Collecting Polaroids |Slowburn|

Chapter 29

Third Person's POV

Isla felt her heart sink as she watched her best friends hurry away from her. The loud hum of the room blurred into a loud racket. She stood rooted to her spot, staring at the floor. A gasp left her lips as someone bumped into her. Turning, Isla came face to face with Alex. 

"Isla? Are you okay?" Lucas asked, coming up behind him.  "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine," I replied, giving them a meek smile. I rushed off before they could ask more questions, ascending the flight of stairs to the top. My back pressed against the marble wall as I hid in the secluded spot. I slid down to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest. 

There was too much happening around me. My heart was beating too fast, I had to calm myself before I had an anxiety attack. Tears pricked my eyes as I clenched my hands. 

In and out, breathe

Nothing was working. I stumbled down the stairs, my vision completely blurred. I shoved past people, finally making it to the bathroom. The cold water shocked me into reality as I splashed my face, not caring if my makeup got ruined. 

I leaned over the sink, gripping the sides of the counter. After what felt like eternity, I looked up at the mirror. 

The girl in front of me wasn't me. It was the opposite version of me. My hair was curling around my face, dripping from the water. My mascara that I'd put on oh so carefully earlier that evening was now running down my cheeks. The eyeshadow was now blended into a brown splatter, blending in with the mascara. My eyes, they were red, the veins clearly irritated from my tears. If you didn't see my face, I looked like a princess, the blue dress flowing around me. But from the neck up, it was a disaster. 

I leaned against the wall as I thought back to how I'd imagined this night just 3 weeks back. 

I wonder if Elliot will ask me out. Wait why would I even think that? Isla you're insane. No wait, but he's so handsome how could I not. Ok no, no, we're not going there. 

"But just imagine!," my subconscious spoke. "Wearing that pretty dress, matching Elliot's tie. The two of you walking on stage, his arm around your waist. The smell of his cologne invading your senses. Admit it. You like him. You, Isla Fischer, have a crush on Elliot."

I did a sharp intake of breath, feeling as if I'd been punched in the gut. A lot changed in 3 weeks. I carefully wiped the raccoon residue from my cheeks and eyes, reapplying the eyeliner I had found in my pocket. 

I glanced at the fancy clock on the wall of the bathroom, 8:16. I had somehow managed to last 3 hours. One hour on the steps, and the other two a mix of running from one corner of the banquet hall to the other and hiding in the bathroom. A night well spent. 

I stepped out of the restroom, thinking people would be done. I was somewhat right, except everyone was crowding around the drink stand. I tentatively stepped out into the middle of the now empty floor, looking to see what was happening. I mentally rolled my eyes, assuming it was free food and started walking away.

A hand grabbed my arm making me spin around, ready to defend myself. I found myself staring at Elise, a desperate look on her face. 

"Isla, Florian sent me to get you. We need your help," she pleaded, dragging me back to the group of people. She shoved me through the crowd and I found myself staring at Elliot who had Lucas pinned to the wall. Anger immediately coursed through my veins as I stormed up to him. 

Grabbing his arm, I yanked him away from Lucas who was gasping for air. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I spat, glaring at him as he stumbled away. No one messes with my friends. 

Elliot seemed extremely disoriented, his eyes glazed over. He moved far away from me, but kept his gaze trained on me. I was grateful that Elise shooed everyone away and left us in the room. 

I looked back at Lucas who gave me a weak smile. I was relieved, that meant he was okay. 

A sharp pain seared through my head as I felt a tug on my curled hair. Whipping around, I came face to face with Sandrine.

"I fucking hate you," she swore in French, her words slurring together. 

"I know," I deadpanned, eyeing her carefully. She brought the champagne bottle clenched in her hand to her lips, taking a long sip. I quickly grabbed it from her throwing it to Lucas who caught it effortlessly. 

"You bitch," she hissed, lunging at me. I stepped to the side as she stumbled towards the  wall. 

"You've had enough to drink," I stated, my face still holding an angry expression. 

"You can't tell me what to do," she slurred. 

What she said next made my blood run cold. 

"You're the one who's friend died from alcohol. Who di- dies from alcohol? Must've been a lightweight," she giggled, a hiccup interrupting her sentence. 

I stood there, watching her as she leaned against the wall for support. I didn't know what to say, how to react. Should I be mad? Or sad? Upset?

I just felt betrayed. This whole day had been completely shit, all leading up to this. I could feel my breathing quicken yet again. And I already knew this was going to turn into a full on breakdown. Spinning on my heel, I made a beeline for the door. I made sure I sent Elliot the deadliest glare I could muster. 

"Isla! Isla! Wait!" I heard Elliot call after me, his shoes picking up the pace. I knew he wouldn't be able to follow me, he was too drunk. 

I barely made it to the grass lawn before I collapsed, my knees giving out. I felt someone's arms wrap around me, the warmth emanating from their body in the cold Parisian air. 

"Shhh, it's okay. I'm here. Just breathe," Lucas cooed, caressing my hair. I held on to him as if he was going to disappear. In that moment, I sent a prayer to God to send Lucas to heaven, even if he committed the greatest sin on the planet. 

My head was spinning as darkness entered my vision. My hands clenched the fabric of Lucas' suit as my body shook with sobs. I'd never hit such a low point in my life. Ever. 

"What's wrong with her," an all too familiar voice asked, voice still slurred yet clearer than before. 

"We need to get her to the hospital," I heard Alex say, worry evident in his voice. 

I felt so tired. My muscles felt like they couldn't function and my body was limp. I just wanted to sleep. Everything around me began to go silent and I couldn't hear my rapid breathing. It was complete silence. And I liked that. 

"She's hyperventilating," Lucas muttered, picking me up in his arms. That was all I remembered before I blacked out.