𝐏𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 [𝟏𝟖+] ✔

37

What's the easiest way to get a man to agree to do something he doesn't want to do?

Fuck him until he gives in.

Hand in hand, Toby and I follow behind our small group of friends, Justin and Gabs leading. The music is loud, even the ground beneath my boots is rumbling from the heavy bass. A fairground stretches along the outskirts of the stage, DJs shouting down their mics to all the crazy dancers amongst the busy crowds.

"I hate you," Toby says, pulling me into his chest while Gabs buys beers and vodka drinks, a few shots too. "You owe me."

I narrow my eyes to slits, lacing my fingers behind his neck. "I think after my performance last night, it's you who owes me."

"We're staying here for an hour then leaving," he says in a demanding tone, making me frown and shake my head, my lips curling at the corners when he rolls his eyes. "I really hate you."

Gabs returns, handing us our drinks, Toby staring at his beer for a few seconds as if he's contemplating drinking it, before putting it to his lips. The vodka burns my throat, but not as much as the sambuca shots that she keeps handing me while we walk through the fairground.

Toby and Justin stand at the doughnut van while Gabs and I go on far too many rides. Screaming in laughter, our hair flies around with each movement of the ride, dressed in shorts and crop tops, covered in glitter, and fluorescent paint, the alcohol certainly making us feel years younger too.

We attend every year; a pact we made when we first met and bonded over raves and festivals. Toby had no chance of stopping me from coming, and he's lucky I didn't boot him in the balls for trying to make me stay at home.

Can you believe this arsehole said that someone in my profession shouldn't be going to things like this? Fuck off.

He seems less than impressed, watching as me and Gabs walk towards them, hand in hand, giggling as we try to fix our messed-up hair. I don't want him to be mad at me, I want him to enjoy himself, and spend our last night together having a blast.

However, when he takes my hand, his tight grip pulling me against him, I know he's far from happy, maybe a little drunk like me too. Why does he look so hot, pissed off?

"Stop being moody," I say, pouting my lips at him, the buzz running through me makes me stumble a little, and he huffs, his lips in a straight line.

He keeps me close as we walk towards the crowd, his arm wrapping around my waist as the drunken dancers start to circle us the deeper we go, the music getting louder, the ground shaking more, making Gabs and I to jump with the rest, downing another cup of booze.

Toby and Justin are deep in conversation, probably about how drunk we are, and I wink at Gabs, grabbing her hand to get away from the fun suckers for a minute. The crowd engulfs us as we continue to dance, swaying our hips to the beat, hands above us, ears ringing from the speakers blaring next to us.

I get lost in the moment, living my best life, not realising Gabs is no longer next to me. I twist and turn on the spot, trying to find her, or Toby, but with how busy the place is, it's impossible.

I push my way through the bodies, elbows hitting me and alcohol getting thrown in the air, landing on my head. My heart starts to race with panic, my anxiety making my breathing erratic as I search for them, finally freeing myself from the crowd and running straight into a large, muscular back.

"Aria?" Ewan tilts his head at me, tossing his cup aside, both hands settling on my shoulders. Frowning at me when I struggle to say a word, his eyes search the length of my body. "What's wrong?"