ANDREA
Once we arrive at the club, Emily and I make a beeline for the bar, eager to kick off our night with a few shots. The alcohol burns pleasantly as it goes down, and I can already feel the welcome warmth spreading through my veins, loosening my limbs and quieting the ache in my chest.
My mind flashes briefly to the devastating actions of my father earlier, his lack of remorse in his eyes as he crushed my feelings. But I forcefully push those thoughts aside, determined to lose myself in the pulsing beat of the music and the buzz of the liquor. Right now is about forgetting, about drowning my sorrows until the sharp edges of my heartbreak are blurred and numbed.
“Do you want to dance?” Emily shouts, her voice barely carrying over the pulsing beat and raucous chatter of the packed
