All Sorts of Banging

Chapter 1
All Sorts of Banging

 

Sunday, 10th August

Banging. That’s what she heard, and in more sense than one. Both her head and another external nuisance collaborated in order to drag the hungover woman from her restless sleep. Opening her left eye slightly, she now felt the burning sensation. Clearly, she was dehydrated - as if the dry-mouth and acidic throb in her gullet didn’t give it away already. With all of the courage she could muster, she scouted around for what the racket could be.

Without moving too much from her sprawled position, the blonde inhaled a wheezy breath. Another obvious impairment from the night before - the fact of her lungs felt like shrivelled prunes meant she’d smoked too much the prior night.

Waking up with the aftershocks of booze from the night before was not uncommon. In fact, it was normal. The trouble was finding out when it started. Looking down at herself, she was at least grateful for being in her own bed this time.

Not needing to even pull the quilt back - as it was on the floor on the opposite side of the grand four-poster bed - Rion shifting into a hunched sitting position. Platinum locks tangled and hindering her sight, and her feet resting on the cool hardwood, a feeling of self-pity washed over her. Checking the amount of light peeking through the curtains, she gathered it was early afternoon. Maybe. Heaving a breath as best her body would allow her without projectile vomiting like the kid from The Exorcist, the room owner pushed herself up, left the room, and took on the stairs that where apparently moving.

Skulking down the open staircase and around the corner leading into the kitchen, she could now hear the banging which was clearly getting louder with each step. Peeking around the corner of the doorframe, Rion was met by the sight of her friend.

Bathed in brilliant sunlight streaming in through the stretch of white wood panelled windows, a redhead even taller than the blonde growled at the kettle and slapped it twice. “Fuckin’ piece of useless sh-”

Leaning her shoulder against the doorframe, Rion watched on. She was amused by the sight, but using facial expressions hurt too much. “I see you’re having fun.” The blonde’s naturally husky voice came out even rougher than usual.

Jumping, and spinning around, the redhead gripped the loose fabric over her chest in fright. “You bitch. Don’t sneak up on people.”

“I couldn’t sneak at this moment, even if I wanted to.” The older woman’s voice croaked. “I’m sure anyone could smell the alcohol radiating off me from at least half a mile away.” Wafting her hand to dismiss the accusation, the blonde looking like a ghoul stood up as straight as she could and ventured further inside the large space filled with cool air from the ceiling fan.

“All I want is a cup of tea.” The redhead smacked the appliance again before sighing and turning away from it in defeat. In an attempt to hoist herself up onto the counter, the taller girl winced after forgetting that it was clearly strenuous deed. “That reminds me...” Lifting the hem of her bandeau top up and lowering the waistline of her shorts, she almost wailed. “Look at that shit.”

‘That shit’ was no doubt the blackish purple bruise on the front of her hip, around three fists big in circumference. Rion had previously forgotten about last night’s activities - As that had taken a backseat for her feeling like she’d been dragged to Hell and back on the party train. But seeing the mark that blurred her friend’s very distinct ink-work made the images come flooding back at an alarming, and nausea-inducing, rate.

Smudging the mess which had been black smoky eyeshadow less than twelve hours earlier, Rion itched her stinging lids. Unknowing of the mess she’d made worse, she went to run her fingers through her hair but thought twice about it when her digits immediately caught the offset of dreadlocks. “Do you remember what happened last night?”

“I remember I got laid.” The redhead shrugged with a grin.

“You whore.” Rion didn’t seem all that bothered by the fact which wasn’t quite a revelation as she crouched down and began scouring the cupboard shelves. Her condition making her sway for a moment, the blonde rooted through the glass bottles. “I mean after that.”

Resting her elbows back behind her on the worktop, Charlie hummed. She tried to recall - just as she had in a half-assed way all morning - but nothing came to mind. “I don’t even remember how we got back.”

“I drove. I’m sure I did.” Retrieving a bottle of unopened Jack Daniels from the pantry, the older female forced a long blink. “But after you showed me that bruise-”

“That’s not a fuckin’ bruise.” Appalled by the understatement, Charlie hissed. “Even the one I got when I was rammed into the marble counter back in Harrogate was nothing to compared to this.”

“Stop reliving your sexual experiences in my company; it will take too long.” Twisting the lid off the booze, the blonde gagged when the scent wafted up her nose. Reattaching her attention to her unimpressed friend, Rion gestured for her to grab a glass from the cabinet beside her. “What I’m trying to tell you, is that I remember how you got it.”

Instantly turning away, the redhead completed her task with a downcast huff. “I don’t think I want to know.”

“You bailed. We were running until we came to a fence...” The sickly woman looked off as she replayed the scene she could just about remember.

Placing two tumblers on the heavy duty marble island used for preparing food, Charlie shielded her eyes with her hand. “Oh God, I really don’t want to know now.”

 

Sunday, 10th August - 04:12am

Stiletto’s plunging into the mud of a lawn, the pair cackling about one thing or another as they gave it legs. They felt like they’d been running through the darkness of the unfamiliar location for at least twenty minutes, when in fact it hadn’t even been a minute.

“There’s a fence.”

“Jump it, Ri.” Charlie had heckled despite knowing her friend’s complete lack of athletic ability. And like that, the blonde had thought it a good idea to ‘jump’ the perimeter in the state she was in.

Hitting the ground on the other side, her knees and hands connecting with the rough concrete, the blonde half laughed, half cried. “Come on, before they catch us.” Through a drunken slur, she encouraged the redhead whom would have had less trouble than her due to her advantage in height.

But Charlie was wearing a silver pencil miniskirt. When she gripped the top of the wrought iron gate standing at four and a half foot, and threw her weight to clear the hurdle, it didn’t go to plan. To any sober person, it was no surprise that her hind leg didn’t cross the barrier - it barely made it six inches away from the other, let alone anything else. So, as she ran full pelt, her hip had slammed into the metal railing blocking her way. Hardly feeling it thanks to the booze, but still knocked off balance, the redhead merely breast-flopped over the hindrance and out onto the concrete by Rion’s hunched form.

It goes without saying, the blonde was in hysterics. And despite the grazes, the tear on the left knee of her favourite leather pants, and the punch on the side of her right boob that she received for choking on her own laughter like a maniac, the blonde could not stop cackling.

 

Dragging herself from the re-telling of the tale, Rion didn’t even look up when Charlie exhaled in self-pity. “No wonder I feel like the wife of an abuser.”

“My feet are so sore.” The blonde told as she wriggled cut and swollen toes on the cooling marble floor. Just as Rion did about the bruise a few moments prior, Charlie squinted off into thin air like Raven when she was having a vision.

“I broke my shoe.” The utterly saddened whine of Charlie set Rion off unto a coughing fit. “And I tried to throw it at you for laughing,” The redhead glared at the woman hacking her guts up over the counter. “but I missed…” The redhead concluded with a scoff.

Pinching the corners of her lips to stop herself from cracking up completely, Rion picked up her drink and downed it without any thought. With a hiss and a hew of a cough, the older woman declared through an array of contorted derp faces. “I think I could love this place.”

Charlie nodded in agreement, but her tone lost any excitement. “Me too, but I have a question.”

Wiping the eye leakage from the outer corners, the blonde clung to the counter. Pouring another round, she steeled herself for the inevitable.

“If we were running on foot, how did you drive home?”

Glaring at the deep amber liquid with intent, Rion licked her lips and blew out a heavy sigh as she pumped herself up. “We doubled back.”  Pushing the poison across the sleek, white worktop and towards her friend, Rion pulled a regretful face. “I think I’ll be having drunken flashbacks from this one for a while.” Snatching the tumbler meant for juice, she took three huge swigs without waiting for her company.

Rubbing her temple, Charlie wobbled her head. “I don’t even want to remember." Taking the liquid lunch which was actually breakfast considering neither of them had eaten yet, the redhead nutted up and downed the Southern spirit. "I have some bad feelings about the black splotches in my mind and I’m happy to keep them like that.”  Skewing her jaw and sticking her tongue out, Charlie returned the base of the glass to the counter.

Finding enough energy to smirk past the booze topping up the already high levels of alcohol in her system, Rion took a deep breath. Resting her forearms on the ledge which seperated the pair, the older female quirked her brow as she ran her tongue over her teeth. “Even if you screwed someone super hot?”

Accepting the drink which had been poured for her and bringing it to her lips, Charlie wafted her free hand dismissively. Eyes lowered to her Hello Kitty slippers, the redhead shook her head twice. “Nothing could make up for this feeling.”
 

Updated: 4th Feb 2016 - 16:00