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Lucy coughed, shaking her head. “You’ve got to stop beating yourself up about what they did. Better you find out that he’s a wanker with a wandering eye, and she’s a deceitful prick tease. By all means, rage away. I would.”

“No, no raging.” Freddie crinkled his nose at Lucy, reclaiming his pint. “I think Lex should accept his apology and move on. Being angry, stewing over what happened? Don’t. Grudges cause wrinkles—scientific fact. And ulcers. It’s not pretty, any way you slice it.”

“Seriously, Freddie?” Lucy’s curls bounced against her shoulders with each shake of her head. “She shouldn’t accept his apology. He’s a pig and—”

Alex jumped in, holding up her drink. “All I want to do right now is get drunk. Become numb.” She scrunched into her chair and swallowed the remaining liquid in her glass.

“Fair enough.” Freddie shrugged. “I do think it says a lot how he came all that way to make peace with you. That’s a pretty expensive apology. You’d only do that if you still loved the person…”

Alex buried her face in her hand.

Lucy scowled, smacking his arm. “Not helping!”

“Just saying.” Freddie winced.

Mark weaved through a cluster of theatregoers and placed a tray of drinks on the small table in front of his friends. “Get these down you. Final round before I cash out my shift.” His eyes took in Alex, then shifted to Lucy. “What’s on tap for this evening?”

“We should stop somewhere for a bite.” Lucy glanced sideways at Alex, who tossed back her second drink, downing it in two gulps.

The blonde coughed and clasped her throat. “I don’t need food, just another one of these.”

Her three friends exchanged wide-eyed looks.

Lucy mumbled to the guys. “The booze isn’t helping. She’s a small thing. She can’t keep this up.”

Mark brushed Alex’s shoulder. “I haven’t eaten all day. Share a pizza with me? I won’t take no for an answer.”

“And then dancing, yeah?” Freddie winked at Lucy. “Good music, throwing some sweaty shapes on the dance floor…”

• • •

“I love the name of this place—Zippers. It’s soooo funny!” Alex hiccupped between giggles and slurped another JD and Coke.

“Gay clubs have the best names. I’m glad you approve. And I’m happy you’re dancing up a storm, not sobbing in the bogs.” Freddie shouted over Donna Summer’s I Feel Love.

Alex looped her arm around his neck, forcing him to hunch over. “The music’s so good. It’s just like the disco playlist Robbie made me a few summers ago.”

The DJ mixed into You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real) by Sylvester, its beats taking control of Alex’s hips. “Oh my God. I love this song! Robbie used to play it all the time.” She shoved her empty glass into Freddie’s hand and squeezed past an army of fit looking men, taking her place in the centre of the dance floor.

Freddie sat back down in their booth. “Do you think there’s a chance her brother might be gay? I mean, his choice in tunes? Think about it.”

Lucy rolled her eyes and yelled to Freddie. “She should’ve eaten more than one slice. She’s out of control.”

“Aw, bless. She needs this. Let her sweat it out. Look, they adore her,” shouted Freddie.

Alex fluttered her skirt and grinded against two shirtless guys with glistening six-packs. Strobing lights lit up the trio in pulsating splashes of gold, blue, and red.

“I’ll keep an eye on her.” Mark laughed and knocked back a shot of sambuca. He slipped through the flailing arms and gyrating bodies on the dance floor.

“And I’ll get more drinks in.” Freddie bounced to his feet and around a group of guys in leather gear.

“Not for Lex…or me,” Lucy shouted, guarding their booth.

Mark zigzagged his way to Alex, but found himself sandwiched between two well-groomed men wearing dark skinny jeans and black shirts unbuttoned to their waists.

“Alex,” he hollered. “All right?”

“Mark!” She laughed with eyelids at half-mast and flung her arms around his neck.