You good?”
I nod. “Yeah.” But my throat tightens, because I know this feeling. The crash always comes early for me. My body doesn’t even want to pretend this is sustainable. I wish it did.
I don’t go back to Hayzel right away. The girls get out already dancing and I stay there. Leaning against the cold tile, floating somewhere between too much and not enough, between numb and breaking.
And there, in this blurry state of mind, I wonder what would happen if I stayed like this, if I never went back. If I let this version of me, the one who doesn’t feel, doesn’t think, doesn’t remember win. I feel sick to my stomach, but I also miss the feeling of being wanted.
But then I hear Hayzel’s laugh getting closer as she calls my name, and it cuts through everything. So I push myself off the wall, wipe under my eyes, and fix what I can.
Then I step back into the noise.
Because nothing happened and I’m still not someone worth saving.