The lights were harsh and they hurt my eyes. They were flashing and moving from one obnoxious florescent color to the next. Instantly, I regretted my one moment of social neediness and longed to be back in the comfort of my bedroom. Alone.  It was good that I prepared with a few hits before I walked in to this mess of a party.

I walked to the bartender and ordered my usual gin and tonic. He served me immediately, which was possibly the only plus of being myself and a female right now. I sat at the bar and watched people laugh, and hit on each other, and get sloppy and it all seemed so trivial. I wondered why I was even here and why I hadn't left yet. I was signaling the bartender for my tab when an extremely drunk bro bumped into me while trying to order. My drink went all down the front of my shirt. I jumped back in surprise. 

"Oh, man. Wow." The drunken idiot spoke. "I'm sorry." It wasn't until we made eye contact that I fully saw how incredibly fucked up this kid was. His eyes were brimmed with red and glazed over and his speech was slurred as all hell. He grabbed a cocktail napkin and began dabbing at my alcohol covered chest.

"As much as I love a stranger touching my tits, I think I'll pass." I grabbed the napkins away and tried to finish the job myself. 

Another gin and tonic was placed in front of us with a wink from the bartender. "Six even." He said as he looked at the man obviously incapable of drinking anymore. When he was digging around in his pockets pulling out a wad of cash, I noticed something fall to the floor. I considered letting it go, but it caught the light at the right angle and was now glowing underneath the bar stool. As high as I was, I was not in a position to let magical, glowing things pass. I bent down unnoticed and picked it up. I felt the plastic between my fingertips and rejoiced silently. Ever since Taylor and I had a falling out, no drug dealer in town was speaking to me. It was her doing, I'm sure, but either way I had been cut off from this very substance. 

I needed to celebrate.

I grabbed my drink from the bar, patted drunky on the back, and continued toward the nearest bathroom. I wanted to do the polite thing and thank him, but I wasn't sure how to without giving myself away. I would thank him later, I decided. Right now isn't a good time for either of us.

If I haven't said it before, let me say it now: Public bathrooms are the worst. It was so crowded in the women's that I could only get a foot in before getting squeezed out. I don't know girls needed to always visit the bathroom in packs. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the back of a guy enter the men's restroom. While the door was still open, I managed to squeeze through before he had time to lock it behind him. And before I had the sense not to. This was a potentially dangerous move. I could be killed in here. Or raped. Or worse, I could get involved in a lengthy conversation of small talk that could further prevent me from continuing into my drug induced downward spiral for the night.

"Don't worry, this will only take a second." I assured the man while locking the door behind us. Which was no easy feat with a drink in my hand and a high affecting my brain cells, mind you. There was some intense balancing that needed to happen that I wasn't sure I was capable of doing.  "Feel free to piss or whatever it is you came to do. I won't look. I'm just going to stand here in the corner, dry my shirt, and live my life." After I successfully locked the door, I walked to the hand dryer, slamming it obnoxiously to turn it on. This night had become a damn obstacle course ever since I found this bag. Usually the prize would be at the end of said obstacle course, but I never was good at doing things in order. I pulled my sticky shirt over my head and hung it on the dryer to dry. Once I was certain it wasn't going to blow off,  I opened the bag and fingered the pill not understanding how I could have gotten so lucky. My heart beat quickly in anticipation as I pulled it out. I couldn't be sure if I was shivering from excitement or the lack of my shirt, but I was shivering nonetheless. I gently put it on the tip of my tongue and was in the process of bringing the gin to my lips to help me swallow when I was roughly forced to turn around. 

In front of me, of course, stood Justin Timberlake with a fire in his eyes like I had never seen before. Before my substance abused brain could understand what was happening, his hand was on the back of my neck and tangled up in my hair. My warm back was suddenly against the cold bathroom wall and his tongue was in my mouth. This kiss was a bit different from other kisses we had shared. Usually Justin started out slow, applying pressure when things got a little more intense, but this kiss started out intense. I ran my hand that wasn't holding the glass over his buzzcut and noted how it felt like velvet and how I thought it a disservice that other parts of my body couldn't feel it as well. He reached down, grabbed my ass, and pulled me onto his hips without warning. My spine was digging into the cheap tile with a vengeance and I had to lock my legs around his waist to keep from sliding down. I tore myself form his lips to pay attention to his neck and collarbone. He moaned and pushed me further into the wall. I had the urge to scream, but I wasn't sure if it was from pain or pleasure. Maybe both. When he pulled away, he quickly took my drink from my hand and took a drink ignoring the straw. It wasn't until then that I noticed the pill was no longer in my mouth. When Justin swallowed, he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue to show that there was nothing left. He had swallowed it.

I was so shocked that my legs released his waist and I slid limp down the wall, probably picking up every disease known to man on the way down. The haziness of my brain wouldn't allow me to fully comprehend what just happened. We were at a standstill. Both staring at each other from our respective positions. The calm before the inevitable shit storm.

I was filled with a bout of rage. "You bastard!" I screamed. "That was my only one!"

"Serves you right for following me into the bathroom." He smirked.

"Don't flatter yourself. I wasn't aware it was you." My eyes rolled without my permission. "The woman's was full."

"You expect me to believe you just followed an anonymous guy into the bathroom with the intentions of removing your shirt and taking drugs?"

"My shirt was wet!" I yelled, exasperated. Before I knew what I was doing, I was back on my feet knocking the glass out of his hands. It shattered noisily on the floor without so much as either of us breaking our staring contest.

There was no where else to go with my back already up against the wall when he closed the distance between us again. I expected him a repeat of the earlier makeup session, but instead he dodged my lips and went for my ear, "Is that all that's wet?"

I didn't know what else to do, so I hit him, and once I started it felt so good that I couldn't stop. "I hate you! I fucking hate you!" I spat. My chest was heaving. My black bra was now barely keeping me from being naked from the waist up, but I didn't care. This is what hatred will do to you. It will make you not care that you're half naked. In all of my commotion, the fact that Justin was sneaking glances at my chest did not go unnoticed. He broke the staring context. I win.

He skillfully dodged my arms, grabbing them and pinning them at my sides. "No, you don't." He laughed. " You love me, remember?"

I did remember. A few nights ago, the last time we had seen each other, that's what I mumbled right before I passed out. Surely, he couldn't believe I had meant that. I was stoned. I was emotional. I was a wreck. I was lying. 

I was an idiot.

This proved that he was going to use something I said while completely out of my mind against me for the rest of my life. At this point, I could only hope that he was too stoned to remember other things I had admitted that night. 

I fought against his arms, but he was too strong for me to break loose. "Promise me you won't try to hit me again." He spoke sincerely. I said nothing, only glaring at him. "I can stay like this all night." He shrugged. 

Our attention turned away from each other when we heard someone beat against the door trying to get in. "You can keep me in here all night, but can you keep him out?"

Justin only shrugged, "Guess you're trying to find out."

"I'll scream." I threatened.

"He'll just think we're having sex." He reasoned. I huffed. This was unbelievable. Yet, as I stood here topless with razor burn all over my face, it was totally believable. Damnit. 

"Promise me." He urged.

"I promise you that I will break your nose the second I have a chance." I spat at him.

"Jesus Christ," He sighed as he gathered my both of my wrists in one of his monstrous hands and grabbed my shirt off the dryer. In one swift motion, he threw me, still shirtless, over his shoulder and opened the door. "All yours, man." He said to the agitated gentleman on the other side., "And, uh, watch out for the glass."