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Her Name Was Molly

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Like all things, it started off as just an idea.

You could blame the heat, maybe even the alcohol, but everyone knows it’s hard to find a good time without some bad people.

'Bad people' came in the form of Molly. She was a vision among dark lighting and heavy music, her hips swaying to a rattling beat.

The club was hot, too many bodies in too little of a space, and Colby had lost sight of Brennen nearly an hour ago. None of that mattered though, not as Molly set her sights on him.

She came up to him with a confidence that made him uncomfortably aware of the eyes following her. For a stranger, she wasn’t afraid to get close, and on reflex, Colby found his hands going to her hips to steady her, unintentionally pulling her closer, into the cradle of his arms as people pressed in on all sides of them.

It was dark, but between flashes of light his chest grew tighter with each up-close glimpse of her stunning eyes and sly smirk.

“I’m Molly.” She barely whispered but he clung to her words. He had heard of her before, in stories and in pictures. It always seemed like she was a ghost, there one second and gone once you looked back. No one had ever pinned her down.

Trying to hold onto a moment he knew would be fleeting, Colby’s hands stayed circled around her waist.

This close, sharing breath, his eyes traced her’s. She still seemed unreal.

Everything about her was mystifying. No one knew where she came from, who she hung out with, or why she jumped from club to club, never leaving any real proof of her existence.

“Pictures last longer,” she told him sweetly.

He couldn’t help but smile. “What’s you’re name?” He asked again, fishing for something more.

“I already said.”

He waited her out until her own challenging look broke into a smile. “Molly,” she repeated. Her eyes were blown as she shifted against him.

Colby found himself laughing, his hands automatically resettling in a tighter grip around her waist, hoping to keep her for one more minute. “I don’t believe you,” he yelled over the music.

The song changed and under the disguise of hearing her better, he pulled her to a less crowded area.

She fit so well against him as he leaned against the dirty brick wall of the club.

Molly- Colby was still doubtful that was her real name- had a certain brashness he’d grown to accept over the last minute. So, he went with it when she pulled him closer despite the thinning crowd, showing off a blue pill on her tongue before it disappeared back into her mouth. All the while, her hands were tight in his shirt, keeping him close even though he had no intention of moving.

Want one? You’ll like it.”

He was too entranced to even try to process her words, so he mindlessly nodded.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or the couple of hits he’d taken off of the joint Brennen had been sucking on, but his eyes couldn’t leave the movement of her mouth until he found his gaze drifting lower, lazily following the bob of her throat as she swallowed.

As if proud, she showed off her empty tongue. “Your turn.” Her voice was in his ear, her breath hot.

She was everywhere.

He opened his mouth willingly as she leaned in to kiss him, a red pill jumping from one tongue to another.

***

“What did you take?” Brennen was laughing at him, his face close, his hands pushing sweaty hair off Colby’s forehead to get a better look at his dilated pupils.

Grin easy and eyes blown, Colby could only shrug.

Whatever it was, at least the come up was nice. Between the heat of the air and the heat of bodies, he was comfortable but still wanted something different.

He wanted Brennen closer, even as the hand sweeping his hair back steadied, tugging gently in a way that made his eyes flutter close and bones melt.

“You’re so stupid,” Brennen tells him, but he’s still laughing, a smile stretching his face as he shakes Colby. “We cant take you home like this, bro. Sam already doesnt like me.”

And maybe Sam will be mad, Colby thinks, but there’s nothing either of them can do about it now.

“So we don’t tell him,” he whispers back conspiratorially, the sound immediately lost under the thrum of music. Brennen nods anyway. “Your funeral,” he chirps, messing up the hair he’d been playing with just seconds ago to annoy Colby.

Despite himself, Colby can feel his body leaning forward, chasing the feeling of Brennen’s hands in his hair. It doesn’t go unnoticed; Brennen’s half closed eyes squint closer as he shoves Colby back against the rough brick wall of the club. “You fucking like it,” he teases, words slurred in a mocking voice rather then because of the alcohol and weed in his system.

Whatever Colby took has made him careless. He shrugs, ramming his head jokingly into Brennen’s shoulder. “Do it again.” Between the fabric kissing his lips and the arms wrapping around his waist, he settles against his best friend.

He’s never felt so swaddled, hot sticky skin pressing against his somehow grounding him.

Molly, his brain helpfully supplies, as he rubs his cheek against the impossibly soft feel of Brennen’s shirt. It must be Molly.

Ten minutes later, as the lights become glaring and paint drips from the walls, Colby starts doubting himself.

He’s taken Molly before. Probably one too many times if he’s being honest, but it’s never felt like this.

“LSD?” Brennen asks him. They’re walking down half-empty streets now, Brennen’s hand at his back, forcing him forward, reminding him to walk.

Colby doesnt bother with an answer. Instead, his eyes dance from person to person, streetlight to stop sign, and finally settle back on Brennen as he pulls them to a rough halt.

“What?” He asks.

His best friend stands like a mountain cutting through the clouds of people surrounding them. The air’s so thin up here, Colby can barely catch his breath.

“Does it feel like LSD?”

The bubbly, energetic Brennen from twenty minutes ago is long gone, worry dropping him into sobriety.

“No,” Colby decides, looking back at the cars racing past them on the street. There’s so many. Too many, even. All these cars, all these people, exist around him and somehow he feels like he’s in the middle of it all, everything circling him like he’s the sun.

He’s too out of it to notice the way Brennen’s breath anxiously catches in his throat, his hand shooting forward to circle Colby’s waist, steadying him as he stumbles.

“I have to get you home, man.”

There’s no debate. Colby dizzily follows where Brennen leads, trusting a seemingly gravitational pull to safety; always towards Brennen.

***

After what feels like hours of mindless floating, the uber pulls up to a dark house with a lit garage.

It feels so familiar to Colby, especially as Brennen pulls him through the gated entrance and towards the open garage door.

“Elton,” Colby cheers upon seeing his friend, not yet putting two and two together.

He’s shushed immediately by an overly large hand sealing over his mouth. The overly large hand is attached to a very unhappy friend. “I told you, we’re sneaking in,” Brennen chastises him.

Colby doesnt understand why they’re breaking into what he now knows is his own house, but he nods anyway, prying at Brennen’s hand so that he can talk.

“Elton,” he whispers once he’s free, opening his arms for a hug from his ‘uncle’.

The weary look he’s met with makes his arms fall and despair fill his lungs. He just wants a hug.

Brennen, at least, offers his support, curling a protective arm around his waist.

“What did you do to Colby?” Elton asks, carefully slow. His voice sounds dangerously deep, almost threatening, and it makes Colby unconsciously take a step behind his best friend, using him as a human shield.

In response to the tone, Brennen’s hands shoot up in innocence, leaving Colby without help to stay standing. As he teeters, both of his friends dart towards him with a quickness that makes him dizzy from just watching.

“Whoa,” he laughs into Elton’s chest, happily letting his friends hold his weight.

“We were literally separated for like two hours and I found him like this,” Brennen explains, “he doesnt know what he took.”

Elton is terrifyingly silent, taking in Brennen's words. “Excuse me?” Colby cant deny that this time the angry tone is directed directly at him.

He shrugs helplessly with a grimace. “Molly gave it to me,” he defends.

It’s obviously not the right answer.

“Molly- Molly? That Molly?” Brennen’s voice cracks as it goes up an octave, forcing a laugh from Colby.

“Do it again,” he cheers, transfixed, unaware of the silent conversation happening over his head.

From his reaction, it’s obvious that Elton’s heard enough rumors about the girl from his friends to know it’s not good. “But this obviously isn’t the drug molly,” he points out, motioning uselessly to how him and Brennen are still being forced to hold most of Colby’s weight.

Offended, Colby scoffs and tries to stand up on his own. He has to push their hands off him, and he falls into them more than once, but still- he’s independent. He doesnt need no man.

“Can we get him to his room?” Brennen asks, when neither him or Elton have the answers they need.

“How about the couch,” Elton counters. “Stairs don’t seems like a good idea right now,” he adds, catching Colby’s arm as he stumbles into him yet again, still trying to uselessly prove to them that he can stand on his own.

He’s starting to hate the way they talk over him like he can’t hear.

“Sam’s not going to be happy,” he tells them knowingly, just to prove to them that he’s following their conversation.

Brennen shoots him an annoyed look like he’s interrupting the adults talking, but Elton’s face stops looking so pinched, so Colby takes that as a win and runs with it, at least until Brennen speaks again. “Yeah, well he’s going to find out anyway if we end up taking you to the E.R.” There’s something so berating about his tone that it forces Colby to rightfully keeping his mouth shut after, letting his friends lead him to the couch in the living room.

They don’t even make it two steps through the doorway into the kitchen before they’re stopped; Aaron, Corey, and Sam all frozen around the island at their appearance.

“What the hell happened to him?” Sam asks.

“I met Molly,” Colby smiles stupidly.

In the corner of his eye he sees Brennen scrub a hand down his face.

Right, not good. Supposed to be a secret, he thinks.

“It’s not Brennen’s fault. I took it knowingly,” he admits, trying at least to dig Brennen out of this mess while he still can.

His response, predictably, doesnt seem to impress anyone.

Sam, least of all. “When you go out with a friend, you look out for them.” His eyes are still set on Brennen, his tone chilling.

Things only escalate from there, too quick for Colby to follow. Between the yelling and the tense setting of the room, he can feel his breaths getting deeper, slower maybe.

He finds his weight shifting more and more onto Elton, the room spinning and stopping, stopping and spinning.

It’s getting hot. Really hot.

“Would you be just as mad then if I came back high on something? Would you blame Colby?” Brennen shoots back.

“Guys-”

Colby tries to get their attention, but he can hear his own voice, his words slurred and too soft to be heard over the fighting.

“At least we’d expect that from you-” Sam’s held back by Corey, who puts himself firmly between the two, his voice growing to be heard over their yelling. “Fight later, right now we need to make sure he’s alright-”

As if on cue, the darkness dancing on the edge of Colby’s vision takes over, his eyes rolling back and the surprise of his full weight sending both Elton and Brennen to the ground, trying to slow his fall and lower him gently.