Hold on / (h.s)

One

The sound of clinking glasses was the only thing keeping my eyes open during this dinner. I sat in a seat at a table and listened to my dad chatter on about business, how the worlds changing dramatically and how culture just isn't how it used to be. Laughs rushed around the room as many people stood and listened to the words he spoke. How did we even end up here? I thought as I looked at my bald father. How did he get to where he is? Only a year ago we were living in a scruffy apartment in London and now I lived in my own flat and my parents had a home, which they could honestly call home, he had a job and finally was starting to socialise with others. My mum wasn't here tonight though, she mainly stayed at home on occasions like this, which meant I had to endure in the painful evenings instead.

He sent me a small smile before glancing around to probably find someone I'm familiar with to go and speak to, to my luck, I knew nobody here. "Breeze, come here." My dad called as I stood up from my seat and wandered over to where he was speaking to an older couple.

"Breeze, this is Mr and Mrs Copen. Me and Mrs Copen, this is my daughter Breeze. But she prefers Bree."

"Breeze what an unusual name." Mrs Copen spoke.

"I get that a lot. My mum and dad gifted me with a unusual name that represents a cold breezy day."

"We was thinking more along the lines of the summer when you're over heating and you're looking for that small breeze to come along and cool you off, even just for a few seconds. It's pure luxury."

"Better to know you're a luxury than a bad weather, young lady." Mr Copen joined.

"I was just telling them about you moving into your new flat, Bree." My dad pushed towards conversation away from my hideous name.

"Yes, I've moved into a small flat in Central London. I'm a PA so I'm only around the corner from work."

"That's good, how is it living alone?"

"It's lovely. I love doing what I wish now, no curfew, I can eat whatever I want, drink whenever I want and have friends over. It can get boring sometimes though."

"Drink? As in alcohol?"

"Yes? Why?" I asked.

"Oh, as we are old, we don't really agree with drinking. The odd drink is shared at our house when it's Christmas. Apart from that, it's seen as bad in my family."

"Oh, well I'm not an excessive drinker." I slightly lied, I didn't have an addiction or problem but I wasn't one to not have a drink on a Saturday evening with my friends down the pub or a club. But I better keep that to myself.

The conversation went on and on for another hour before slowly people started washing out of the venue and off home, my time to now actually live my Saturday night and go out drinking. I text my friends to let them know I was on my way finally after the boring evening of social conversation which made me want to knock down a few extra shots of vodka down my throat.

"Be careful and good. Make sure you get home okay and are not hungover by Monday morning for work." My dad laughed at me as he hugged me goodbye and dropped me off at the pub I was going to.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. Lia is there so she will look after me." I smirked and left the car.

I walked inside and there I found Lia, my best friend who I entirely spent majority of my weekends with, Darren, her boyfriend and lastly Viv who was the quietist of us, until she drinks that is.

We instantly started drinking as I sat down and they had already ordered a round. "Bree, how was your utterly boring dinner party?"

"Utterly boring isn't even two words to sum it up, I think, fucking shit suits it better."

"You had a good time I'm guessing then?" She teased and pushed vodka shots my way.

• • • •

Viv couldn't even cohort a sentence by 11pm, we had watched as she had been sick on the bar floor and the other times in the bathroom, but vodka and whiskey had been running through my veins for the last three hours and I couldn't even help her anymore. Instead I laughed at her.

"Bree! Go back out to the table, me and Darren are going to sort this out." Lia said as they walked into the sick filled bathroom.

As I clambered back out, I sat at the bar and ordered a drink, a young gentlemen was beside me and I turned to look at him while I waited. His brown hair was thick and slightly but not disgustingly greasy and his lips were plump and pink. One of his arms were filled with tattoos and I found myself examining them. "Stop staring at me."

"I wasn't, I'm not."

"Yes you was, don't."

"I promise, I wasn't." I slurred.

"Your tattoos are nice." I complimented.

"Thanks."

"I've been looking at some online. I'm thinking about getting one done."

"Lovely."

"I'm Breeze." I cut off the subject.

"Breeze? What an unusual name." He piped up.

"You're not the first to tell me that tonight, I prefer Bree though."

He nod. "I'm Harry, you may prefer Bree, but I like Breeze better. Or the girl who stares."

"I wasn't staring." I whined.

"You so was."

"Don't flatter yourself." I mimicked as I downed my drink, the brown liquid burned my throat.

He watched as I did so. "Are you here alone?" I asked.

"Yes. My friends left around ten minutes ago."

I nod, "Right." It was silent for the next few moments as I eyed the rack of drinks to see what was next for me.

"Well, Breeze, seeing as you don't seem to be leaving my side I think it's only polite if I buy you a drink." Harry spoke again, I smiled at him and he didn't seem to send a proper one back.