twenty-two | bad habits lead to late nights

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ALIGREER: Thriving.

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MIRATIOWOOHOO: sexiest mf

USER1: waiting for jordan's comment
↳ ALIGREER: don't hold ur breathe
↳ USER2: WAIT

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BAD HABITS NEVER TRULY DIE, DO THEY? Alianna Greer would know. Alcohol: the cause of so many things wrong with her life but also the one thing she knew she could always turn to make herself feel better. If she was sad she could always count on a bottle of Smirnoff to pick her right back up. (Her therapist would rip her hair out if she read this passage).

It'd been about two weeks of pretending everything was okay—pretending like she could just move on. Two weeks of listening to her friends talk about his friends and lying through her teeth that her and Jordan were fine.

She couldn't remember how she'd ended up in the club if she were being honest. She remembers being invited to a party by a lower-level influencer (who's name was escaping her at this moment) and agreeing to come if they blocked Mira and Silvi from their stories (what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them). She remembers doing shots and a couple lines with these people who only wanted photos with her for clout—she didn't care, though, it was better than being alone. She remembers being encouraged to have more and more. Then at some point her memory stopped until she came to under the blinding lights.

Her head hurt and the room was spinning. She could feel the loud bass thundering through her veins. Bodies on top of bodies all around her; they pushed and shoved and jumped. This must've been how fruit in a blender felt.

Hands that she didn't remember arriving had a tight grip on her waist as their hips grinded behind her. God, she hoped he wasn't ugly. Last thing she needed on top of everything else was a guy that wouldn't satisfy her need to not be alone.

"Let's go back to mine!" He told her, placing a sloppy kiss on her neck—the sensation made her cringe away.

What was the catalyst for tonight, you may ask? Well, Jessie Arthur's had invited everyone to a piss up at his place and Jordan hadn't even bothered to pass on the invite (or text her at all for that matter). She'd had to find out through Mira asking her what dress she should wear (Ali obviously picked the red one). When Mira asked he'd what she was planning to wear, she'd had to lie through her teeth and say she had the flu—she's still not convinced her friend bought the lie but withholding the truth was easier than admitting defeat.

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EVERYTHING WAS FINE. The party was fine. His beer was fine. The conversations he was half paying attention to were fine. Once again, he was fine (because people kept feeling the need to ask him if he was).

He'd had to leave his phone inside on the kitchen bench to stop himself from checking it every two seconds. Any notification made his stomach drop because what if it was her begging him to take it all back. It was pathetic, really. That he let a girl who wasn't even his real girlfriend occupy this much space in his already crowded mind.

Reece, with Silvi messily on his lap, was in front of him talking away. Jordan didn't hear a single word he said but he nodded at all the appropriate times (the couple was too preoccupied with each other anyways).

"So, where's your other half?" asked Herbie, his own girlfriend snuggled under his arm.

Jordan was surrounded by couples all night, it was driving him insane. "Oh, um. . ."

"Can't believe she let the flu keep her home," Silvi cut in as she messed up Reece's hair.

Relief washed over him, he wasn't in the headspace to break the news to anyone yet—they'd only just stopped giving him shit for the brand deals he'd accepted. He didn't want to hear the jokes about how short-lived the relationship was (if only they knew the truth. . . god, he'd never get a moment of peace). 

Lily Pickles, Herbie's girlfriend, frowned. "The blonde girl you always post with?"

"Yes. . . ?"

"That's strange, my friend sent me a snap with her in the background—from the club," she replied, her voice a bit unsure of itself.

Jordan's stomach dropped as everyone looked at him accusingly.

Silvi's eyebrows furrowed as she began tapping away at her phone. "I have her location and she. . . turned it off—" her head snapped back up and she frowned in Jordan's direction.

"We broke up," he blurted out as every single eye landed on him.

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BADDIES WITH BIG BOOBIES

MIRA TIO • 11:37PM
@aliannagreer
answer ur phone rn

SILVI O'DAIR • 11:38PM
You have a lot of explaing to
do missy

MIRA TIO • 11:39PM
why didn't you tell us?

HIGH HEELS IN HER LEFT HAND, PHONE IN HER RIGHT AS SHE SNUCK OUT OF THE HOUSE. She'd left as soon as he fell asleep. The regret hit her instantly and she needed to get home, to wash him off of her. Everything had felt wrong and she couldn't get a certain rugby player out of her mind the entire time.

She was scared to plug her phone in when she got home. Brisbane wasn't big enough to keep secrets from her friends for long and the Dailymail had an obsession with catching her at her worst.

The blonde watched anxiously as the Apple logo faded from her screen, replaced with her wallpaper—a photo of a polaroid taken at Mira's last birthday party. Back when life was easier. Before she'd fallen into bed with a Bronco.

JORDAN RIKI • 11:50PM
I told everyone we broke up.

🎀 KK SPEAKS!

definitely wrapping this up in 2-3 more chapters, it already feels very dragged out lol. i already have the urge to rewrite everything (but i'll resist). i've definitely lost motivation for this fic atm (be it the off seasons fault).

this chapter in particular felt really bad & repetitive but i felt bad not updating as often as i did at the start. i don't know how many of you are actually left lmao.

anyways,
jordan seems to be single again so i still have a chance to seduce him in march (i'm delusional)