so·lo

noun.

a thing done by one person unaccompanied, in particular.

Emilia made her way down the stairs, already searching for Jonathan. She needed someone to console her, even if it was just to be next to him, she needed him. Her eyes scanned desperately but she didn't see him, and a minor panic began to swell in her chest. Clinging to the banister of the stairs, she found herself worrying that he had left. Was the party so horrible that he would leave while she was in the washroom? No, Jonathan wouldn't leave her like that, she told herself.

Nervously making her way down to the main level of the house, she was lost among the people for a moment. No one took a second glance at her as they danced around her, holding their cups up high, beer spilling out of the sides as they bumped. Emilia had beer in her hair within minutes, and so she made her way out of the big crowd and returned to the spot where she had left Jonathan.

"Hey, have you seen Jonathan?" Emilia asked someone she vaguely recognized. "Jonathan Byers?"

The kid glanced at her quizzically, and then realization struck. He nodded, "Yeah, the creep? Yeah, I think I saw him taking some drunk chick home."

"What?" Emilia asked, shocked.

The kid just giggled, and then spotted a friend somewhere across the room and shouted his name. He shoved past Emilia and continued to yell at his friend. Emilia clutched her arms across her chest, feeling smaller and smaller, wondering why Jonathan would leave with someone. She tried to piece it together, but she simply couldn't come up with an explanation.

She hadn't wanted to be at this party solo. Bad things happened to girls who hung out at parties alone. Instead of brooding, or leaving -for Jonathan might have been looking for her and not actually have left- she decided to find someone she knew. Maybe Jenny, or Nancy, even Steve. Taking a deep breath, Emilia began looking for either one of those people.

Heading outside, and gravitating towards the idea of just getting into her car and leaving, she spotted a circle of people cheering loudly. Curious, although still nervous, she approached the circle of people dressed up as their favourite characters, as devils and angels, as clowns and as cats. In the center of the circle was a semi-shirtless Billy, finishing off a keg, beer dribbling down his chin.

Immediately, he spotted her and grinned.

Emilia turned around and headed back towards the house.

He caught her arm in moments, grabbing tight enough to make her halt. She spun around to face him and glared at him, ready to throw a punch. He towered over her, looming ominously. "Look, Billy," she growled, "I'm not interested, I never will be, okay? I'm sorry you thought you could bang the sheriff's daughter, but you never will. I have a boyfriend, and you're.... you're despicable."

He laughed, reeking of booze. "Oh yeah? Where is he then? If I recall correctly, your boyfriend was taking a very drunk Nancy to his car. You might think I'm shady, but taking home a drunk girl who can't even walk, now, that's a lawsuit waiting to happen."

She recoiled, but Billy didn't let go. "Jonathan isn't like that."

"Are you so sure?" Billy asked, a devious smirk on his face, like he knew something that Emilia didn't. "A little bird told me he had naked pictures of her, maybe you don't know your boyfriend as well as you think you do."

"You wouldn't understand," Emilia pulled again, and this time Billy released her. She stumbled backwards, not expecting him to have let go. Recovering, she wished she had the guts to just walk away, to forget about Billy and let him talk all he wanted. It was just talk, she didn't care anymore.

Then Billy seemed to realize that there were people watching him, and although he still came off as the cool new kid who could drink a keg and had a way with the ladies, it was being revealed that the latter may not be so close to the truth. Most of the people around them were too drunk to care or probably remember on the morrow anyways. However, Billy had to take a different approach, although he finally realized that he would never win Emilia over, she was a lost cause. It enraged him.

"Alright, I get it, Emilia," Billy said, his tone dripping with anger. "Just don't come crawling to me when you find out your boyfriend took advantage of a drunk girl whose face isn't horrible to look at."

Emilia inhaled slowly, holding her breath; she recalled once that you were supposed to breathe in for four seconds, hold for four, and release for four. When she released, however, she threw her arm into it. Her whole body pivoted as she launched her arm and fist towards Billy. She clocked him in the jaw and he stumbled back, rage filling his eyes, and something else deep down that Emilia recognized as fear. She stood tall as she brought her fist back down to her side.

"Don't ever speak to me again," she growled. Turning her back on him, Emilia walked back into the house just to get away from all the pairs of eyes staring at her. Why was it every time she went to a party, she made a scene? Her nails were digging into her palms by the time she entered the warmth of the house, the smell of sweat reaching her senses and making her cringe. She glanced around once more, looking for Jonathan, wishing that he was there and that everyone had just been lying to her.

But she thought about what Billy said, that he had taken Nancy home, and that she had been stinking drunk. Although this would make some people uncomfortable, Emilia knew Jonathan. She knew that he was bringing her home because she was wasted, he was doing her a favour, bringing her to a safe place. Because above all, Jonathan was a good person. No matter how the kids at the high school saw him, he was a good person.

Emilia relaxed then, leaning against the wall where she and Jonathan had previously been. This party had been a huge mistake, but she had gotten to punch Billy, and that made her feel powerful. She knew that it was petty to feel good about socking someone in the jaw, but someone who deserved it. That had to count for something.

She decided she would give Jonathan another half hour, and then she would go home and give him a call. A smile found its way onto her face, despite all the odds and how terribly the night had been going. She crossed her arms over her chest, and looked around, then her eyes landed on something she found sad. It cleared the smile off of her face, and she watched as Steve stumbled down the stairs, wiping frantically at his eyes. When he noticed that people could see him, he adopted a cocky demeanour and walked down those stairs with a high school boy aura.

Emilia saw right through it. 

I've written quite a few chapters these last few days! Really enjoying it, I've find a nice balance between writing three fanfics. I've never written that many in one go before, so that's kinda scary.

Question of the Day: Did you find Billy and Max's introduction into the show sort of pointless?