‘Rude stupid bitch,’ she reads the girl’s lips.
There’s a constant stream of toilet doors unlocking and opening, clickety-clack of high heels wobbling on tiles, doors banging. Everyone’s looking at her now. All eyes, wide eyes. The ground is swirling, Laura needs to reach out to hold something or she’ll fall. She decides against the girl in front of her with the mahogany skin and the big boobs in the belly-exposing top. Turquoise belly-button piercing. Lip liner but no lipstick. She looks out for something to lean on, the sinks, but there’s a line of girls fixing their make-up, with their phones in their hands, pointing at her. Flashes blind her. No one will help her, she’s not sure if she’s calling for help. Perhaps she should. They’re viewing her through their screens as though she’s not real, as though she’s not flesh and blood right there in front of them. They’re looking at her as if she’s on the television.
At the cottage, at home with her mam and Gaga, Laura used to look at people on television, or in books, newspapers and magazines. Sometimes she wanted to really see people, really touch them. In this world, people have that luxury and all they want is to see each other through screens.
She hears the clicking of the doors locking, the bangs, toilets flushing, the clickety-clack of high heels. The girls around her start laughing, throwing their heads back, loud, dirty laughs. Perhaps those sounds were from Laura’s mouth. She’s not sure, she’s so dizzy. She’s here but she doesn’t feel like she’s here. She holds a hand to her foggy head. She needs help, she reaches out to the mahogany girl, sees a snake tattoo on her wrist, black and spiralling up the girl’s arm. Laura hisses in acknowledgement of it, and falls into her, but she pushes her away. Some girls jump in and shout ‘Fight!’
Laura’s confused, she doesn’t want to fight, she just doesn’t want to fall.
Then all of a sudden, she’s in someone’s arms, the person is pulling her away roughly. She doesn’t want to fight, all the girls are laughing, phones up in the air, taking photos or filming. She’s taken from the bathroom and down a corridor, she realises it’s a man she doesn’t know who’s dragging her and she panics. Starts to fight him. Why would the girls laugh at this, why wouldn’t they protect her? Defend her?
There’s a glass in her face, she doesn’t recognise the man. He’s trying to make her drink it. She doesn’t want it. There’s no one else around, the music is so loud, she can barely hear what he’s saying. She’s heard about people drugging drinks. He’s pushing it in her face and his arms are wrapped tightly around her. She doesn’t want it. She knocks it out of his hand and it smashes on the floor. The anger on his face. Laura is confused. She’s led along the corridor by the man, looking around but it’s all a blur, she can barely focus on any one thing. She can’t see, she can’t hear, she can’t think. She wants Solomon, she needs him, she can’t think of anyone else.
Suddenly she’s outside the club and the angry man leaves her there alone. He comes back to give her her coat and she realises he wasn’t trying to abduct her or drug her. He’s security. She’s freezing and she puts her coat on. ‘Sorry,’ she says quietly, but he’s not interested. His suit is wet, he disappears inside, telling her to wait there.
He returns with Rory, who’s putting his jacket on, confused at first, but then when he sees her he grins. ‘What did you get up to? They couldn’t get me out of there fast enough.’
Laura’s head spins, she needs to get away. She turns to leave and sees a crowd of people who are trying to get into the club. She tries to step aside to let them pass but they don’t, they form a wall in front of her. She realises they have cameras, they’re taking photos of her. She can’t see the ground in front of her, she can barely see with all the flashes. She stumbles and falls to the ground. She doesn’t feel any pain but it takes her a moment to gather herself. Rory is there, hands under her arms. She hears him laughing, and he pulls her up.
She doesn’t think this is funny. He can’t stop laughing.
She tries to walk straight but feels herself go the other way. Rory chuckles and grabs her tightly. She feels sick.
This is all wrong. They’re in an alleyway, she can’t see through to the other side, which makes her feel claustrophobic. There is no space in this city. There are too many people. She retches.
‘No, not here,’ Rory says, not laughing now. ‘Laura,’ his tone is darker, warning, as they’re completely surrounded by paparazzi. Laura is slipping from his grasp, her body and legs are practically like jelly. She’s taller than him, he struggles to keep her up.
‘Move back,’ Rory shouts at the photographers.