(. 0 1 ) LIGHTWEIGHT

Most would be immediately sobered by the fact that they were hanging off of a second storey balcony, but Taliana Levosa was far too wasted to care. The only thing keeping her from plummeting to a sure death was a football playing Columbia graduate. She couldn't remember how she ended up here; how she ended up kicking her legs up and down, giggling at the sweet nothings he muttered in her ear. She forgot those half-lies the minute they left his mouth, only smiling because the stars were so pretty and at midnight, the day was still young.

Her name was muttered. She looked at the man holding her on the balcony. He said something about leaving, but she laughed it off, opting for pointing out constellations that she knew were wrong. Her vision was so blurred the stars she could spot bled into one another, producing a light glow for the moonless sky.

He was tugging her now, trying to pull the tall blonde away from her safe haven. At first she resisted, not sure what was going on. Eventually he coaxed her off the iron-wrought bars, letting her press her bare feet on the cool tile of the floor. They entered the brightly lit bedroom where little groups were scattered about: on the bed, on the small, white sofa, on the table shoved against the wall. Everyone was in their own world, especially Taliana.

Suddenly they were out of that room, down the dark hallway. The bass of some fast-beat sugar pop song rocked the floor, but all that left Taliana were uncomfortable giggles. Even her fuzzy mind wanted to know what was going on, where they were going, but Mr. Columbia Graduate didn't disclose any information. Vaguely Taliana remembered wondering what a twenty-two year old was doing at a high school party, but after the first drink and those that followed, she learned to not care.

There was a wall, then a body, then a tongue shoving down her throat. Her senses arrived then via airlift, because if Taliana Levosa was anything she was not a slut. She didn't even know this man's name. What was going on?

"St-stop," Taliana muttered, pushing the football player away from her. His eyes, confused, then a frown came upon his face adding ten years to it. Something along the lines of it's okay, baby left his mouth before he went for her again, but Taliana's second rejection came with her shoving his face away. Silence hung between them, enough silence for the graduate to realize he wasn't getting any, before he left her.

She fell to the floor in a mess of limbs and black dress. Taliana wanted to cry, she really did, but she felt no loss. So what if her boyfriend was sleeping with her best friend? Who was she do to anything about it? If she broke up with Kayden now, Arianna would get her way, and that couldn't happen. The rivalry between to so-called best friends would never end; Taliana just had to figure out what it was that Arianna wanted now.

Taliana stood up, realizing that her senses were coming back far too soon. She made her way downstairs quickly, and before she knew it she had another drink and another college boy following her around. When he tried to make a move on her she swatted him away, and he said some scathing words about her being a tease.

She found herself sitting on the porch crying some time later. In addition to not being able to hold her alcohol, Taliana was a weepy, ditzy, annoying drunk. Alcoholic beverages should be banned from her body, and usually were because she was more prone to lose control. It was a wonder she wasn't table dancing by now, but perhaps her mild depression had caused her to tone it down. Unfortunately she didn't have that pretty, movie star cry. There were tear stains, puffy red eyes, and snot involved. Everyone too involved in their own world moved on.

Until a pale, skinny jean clad boy walked up to her.

"Are you okay?" His voice was soft, with the concern you'd find from anyone genuinely asking such a question. When he received Taliana's half-hearted nod, he sighed. "Do you want to talk about it?" She shook her head. "Do you have a ride home?"

"No." Taliana's voice was small. She looked up from her curtain of curls, meeting brown eyes. She was curled up in her chair now, the skirt she wore revealing more than she would on a normal day.

He shook his head, another sigh escaping his lips. "I'll take you home."


Author's Note: Hey, new story. :) Don't worry! I'll still be updating Woke. It's my main priority at the moment, actually. This is just a fun, side piece I thought you guys would like to see. I'm actually about to start on another new story, since Woke is depressing sometimes... Anyway, I hope you like. Please review. I'd like to know what you think!