Saturday, 2 January 2016


Her face is reflected back from every wall she faces out there on the dancefloor of the Drink nightclub. This being Saturday night at Guildford’s premier nitespot, the venue is packed with revellers and the soundtrack of disposable chart hits is thunderous. Cheryl wants to lose herself in the moment but it’s not that easy to do when you’re always the centre of attention. She’d come out here in a party of three that’s somehow expanded to what seems like a hundred hangers on, all cheering and laughing and wooping along with the music as they navigate the crowded mezzanine. She tries her best to keep Nicola by her side at all times. She’s long lost count of how many glasses of champagne she’s been given and unthinkingly knocked back. She can’t hear the words of anyone trying to talk to her, only the distorted roar of the synthesisers. Cheryl feels acutely self-aware and increasingly sick.

No comments:

Post a Comment