Chapter Text
“Girl, who has you smiling like that?” your friend asked, trying to pull your phone out of your hand for like the third time today. You’re quick to lock it and slide it into your pocket, you’d be too embarrassed to tell anyone at this point. “Man, don’t even worry about it, you know it’s just some dumb Ghost meme like usual. You’re always in my business!” you joke, hoping to deflect the question at hand. Your friend laughs, and seems to let it go… for now. You smile. “Besides, we’re here to party and have fun! It just sucks that the bartenders are a little behind with the drinks, it sure is busy tonight. Hopefully they’re heavy-handed with their pouring this round.”
The bartender slides a couple drinks your way, as if he heard you. “Sorry about that wait, ladies. I’ve got a vodka cran for you,” he motions to you, “and as espresso martini for you.” He motions over to your friend. The drinks were in perfect presentation, as usual. For being a typical night club with an even more typical bar, they really have mastered the art of crafting cocktails - even simple ones like these. “Thank you!” you say, grabbing your drink. It’s your second of the night, and it’s added to your tab. It’s not unusual to have a few drinks on a Friday night after what feels like a long week at work. This has become a ritual of sorts for you and your friend, Mia; text all week about how you can’t wait to go out on Friday night, then go out on Friday night and just have a blast. You make your way from the bar to the dance floor, taking a sip of your drink. It would seem that the bartender in fact did have a heavy hand with this one - there’s hardly any cran in this!
It’s not long before you finish your second drink. You’re still feeling pretty alright, so you go to excuse yourself from Mia and whoever she’s decided to chat up with and head back over to the bar. While you wait for a bartender to free up and head your way, you pull your phone out - no new notifications. Sigh, your phone has been dry for ages now and it’s starting to bum you out. Your friend seems to be able to pick practically anyone up every night you go out, but never you. But it’s not like you put yourself out there anyway. You feel bad for a second, then shrug, opening up Instagram.
It’s been your guilty pleasure recently, just scrolling through and looking at whatever comes up on your feed. But one thing that you’ve not dared to tell a soul is that sometimes, you like to scroll through some of the Ghouls’ instagram accounts and fangirl over them. It doesn’t seem too embarrassing until you forget to mention that you have typed up several long DMs to Swiss in particular about how much you love the way his helmet looks on him and how those jeans really leave nothing to the imagination. But you always delete them - there’s no way you could ever in your right mind send anything like that to Swiss, or anyone, really.
“Hey there, anything I can get for you?” You look up and see the bartender from earlier. You put your phone down and smile. “Uh, yeah, I’ll take a strawberry margarita this time, please. On the rocks.” you say, telling him to add this one to your tab as well. You pick your phone back up again, as if you had gotten a message - you could have sworn it vibrated. Nope, still no notifications. You go back to Instagram, deciding that now is the perfect time to draft up another DM you’ll just delete again. You click on Swiss’s profile, and start typing out a message while waiting on your drink.
Hey Swiss, I just want to say that… Ugh, no that’s so cringe. You delete it. Swiss, I can’t get you off my mind. The way that you… Nope, deleted. Please rail me I - NO, that’s WAY too desperate. You sigh, frustrated with yourself. As if on cue, your drink appears in front of you. “Here you are, dear.” the bartender says, appearing to notice your frustration, “Not sure what’s going on, but I might have been a little heavy handed with this one too.” You smile, taking the drink. “This might just be what I needed. Thanks!”
He was not wrong. This drink was definitely hard to finish, but you had never felt better. You had a great time with Mia, and she seemed pretty sure she was going to be getting very lucky later tonight. You couldn’t say the same about yourself, but you knew just what you were doing when you got home. Ubers were called, tabs were closed and bartenders were graciously tipped, and everyone went their separate ways - you back to your place, and Mia and… Jason? Michael? You had no fucking idea, went back to hers. Or his… you were too drunk to remember. The Uber home was a blur, and so was getting ready for bed, but it was the most comfortable you had been in quite some time. You turned on your nightly Ghost playlist and cuddled up in bed. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was opening up Instagram one more time. You opened up far more than you could have ever imagined though.