“Are you okay, Gab?” Freya touched her shoulder gently. Gab tightened her lips and shook head slightly, pulling her doona over her head.

“Did your mum call again?” Freya asked.

Gab nodded, and Freya sighed.

“That sucks,” she said. She had watched Gab try to reason with her mother on the phone enough now to decide that she didn’t envy Gab the task, nor the relationship.

“What’s on tonight?” asked Gab, all of a sudden poking her head out from under the covers and looking at Freya. “With the others, I mean?”

“Not heaps. Steph and Dylan are organising something at his place.”

“Are you going?”

“No, I hadn’t planned to. Sounds like it’ll be loud and overcrowded. Probably hectic,” Freya predicted.

“Can we go?” Gab asked. “I want hectic.”

“You do?” asked Freya, surprised. “I thought you didn’t like that kind of thing.”

“Not usually,” replied Gab. She shrugged. “Just feel like something different. Don’t care anymore.”

“Okay,” said Freya. “I don’t mind.”

Gab nodded. That was that.

***

Freya and Gab walked into the already-overcrowded Brunswick townhouse, owned by Dylan’s parents. The sun was setting and the smell of jasmine battled with lingering smells of stale petroleum for ascendency. Gab wondered vaguely how Dylan was going to get away with this obnoxious event, given the non-space between neighbours. Then she remembered she didn’t care about anything anymore, and she just wanted to forget—to forget there was ever anything like responsibility or guilt. It was anger today. Anger and apathy.

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They knocked, and no one answered, so they opened the door. As they stepped over the threshold, Steph appeared on her way to the kitchen.

“Hey, you guys!” she shouted over the music; she came over to give them each a quick hug. “Gab!” Steph looked her up and down and Gab pretended not to notice. “You’re wearing makeup! You’re dressed up! You look great.”

“Thanks,” Gab looked aside.

“We’ve got food,” said Freya. “Where do we put it?”

“Thanks guys! Just chuck it on the kitchen table.” Steph gestured to a room on the right of the narrow passage. Gab thought she saw the wall pulse with heavy bass coming from around the corner. Just then a guy Gab vaguely recognised came and put his arms around Steph. It wasn’t Dylan.

“Hey Stephie, who are your friends?” he grinned foolishly. Steph looked uncomfortable with this guy pressed against her, but she didn’t push him away.

“Robbie! Are you pissed already?” she asked, semi-playfully.

“Nah, coursssse not,” he said. Gab usually felt the urge to punch these sorts of guys in the face and tell them to get lost. But strangely today, she felt an odd pull of attraction. Robbie let go of Steph and came and stood between Freya and Gab.

“Ladies!” he said, offering them each an arm, “Let me take youuuu, to the ballroom!”

Steph grabbed the chips and dip from Freya and the pack of donuts from Gab.

“Go on girls,” she said. “Have fun!”

The bass got louder as Robbie took Freya and Gab to the lounge. The furniture was against the walls, the curtains were closed, it was dark, and the fairy lights strung across the room set off an ambient glow. Bodies whirled and pulsed and pressed to a pervading beat. It was alluring. It was a place to forget yourself. Right now, Gab was all for it.

“You ladies want a drink?” yelled Robbie in Gab’s ear. Gab nodded but Freya shook her head.

“No thanks,” she yelled back.

“Okay, drink for one!” And Robbie ducked off to a table in the corner that was piled high with cheap alcohol.

“Hey Freya!” a couple of girls sitting on the couch hailed Freya.

“I might go sit with the girls a bit,” Freya half motioned, half spoke to Gab. “Come if you want!”

Gab was about to nod, but then Robbie was there, handing her a colourful bottle and suddenly, his hand took hers and it was clear he was inviting her to dance. Gab shrugged.

“Have fun!” smiled Freya. She went over to the couch to join the girls she knew.

Yes. This. This was exactly what Gab needed. Robbie pulled her into the centre of the room and she just stood there, head back, arms down, letting the noise and the movement roll over her. It was so good. It was so empty. The layers and layers of complexity that always cloaked her simply melted away, and there was only darkness and bass and a weird tasting drink and Robbie.