Old Friends by Nikita Eaton-Lusignan

Andrea and Carolyn are possessed by alter egos Princess Ariel and Charlie when inebriated - but it has been years since they were both drunk together.

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I landed in the middle of a sweaty dance floor, jerking around to a song I didn't recognize. The dancing lights, pulsing music, and taste of tequila were familiar from a thousand clubs I'd landed in before, but the layout was unfamiliar enough to convince me I was somewhere new. Three girls danced around me, a flash of sequins and limbs and smiles with eyes half-closed. I couldn't recognize any of them. How long had it been?

The music pounded so loud it felt like I couldn't breathe. It was always too much to cope with on arrival. I had to find somewhere quiet, somewhere to think, focus, not sink into the floor.

"I have to pee!" I blurted out. A short girl with straight black bangs and a silver dress nodded enthusiastically, while a freckled red-head's phone lit up a half-smile.

They were too far gone to care what I did. I'd probably never even get their names. I pulled away and walked through the maze of sweaty dancers and frazzled busboys, keeping my eyes peeled for a bathroom sign, getting progressively stickier as syrupy drinks in plastic cups carelessly splashed me. I squeezed between the bodies of newfound lovers and arguing drunks, until I saw the bathroom door glowing like a beacon of privacy. I stepped inside and positioned myself in front of the mirror to look at Andrea and piece together who she'd become.

It was difficult to trace the passage of time on her face. Sometimes a month would take as much toll on her as a year could, and her make up was coated on thick enough to hide the evidence. Her hair was shorter, and there was just a tiny scar where her nose ring had been. No new tattoos, at least no noticeable ones. Her waist was a bit rounder, but not by much. An acquaintance wouldn't have noticed. French manicure on her fingertips; that was new, too. Last time her nails had been covered in chipped gold polish. She was wearing a simple black dress, the kind that only counts as a clubbing dress when you're in a club. That, combined with the flats on her feet, hinted that Andrea didn't spend much time in clubs anymore. Which, good for her.

She was still very recognizable, though. Maybe not as much time had passed as I'd initially thought.

One of the stall doors swung open. I froze. Interacting with humans was not something I was good at, despite many hours of practice. I watched in the mirror as the bathroom stall opened and recognized Andrea's friend, Carolyn.

She hiccuped, and squinted when our eyes met in the mirror. Heavy black eyeliner was smudged under her eyes, and a strap of her slinky blue metallic dress fell carelessly over her shoulder. Almost like...

It had to be.

We stood there, caught, until I heard my name tentatively cross her lips. "Princess Ariel?"

Yes.

I spun around and felt Andrea's lips crack open into a grin. "Charlie? For real?"

"Holy shit! I can't believe it! It's been years. How have you been?" Charlie stumbled over and draped Carolyn's arm around me. His breath smelled of vodka and cigarettes.

"Years? Really?" Carolyn looked pretty much the same, except maybe a few creases on her face. But those always came out when she was worried or thinking, which was most of the time.

Charlie peered into the mirror and fixed the smudged eyeliner. "I'd say so, probably. When was the last time you came out? Was it Cancun?"

"With you guys, yeah. It happened once at Andrea's staff party, but that was just awkward. When I landed, I was crying in a corner, and everyone just kept bringing me water and asking me to lie down. No fun."

He splashed water on Carolyn's face. "At the bank?"

"No, that weird call centre. I think they were selling heated blankets or something."

"Oh, yeah, that was a while ago."

"She's changed jobs?" I shook my head. "Goes to show how much we miss, when we're trapped up there..."

"Barely anyone comes out anymore. Guess the gang's all grown up and responsible now. Except Carolyn. She's still sabotaging her liver for a series of awesome nights which she clearly never remembers, because I'm always the one enduring them."

I played with Andrea's nails, not sure what to say. I'd never met Carolyn - she usually drank so quickly that Charlie came out long before I did - but I knew she and Andrea had been close since they were skipping class together in high school, and if someone Andrea loves is hurting, then I ought to be hurting, too. "Is she doing alright?"

Charlie snorted. "Does it sound like she's doing alright? I wish she'd just fucking talk to me like she did when she was little, but she'd rather drink herself to death, like her daddy. So, whatever."

"That... That's really rough. I mean, I remember she partied hard when we were younger, but... I don't know, I guess I thought she would have outgrown that."

"Turns out alcoholism isn't something you outgrow. These clubs are full of old people feeding their addictions so they can pretend to be young. It's fucking depressing. Can you believe they choose to come here?" Charlie laughed, gesturing at the graffiti-ed walls and the damp toilet paper strewn over the muddy floor.

I shrugged. "It can be fun. For a bit. I like the dancing."

"This whole place smells like piss and vomit. I don't see how you can enjoy it."

"Fine. Let's leave then, if you hate it so much."

Charlie arched Carolyn's drawn-on eyebrows. "To go where?"

"Doesn't matter." I stepped towards the door. Charlie followed, speed walking to the stairs leading down, I assumed, to the street.

I hesitated. "Shouldn't we go say goodbye to everyone first?"

Charlie shrugged. "Nah, we don't owe them that."

Normally I would have argued. I liked to preserve Andrea's social standing when I was out - I figured it was the least I could do. But I didn't have the energy for a fight, so I followed Charlie down the stairs. The way our laughter bounced off the walls made us sound incredibly childish. I liked it.

We got to the coat check booth, where a disgruntled man with a handlebar moustache frowned at us over his phone. Charlie handed in a ticket, and was handed back a waist-length leather jacket and pink floral scarf. He rolled his eyes, then slipped on the jacket, letting the scarf fall to the ground.

I slid Andrea's finger through her black sequined clutch, finding only a ragged $20 bill and a few loose coins. The coat check man sighed and tapped his fingers against a green glitter pen that looked like it belonged to someone else.

"Check your bra?" Charlie suggested.

I scoffed, but poked around under Andrea's dress until I found the elastic band of her bra - a sports bra, nothing she would have worn in the past, not when I was around. Her breasts felt smaller, and slightly deflated. The coat check man's nostrils flared slightly as Andrea's fingers brushed against a damp cardboard ticket. I wrinkled my nose - what was wrong with her?

"Okay. Sorry, here it is." The man took the ticket with the tips of his fingers before handing me a black hoodie and khaki green backpack. I examined the clothes with a frown.

"What's with this?" I asked.

"I don't know. You judging Andrea's clothes now? I mean, look at what Carolyn makes me wear." He squirmed, as though trying to escape the confines of her body.

"No, I don't care, it's just..." I tried to find the words to explain how the outfit made me feel. "This looks nothing like what she would have worn before. And what's the deal with keeping her ticket in her bra? She's got a perfectly decent handbag with her."

Charlie trudged down the stairs. "Watching these girls grow up has proven to me that wisdom really isn't acquired with age."

I followed him. "Yeah, I guess." I traced my finger on the railing on my way down, trying to visualize this girl who wore sweatshirts and flats, and was still, for some reason, in this club with Carolyn. "I had hopes for Andrea, though."

Charlie shrugged. "We all had hopes for our people. They made us."

We stepped onto the street. Fluorescent lights poured into Andrea's eyes until the sea of colours drowned everything else out. I spun around, arms wide open. The breeze was just slightly chilly, and I could feel Andrea's skin tingle. "Where to next?"

Charlie looked down the street and recoiled when a drunk couple stumbled towards him. "I'm a bit over this scene, to be honest. Do you mind if we just go to the harbour?"

"Of course not. That sounds way better. Lead the way."

He gave me a grateful half-smile, and we ducked onto a side street to leave the chaos. Bit by bit, the pulsing beat of the nightclubs was replaced by quiet murmurs and television shows, punctuated by the odd animated conversation on somebody's balcony. It was wild, really, to imagine that these parallel worlds existed just a few blocks from one another. Sometimes existence was more than I could handle.

Charlie shoved Carolyn's fists deep into her coat pockets. "I'm sorry for taking you away from it all. I know you don't get out much, and you don't hate the clubs like I do. It's just... I'm always there. And it's getting real lonely. There's no one to escape with anymore." That had been our thing, escaping together, trying to see as much of the world as we could before the night ended.

"No need to apologize. As you said, I don't get out much anymore, so anything that happens is exciting." Charlie's mood hung over the street, squashing any ambition I had of a fun, carefree time. I scanned the sidewalk for some sort of distraction and paused in front of a large oak. "Like look at that tree. I didn't know they made them that big in the city!" I threw Andrea's arms around it and pressed her face against its trunk, feeling the rough bark leave dents in her cheeks. I could almost feel its pulse.

Charlie smirked and pulled me away. "You're silly. You're like these girls when they were kids. Just drunk on everything."

I laughed. "Those were the years, weren't they?" I skipped from one streetlight circle to the next, as though I could catch the light. Charlie shook his head and kept pace behind me, his sullen demeanour unchanged. It unsettled me enough that I spun around and ran back. "What's wrong?"

He smiled, the same forced half-smile that made Carolyn look bitter beyond her years. "I guess I'm just more jaded than you."

I slowed my pace to match his. "Rough few years?"

"I mean." He laughed. "I'm only ever around when Carolyn's blackout drunk, so I'm not exactly getting the highlights here. Just hanging out in loud clubs with a bunch of strangers who think I'm a degenerate mess. The only part I look forward to any more's the walk home."

I didn't say anything for a moment, afraid the jealousy would poke through my words. I was happy that Andrea wasn't binge-drinking that much anymore, but a part of me longed to be in the world as often as I used to be.

Charlie lit a cigarette. The way the smoke curled out of Carolyn's painted pink lips was enchanting. They both had a knack for glamorizing pain.

I tried to mask my own feelings long enough to be a friend to Charlie. Sometimes it felt like he was my only tether to reality. "If you like the walk home, you should try to make that part last longer. Leave the club early. Screw those people."

Charlie took another drag before answering. "Yeah, you're right. I don't need to stick around. Screw those people." His voice was lower, more gravelly. I wondered if mine was changing too.

"Yeah. I mean, maybe say goodbye first so Carolyn doesn't get a reputation for always disappearing early on. You don't want all her friends to turn on her."

Charlie finished the cigarette and pulled out another. "Fuck it. I don't owe her anything either."

"Well. Only your life."

"What life?" He shouted the last word so loud a woman in one of the apartments lining the street stuck her head out the window to see what was going on.

"Hey." I grabbed Carolyn's hand and pulled Charlie into the shadows. "Indoor voice, okay?"

Charlie pulled away. "We're outside."

"Yeah, but you don't want to get the cops called on us, do you?"

"Honestly? I don't care. Carolyn's the one who'll wake up in a jail cell. Might be a wake-up call for her."

I sighed. "Fine. But I haven't been out in years, and for all I know, this could be my last night. So I'd rather not, you know? So if you want to be a degenerate mess like Carolyn, you'll have to do it alone." I took a couple steps away for dramatic effect and, as I'd predicted, Charlie followed me. I was probably his only tether to reality, too.

"Look, I'm sorry," he muttered. "It's just..."

"Difficult, I know. For all of us, for different reasons. And I haven't been around."

He shook Carolyn's head, keeping her eyes on the pavement. "That's a good thing."

I shrugged. "I mean... It's a thing. Means that right now I have no idea what you're going through."

"It's not much. Nothing worth talking about, even. I'm just being petty and annoyed."

I laughed. "I spent years listening to Andrea be petty and annoyed. Trust me, I've gotten pretty decent at it." For the first time, I wondered what kind of conversations Charlie and Carolyn had when she was a kid. I wondered what Charlie looked like to her. He once told me in his true form he'd be able to breathe fire, but that might have been a lie.

He snorted. "I don't want to be your Andrea." He kicked an empty can down the street, and I gave up. We walked in silence until the widening street triggered something in my memory. I reached for Charlie, bringing him to a stop.

"Hey. I recognize this spot. We're close, aren't we?"

"Yeah. Just a couple blocks away."

I grinned. "Want to run it?"

"In these dumb shoes?"

But I was already gone, pounding my feet against the ground as though I could move fast enough to launch myself into another life, one that didn't rely on Andrea's imagination. Charlie waited a second, then chased me around the corner and towards the breeze. We ran until the sound of Carolyn's heels clacking against the boardwalk rivalled the crashing waves.

The way the city opened into the ocean always made me lose my breath. I'd only ever been here after the clubs were closed and we needed somewhere to be. It was my favourite place I'd seen. I imagined the ocean reaching out to touch every corner of the world.

The wind blew salty droplets on my lips. I turned my gaze up to the few stars competing with the city lights and blinked back tears, grateful that the ocean spray had already dampened Andrea's face. I wondered what she'd think if she knew I was taking her body out for a spin. Probably she'd mostly be surprised I was still around.

I turned to Charlie with a bright smile. "Here we are!" For a moment I pretended this was my body, closing my eyes to fully appreciate the way the wind woke up my skin, the way my legs split into ten separate toes. "Wish we'd been able to grab a drink before leaving."

Charlie whipped a flask out of Carolyn's purse and tossed it to me. "Carolyn's got you covered."

I opened it and took a swig, which almost made me choke. "Is this straight vodka?"

Charlie laughed. "Yup. Bottom shelf."

I shrugged. "Anything to extend the night." I took another swig and grimaced as I swallowed it down. It burned, and the pain felt almost ceremonial.

"Here, let me have some of that." Charlie grabbed the flask from me and took a nice long gulp.

I laughed. "Wow, someone's used to this."

"Yeah. Barely even notice the burning anymore."

"I guess that's admirable."

"In a sense."

"So." I drank a bit more vodka before speaking, trying to keep my face neutral. "What's up with Carolyn?"

Charlie sighed. "I have no fucking clue. All I know is she's been drinking a lot, she brings flasks to the club, and her friend group is constantly changing. I'm here a lot, which means she's almost always blacking out, but she just keeps drinking. Andrea's almost never around anymore. Anyways, she doesn't talk to me anymore, so I guess it's none of my business."

"I guess Andrea doesn't drink as much as she used to. I'm never around anymore." I never understood why alcohol pushed these girls out of their bodies, or why we came out when they got drunk. I'd never really questioned the whole thing. It's remarkable what you can overlook when the alternative is oblivion.

"Yeah. I don't know what the fuck else Carolyn's doing. I mean. I wish she'd just fucking talk to me instead."

"Maybe she's trying to. Sometimes I hear Andrea calling my name, but I can't respond to her. It's like a door's been shut or something. I don't think it's anyone's fault." I've tried so hard to open that door. Sometimes it felt silly to still be hoping.

"Yeah, I don't think Carolyn's even trying. Probably forgot all about me. And you think Andrea didn't shut that door? She may be having regrets but don't forget, she still cut you out. She invented you to keep her company while she needed you, and then, when she grew up and made "real" friends, she banished you to a dark, forgotten corner of her mind. You shouldn't be defending her so much. It's sickening."

I reached for the flask. "I think it's a little more complex than that."

"Only if you want it to be."

"They were just kids when they made us. They needed us."

"You don't get to just make a person and then do nothing about it!" Charlie's voice was getting loud again, with an edge that definitely didn't used to be there. I didn't know how to calm him anymore, so I tried the type of logic that usually worked on Andrea.

"We were there to shape them, so if you're angry at Carolyn, you're actually angry at yourself."

Charlie spun around and frowned at me. "You don't get to say that."

"You could do so much with the time Carolyn gives you if you wanted to. You could set her life up, make her do better. I would give anything for that much time in control of Andrea's body." I felt Andrea's nails digging into her hand.

"Or, counterpoint," Charlie walked to the edge of the boardwalk, and swayed. "I could end it all for her now."

"Charlie." He couldn't. I had to believe Carolyn's survival instinct was stronger than that.

"Give me one good reason not to." Carolyn's golden curls danced in the wind, and I could picture them dragging both her and Charlie to the depths of the ocean before she had the time to wake up. Arguments fired through my mind, none carrying enough weight to keep them ashore. "I want you alive" didn't seem to cut it.

"I don't know. Because Carolyn created you? Because killing her is killing yourself? Because murder is illegal, and ethically fucked up according to basically everyone? And... this might be my last night, and I don't want it to end like this."

Charlie whooped and jumped back. "Just so you know, I never would have done it." He reached into Carolyn's purse. "But I will do this." He took out Carolyn's wallet and hurled it into the ocean, cheering as it splashed. "Take that, bitch!"

I sighed and screwed the lid back on the flask. "Come on, the night's ending. The girls will be back sooner than we think. Want to grab some burritos and watch the sunrise first?"

Charlie gave me a sheepish half-smile. "Yeah, I could go for a burrito."

We swayed together along the boardwalk until I spotted the flickering sign of a burrito shop I'd been to a couple of times. All I wanted, at that point, was an occasion to eat one last sloppy burrito before the lights went out. I ordered my "usual", a black bean burrito I'd had three times that tasted absolutely heavenly, and the blend of flavours threw me back to the early days of Andrea's debauchery. It's nice having something that doesn't change, even if it's just a fast-food burrito.

We chewed in silence while the sky gave in to pastel pinks and purples. I took note of it all: the food, the lights, and the gentle sound of the ocean and, most importantly, Charlie's presence beside me. Carolyn's face finally seemed to loosen up, like it was relieved of some of the evening's angst.

"See, this is all worth it," I whispered. "You just have to let this be enough."

Charlie let out a high-pitched giggle. "What are you talking about?"

I tried to not be annoyed. "Just, you know, eating burritos and watching the sun rise with old friends... It's not that bad. It's even almost good."

"You're being weird, Didi." Charlie hiccuped - but it wasn't Charlie anymore. "You're gonna hate me, but I've already forgotten most of last night."

I looked down at the burrito, and in the morning light it just looked like a dripping mess. "You were pretty out of it," I said quietly. "Want to crash at my place?"

"Yessss. I do. Thanks, Didi. You're such a good friend. I know we never see each other anymore and you probably don't think about me ever, but I think about you a whole lot, and just... you've always been a good friend. Even when no one else would talk to me. You were a good friend. I love you."

"I love you too, Carolyn. You should come over for dinner one of these days. Or something."

She snorted. "Yeah, like that's going to happen." She stood up. "Can we go back to your place? I'm getting sleepy."

"Good idea. It's pretty much morning."

I walked us back to Andrea's apartment, holding a swaying Carolyn with one arm and shoving the rest of my burrito in my mouth with the other. I passed by a few early risers, jogging or walking their dogs. I wondered what it would be like to live among them, to not feel the curtain close as the sun came up.

Luckily, Andrea lived in the same apartment, though she had redecorated to the point of rendering the inside unrecognizable. I tried to shrug off the feeling of intrusion as I let myself in. I laid Carolyn on the couch and brought her a glass of water. She accepted it with half-closed eyes and lipstick already smearing on Andrea's pillow.

"Thanks, Didi. You're a good friend. I don't think I tell you that enough."

"You tell me plenty."

I walked back to the kitchen and chugged two glasses of water myself. I poured a third to bring into the room, along with a couple Tylenols. Even if I couldn't change Andrea's life, I could at least make her morning more comfortable.

Andrea's room clearly belonged to an adult. Her bed was made with matching sheets and pillowcases (she had finally gotten rid of all her stuffed animals, even Pepper, the bedraggled purple duck she'd dragged along well into her twenties), and her papers were stacked neatly on the corner of her desk, under a Little Mermaid agenda. There were no more concert ticket stubs or travel photos lining her walls, only a painting of an enchanted-looking forest and an oval mirror.

I walked over to the desk and rifled through the agenda, finding work meetings, workout sessions, and what appeared to be a date. I tried to picture what Andrea's life looked like now, painfully aware that it was too full for me. I flipped to the following Sunday and, finding it blank, scribbled in lunch with Carolyn, with a note saying to call her to remind her.

Maybe she didn't have Carolyn's number anymore. Maybe one of them would be busy. Maybe they wouldn't meet. Maybe they would, and it wouldn't change anything. But at least I could go to bed knowing I'd tried.

The sun poured into Andrea's bedroom window. I tucked myself in, taking a moment to savour the softness of the sheets beneath me, trying desperately to convince myself that if this was the last thing I felt, it was enough.