Drunk Without Drinking | Cassandra and Georgia
When it came to stereotypes, Georgia completely and utterly filled the role of "party girl". Every night she came home at stupid o'clock, woke up with a hangover, sorted out her face, and got on with it. Her room had that ever-present scent of weed and strong cigarettes, and where people kept diaries and books, she kept used bottles and empty bags. She was, most people assumed, a bit of a screw up, and she was fine with that, she was fine with people taking her at face value. She liked it, she liked the fact that no one was trying to get to know her on a deep and personal level. That was why she'd signed up for this, to get away from her crappy life, and live it up in everywhere else. And France, well it was pretty damn perfect for forgetting yourself in. Everything about France was a contradiction the old with the new, the rich with the poor, the seedy with the classy. That was possibly why Georgia found it so easy to fit in there, to chat to locals and to blag her way into parties, to just generally have fun.
Some nights though, Georgia stayed at home, with her bottle of vodka and a pack of cigarettes, smoking through them as she contemplated where she was going from here, what she was running from...it was the time when she wrote the letters that she ultimately ripped up, and put feelings to bed. In other words, if locks were allowed on doors, Georgia would be using them. Her nights in were her opportunity to get deep and meaningful with herself - personal time. And normally, Georgia would never let anyone in, in fact, she'd probably attack them on sight because she couldn't bare to let anyone see how vulnerable she could be. But there was just something about the night, and it didn't feel quite right to dive into her room and drown her sorrows, or go out and party alone. For all of her lone wolf independence, Georgia got lonely. Really lonely.
Cassandra was the polar opposite to Georgia in every way possible, and yet Georgia could definitely see some of herself in Cassandra and, she had remembered their earlier conversation, how Cassandra couldn't sleep, and how, when most were sleeping, Georgia was knocking back shots...really, it was a great idea, and Georgia could have slapped herself for not doing it sooner. And it wasn't like Cassandra's room was far. Standing in front of the door, Georgia pushed it open slightly, poking her head inside to look for the girl "you know how you said you couldn't sleep? Well I've got the perfect antidote"