Summary: Before The Breakdown and BTB (Reprise) from Farrah’s perspective and with... decidedly more saddness.
A/N: Wow, a We Are The Tigers fic? I said many moons ago that this account was supposed to be multi-fandom - here is the multifandom! Speach directly from the show is in italics. This also features Reese and Farrah’s conversation but I cut it and change it slightly. I wanted it to feel unique to me lol. (TW: Alcohol, vomiting, very brief self/harm mention, general self-depreciation.)
Outside, the wind blew in harsh motions, leaves of the trees swayed in a crisp, late summer breeze. The sun had barely set, casting dim shadows across the front garden, illuminating the gently swaying trees in a distorting fashion; the shadows seeming longer and wider than the trees had been themselves. Neatly cut grass lay at the base of the trees, ever so slightly flattened with feet having walked - paced - about the garden; each blade of grass and stray flower almost destroyed on the areas which had been stood on.
Despite being late summer, the chill of the breeze began to pick up, feeling like jagged rocks being thrown, rather than the cooling breeze which was often associated with summer. The harsher breeze caused Farrah to shiver, arms wrapping around herself, suddenly regretting the vest-shirt and shorts she had worn, wishing it was just as warm as it had been when she arrived at the sleepover.
Tears which hadn't quite fallen yet stung in her eyes as the wind continued to whip and whistle past her, tangling up her carefully braided plaits. Annleigh had long gone, leaving Farrah in the cold, guilt adding to the icy feeling inside. She truly hadn't meant to break Annleigh's phone... or be quite so intrusive. Swallowing hard to try and rid herself of the lump in her throat, Farrah shivered again, the breeze seeming to become harsher with each breath she took.
Shaking her head, Farrah reached for her flask before finally turning to face the house which she'd been avoiding glancing at, just in case she saw Annleigh staring back at her, face rife with disappointment and anger. The flask was freezing to the touch, the covering on the flask did little to keep it warm. Taking a long drink from it, Farrah began to feel her head swim a little - the comforting sort of swimming, the way she liked it. The feeling of giddy warmth had quickly diminished during the conversation with Annleigh.
Taking a deep breath and placing the flask back to where it had been, Farrah made her way back to Riley's house despite hesitation and doubts. However, she avoided the living room. The comforting feeling left her just as quickly as it came, as she stood in the hallway, separating her from everything else. Without warning, the final words Annleigh had spoken to her rushed back, the alcohol could only keep them from biting for so long.
"You are not my sister."
The words felt like daggers to her chest as she recalled the events of moments ago. Maybe, despite all of Farrah's efforts, she hadn't tried hard enough. Maybe... she wasn't enough. Maybe Farrah would never be enough - all she could amount to was an alcoholic by age fifteen. That's all she was ever going to be. Useless.
Tears pricked behind her eyes again, but she couldn't cry, not yet, not here. Farrah's chest constricted - she meant nothing to Annleigh, she was nothing but a stupid child who Annleigh had to be around. She meant nothing to Annleigh - she was nothing. Annleigh hated her.
Tears still threatening to spill down her paled face, Farrah stumbled backwards slightly, taking a gasping breath for air. The room began to feel heavy, as if it was devoid of all air and breeze; taking a breath felt like breathing through water, close to the bottom of the ocean, the surface too far out of reach as Farrah willed herself to the top. Without thinking, Farrah drew her hands to her forearms, scratching at her skin harder than intending too - anything to bring her to the surface again.
Farrah couldn't let herself cry here - what if someone walked in? All they would see would be a weak willed child who couldn't even go to a simple team sleepover without the use of alcohol and who was in tears? Farrah couldn't let that, couldn't let them see what Annleigh saw her as. Even the idea of someone seeing her in the eyes which Annleigh saw her, made her feel sick. Annleigh hated her - she couldn't let everyone else hate her too.
The sound of the door to the hallway was all which brought her somewhat back to herself, back to Riley's home and the sleepover she should be attending. Rather than allow someone to see her in such a state that she was, Farrah made her way to the bathroom at the end of the hall, hoping that no one saw she was there or, worse of all, noticed she was gone.
The tiles on the bathroom floor, as Farrah found herself sliding to the floor, were luminescent white and freezing cold, however, the cold was a welcomed cold rather than the unwanted chill of outside. As well as the floor tiles being a much too bright shade of white, it seemed like everything else was too, including the light, which she found herself regretting that she'd turned on.
As Farrah leant back against the side of the wall and reached for her flask once more, she began to realise how much her head was starting to pound and how the nausea from when she had arrived had only grown worse. Another reason to reiterate how worthless she was, Farrah saw. Feeling unwell at a sleepover simply due to alcohol.
Farrah had tried to stop - she'd tried to stop so many times. But she couldn't. Despite how determined she always found herself to be on the first day, telling herself that she could get her life back together, pick up the pieces of it before having to sit her SATs - Farrah always crashed back down again. She would never give in the first time, or the second time, and even, sometimes, the third time. But she had always given in past then, past the second or third want of it, the craving, the pain and feeling terrible from withdrawal. Farrah never managed to be strong enough.
Rather than taking a sip straight away, Farrah held the flask, running her thumb against the patterns and truly considering if she wanted to take another sip, or give herself another grand array of empty promises and "I'll try harders". There was no point anymore, no point in the promises and statements without meaning. Farrah found no reason anymore. If the alcohol ebbed the whirring in her mind and uneasiness in her chest, then so be it.
Farrah took another sip of the liquid; the sour taste sliding over her lips with ease as the metal was brought back to them, the coldness of the flask in contrast to how flushed her face felt. The burning liquid setting a warmth ablaze in her chest and stomach as it always did, warming her up and allowing the familiar comfort and gentle buzz that the feeling of the alcohol always carried.
However, it was merely for a moment. The warmth felt like a fire in her stomach as Farrah set down her flask in a jerked motion and positioned herself to the toilet before she began to retch. It was nothing out of the ordinary, Farrah would often have too much to drink... but it had never happened at someone else's house when there wasn't a party. It was a damn sleepover for a cheerleader's squad, and here she was, throwing up in the bathroom of the captain!
Retching again, her throat burned and her mouth tasted acidic as she was sure she brought up all what was left in her stomach. Sighing with an arm resting on the side of the bright white toilet, Farrah wished the ground would swallow her whole then and there. As her stomach once again rolled and she leaned back over, prepared for nothing more than painful heaving, Farrah heard a distant voice.
"Farrah?" The voice began.
"Farrah?" The voice continued as Farrah lifted her head ever slightly, coughing as she did.
"Mmm?" Farrah replied, pasting on a face that was as happy as she could be, despite feeling so utterly destroyed.
"Farrah?" The voice went on, Farrah now realising it to be the voice of Reese, sighing a breath of relief due to it not being Annleigh.
"Mmm?" Farrah replied again, resting her head on her arm as she wished simply to be left alone.
"Holy shit, Farrah!"
"Surprise!" Farrah hummed, her voice as joyful as she could possibly make it. An ill attempt at a smile bloomed across her face, not quite matching the eyes.
"Are you okay?" Reese asked, her voice seemed genuine, but despite this, Farrah refused to meet her eyes, refused to show her how she was feeling. Besides, Farrah and Reese had barely spoken before, it was better to give this impression - the impression she was fine and likeable.
"Perfect!" Farrah quipped, half smiling once again and grasping at her flask as Reese continued to ramble in an attempt to help the situation. Farrah honestly didn't mind the rambling. While she would prefer solitude, another voice for a little while might distract her from her own jarring thoughts.
Taking the flask in one hand and unscrewing the cool, metal lid in the other, Farrah took another sip. Immediately, she regretted it. The taste of the alcohol turned her stomach again as she coughed up the small amount she'd managed to swallow of it. Perhaps water would have been a better option, Farrah considered.
"I think I should get Annleigh-" was the next thing Farrah heard Reese despite the fact she had been rambling for sometime.
"She hates me..." Farrah felt herself accidentally speak, the words tumbling out by themselves all too easily. "I'd rather you just go-" Farrah finished, attempting to correct herself. If Reese knew Annleigh hated her, it would just give incentive to hate her as well.
Farrah watched as something flashed in Reese's eyes, a glimmer of... compassion? Farrah wasn't quite sure what it was, and she didn't stare long enough at her eyes, once again worried that Reese would see how she truly felt.
"And-" Farrah began. "Don't tell anyone you saw me here, okay?"
Reese nodded, her eyes on the floor now. "Why did you drink so much, anyway?"
Farrah swallowed, the familiar lump of anxiety present in her throat again as she shrugged, closing her eyes as the room began to sway slightly as she tried to right herself into a standing position. "Everyone else was?" Farrah shrugged, hoping Reese just would leave.
The flash of disappointment which Farrah saw as Reese, disappointment that overrode the compassion. The glimmer was enough to feel like a tonne of bricks had been dropped on Farrah's chest again, making it difficult to take a breath. With shaking hands, Farrah positioned herself in front of the mirror, willing herself to take deep breaths, telling herself not to think about Annleigh, not to think about Reese.
It didn't work.
"She doesn't think of you as a sister," Farrah whispered to herself. "You're just a liability - a stupid little kid," Farrah continued, unable to stop herself as she grabbed her flask. "Just..." Farrah took a moment to take a shuddering breath. "Pour it all away," she continued as she unscrewed the cap once more with unsteady hands. "It's your own fault for getting to this point, Farrah," she mumbled to herself as she watched the liquid drain.
Tears had begun to brim Farrah's eyes for the third time of the day, this time spilling over rather than threatening too. The flask of alcohol was comforting to have with her and she wasn't even sure that getting rid of it would make Annleigh consider her a sister anyway. That's all she wanted - all she wanted was family.
With tears spilling faster, Farrah found it harder to stay righted as her chest rose and fell rapidly, her legs began to buckle before she was back onto the ground again, her knees drawn into her chest. Nothing she would ever do would be enough for Annleigh... or anyone. It was getting harder to take a breath as she buried her head into her knees, once again wishing for the world to swallow her up.
Before long, Farrah began to hear the gentle patter of footsteps, and so, she stood up. Despite her legs feeling unsure that they'd support her and tears still falling down her cheeks. "Just need a minute!" Farrah replied, her voice wavering and quiet, before she heard the bathroom door open and a figure stepped in.
Tell me if you want to be tagged in future WATT fics!
God I must've puked my soul up this morning. I was awake at 5 am doing my best impression of a death metalist hungover. I hate my stupid stomach issues.
