The Hopes and Triumphs of the Amir Sisters

‘That’s enough, Mae. Get a grip.’

The problem with feeling sorry for yourself was that once you started, it was easy to spiral into despair. No, if she was going to reignite her passion in her studies then the same should be said for her life in general. A video was not going to ruin her or her sense of self. Whatever that self was. So, she rummaged through her wardrobe, got into a short black skirt and white T-shirt, washed her face, brushed her teeth and put on some make-up (feeling like she should look over her shoulder in case someone was watching her), ready to head out.

She put her hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath as she opened the door and stepped into the hallway. It was empty. Mae felt her heart pump faster, along with her breathing. For a moment she wanted to turn right back around and get back into bed, but wouldn’t Bubblee have shaken her by the shoulders and told her to let no man bring you down? So, Mae walked on, out of the doors in her halls of residence and into the outside world. There was a definite sense of spring in the air as she only needed a jacket. With each step she became more resolute and assured. It helped that it was night-time. She walked to The Crypt, the club where all students headed to at night, where she had never gone because she never had anyone to go with. She guessed that there were some things you just had to end up doing alone. It was either that or not do them at all, and that wasn’t exactly life-affirming.

When she got to the club the doorman took one look at her and opened the barrier. There were people dawdling outside, smoking, laughing, in groups and couples, no one paying attention to her or recognising her. She walked into a dimmed arena that was lit with a red hue, lights flashing, Rhianna blaring, crowds and crowds of people and suddenly Mae felt more in command of who she was. There was a comfort in being lost in a crowd. Everyone was so consumed with dancing, laughing and drinking that it helped Mae to shed her layers of self-consciousness.

She walked over to the bar and hesitated, looking at all the alcoholic beverages behind the bar. If Mae were quite honest, life all felt a bit much: never being able to speak to her sisters because of the babies, university, that video. She felt her face flush anew with the shame of it.

No friends.

Not one. Mae wasn’t just lonely, she was alone. The knowledge of it settled in her stomach and chest. There was no one she could talk to, no one to share the misery of her online shame with, no one to even come to a club with. What kind of a loser was she? Why hadn’t anyone told her that being out in the world was hard? That making connections with people was even harder? And yet, she looked around and no one else seemed to be having trouble with it. She stared at the people to her left and right, ordering drinks, laughing with their friends and the desperation to just be one of them gripped her. She had never touched alcohol before but right then, there was nothing she wanted more. How could you crave something that you’d never had?

What would her sisters say? But they weren’t there, were they? Mae had nothing but an empty room to go back to. And knowing that her video was being watched by people even as she sat there. All those comments, all that hate. And no one to share the pain with.

‘What can I get you?’ asked the bartender.

Mae gulped, took a deep breath. ‘I …’

What was she doing? This wasn’t like her. It went against everything her parents had ever taught her.

Her parents, who never even ask about her life at uni. The bartender was staring at her … did he recognise her from the video too?

Before she could find out she blurted: ‘Vodka shot. Please?’

For a moment her heart beat faster, as if the bartender would raise his eyebrows and say, You’re not allowed to drink. By the time she’d had these anxieties the shot of vodka was already in front of her. What if her dad ever found out? What if someone here knew her and reported back to him? She didn’t think she could bear the look of disappointment on his face.

Mae glanced from side to side, unsure of what to do with the drink. Was she meant to just knock it back the way she saw people do it in films? Or was she meant to get salt and a lemon as well? No. She couldn’t do that – she’d feel too ridiculous. At first, she was going to just take a sip, but knew that was also ridiculous. So, Mae took a deep breath, put the shot glass to her mouth – thinking of that creepy guy on the train, the humiliation she was suffering because of him – and knocked it back.

The strength of the shot surprised her, burning down her throat as she coughed and spluttered. She absorbed the weird grainy taste, still spluttering as people looked at her. It took some time to get over the burning as she tried to clear her throat and pretend that this wasn’t the first time she’d ever had a shot of vodka. Was she meant to feel different? She did feel different. She felt quite … pleasant. Who cared if it was a placebo or not? If it meant she didn’t care what people around her were thinking, then it could only be a good thing.

‘Good sir,’ she said to the barman. ‘Another, please.’

So she took another shot, this time prepared for the burning, although the effect of it still surprised her and she coughed again. Her senses seemed to relax, the anxiety that had settled itself in the pit of her stomach had somehow dissipated. Mae wondered why it had been there in the first place. What exactly had been the big deal? Sure, she had no friends, got publicly shamed, random strangers were spending their time taking a dig at her, getting personal – just being mean, Mae thought with disdain. This shouldn’t stop her from doing things, though. She was still her own person, after all. When you’re your own person, what do you do? You be adventurous, that’s what. This time, when Mae asked for another drink, she said to the bartender that she’d take anything he thought she’d enjoy.

‘Maybe some orange juice for you,’ he said.

‘Ugh. You can give me that for breakfast,’ Mae replied.

He looked amused although Mae wasn’t sure why.

‘First time drinking?’

‘How did you know?’ Mae said, looking at him in fascination.

Was there a sign on her head? Did she make it that obvious? Or was he a mind reader?

‘Magic,’ he replied. ‘Here, have this.’

Mae looked at the glass filled with ice and lime and a drink that looked too much like Coke.

‘Are you tricking me? I’m a grown woman, you know. I can handle more than a Coke.’

‘With rum,’ he replied. ‘The special ingredient.’

Mae liked this bartender with his shiny skin, big hair and white teeth. A friendly face.

‘Rum and Coke?’ she repeated with giddiness. She raised the glass to him. ‘Well, cheers to you. Cheers to everyone.’

Mae took a sip and felt her throat burn a little, a pleasant taste of buttery Coke in her mouth.

‘Well done,’ she added to the bartender who nodded to her, smiling. ‘I’ve decided you look like a trustworthy person. Did you know that?’

‘No, but thanks.’

‘More people should have friendly faces like you. Honestly. The world would be a better place.’

Mae took another sip of her drink and felt that the world perhaps was a better place. She turned around to a group of girls next to her and admired one of them who had long blonde hair.

‘God, I wish I had hair like yours,’ she said to her.

The girl looked at her for a moment before she decided to smile. ‘Yours isn’t so bad.’

‘Oh no, it’s short, isn’t it? Yours is like, long. And blonde. Even if I grew mine out it’d never be that colour, you know? Where’s your necklace from? They real pearls?’

The girl laughed. ‘No! They look it? You’re so cute.’

Mae was cute. She was also funny and charming. And she had a brain, which wasn’t always a given when you had cute looks and a personality.

‘Bartender, friend!’ Mae exclaimed. ‘A round of drinks for the girls. Especially my blonde friend, here. Doesn’t she have the best hair you’ve ever seen?’

Mae took the liberty of stroking it as the group of girls Mae had never before met exclaimed how she was the coolest. She could add that to the list of her personal attributes. Each girl in the group stood in front of Mae, waiting to be complimented for something or the other and because Mae was cool, she didn’t fail to find something nice to say. They each hugged her as they trotted off and for a moment Mae wondered why they hadn’t invited her to come along and dance with them.

‘Hit me up with another rum and Coke,’ she said, raising her voice over the din of the music, even though her glass was still three-quarters full.

‘Take it easy. And no need to buy more drinks for people you don’t know.’

‘Ugh, don’t be such a killjoy. And I am easy as they come,’ she replied. ‘Easy-peasy. You know I’m famous, right?’

His response was to raise his eyebrows.

‘Like, famous.’ She nodded, knowingly. ‘That’s right. Not just a cute face. A famous face.’

She raised her glass to him.

‘I mean, don’t get me wrong, there’s good famous and bad famous and I guess if you were to ask, then I’d be bad famous, but you have to take what you get. If you know what I mean. There’s a video,’ she added, leaning forward. ‘Some sexist jerk recorded me putting make-up on, on a train. It’s like, so bloody what? Right?’

‘Right,’ the bartender replied, pushing several shots of vodka towards another group of students.

‘Then he had the nerve to put it on Facebook and it only went viral.’ Mae fiddled with the straw in her drink, staring into space. ‘People can be horrible,’ she mumbled.

The bartender pushed a packet of crisps towards her. ‘Lesson one: don’t drink on an empty stomach.’

‘Sound advice.’ She opened the packet and finished the crisps so quick even he was impressed.

‘Don’t sweat it,’ he said. ‘The video, I mean. Tomorrow it’ll be something else.’

‘Exactly!’ Mae exclaimed.

With which she spun around with her drink and made her way on to the dance floor. She felt her hips swaying to the music before she got enveloped in a crowd of people. Dancing was fun. Why had she never wanted to do this before? Why had she always felt self-conscious at the idea when no one even cared? It was a few minutes later that she felt someone behind her. She turned around and looked up to find a sweaty guy smiling down at her and, for some reason, his hands were on her hips. She shifted slightly but when he didn’t move she thought, well: this is the university experience, isn’t it? That’s what Bubblee was talking about. And Mae was getting some attention. Maybe this guy would turn into her boyfriend? He wasn’t bad to look at, though she supposed she’d have to check that in proper daylight. Whatever he looked like though, right now, this was exciting. So, she let him keep his hands on her hips and they danced. Even when he leaned in closer she didn’t move. It was when she felt something distinctly weird against her hip, as if poking her, that she turned around.

‘I’m Mae,’ she said.

‘Huh?’

‘Mae.’

‘Cool,’ he replied, getting closer.

The blue and purple lights flashed over his thin face.

‘What’s your name?’

He leaned into her. ‘Steve.’

His hot breath against her ear made her queasy and she wasn’t sure why. She put her hand out for him to shake, which he held on to with his own clammy hands.

‘Let me get you another drink,’ he said. ‘What’ll you have?’

Mae looked at her glass that was still half full but what the hell. You had to live a little and Steve might be a bit clammy but he was buying her a drink.

‘Rum and Coke,’ she replied.

He came back ten minutes later, two drinks in hand, and she’d already set her old glass down.

‘You’re a nice guy, Steve.’

‘Thanks,’ he replied. ‘You’re a nice girl.’

‘You think?’

‘Yeah.’

‘How nice?’

‘Hot nice.’

Mae put her arm on his shoulder and looked up at him.

‘You’re hot nice, too,’ she replied.

This was a lie, obviously, but sometimes you had to lie to be nice. Steve’s features were too pointed to be hot. His eyebrows too pale. But it seemed that people weren’t all horrible. There were Steves in the world and she felt so elated to have found this out that, without thinking, she went and kissed him. The first kiss she’d ever had and it felt weird. His wet lips against hers. Was this how it was meant to feel? So sloppy? Then he pushed his tongue into her mouth and it made her giggle.

‘Whoa, easy there, Steve,’ she said, spilling some of her drink as she wiped her mouth.

Before she knew it he was kissing her again, but she liked the feel of his hand on her waist, squeezing it, pulling her towards him. The music seemed to get louder and she heard cheering from one side of the club. Lights flashed faster and brighter and she opened her eyes to see Steve’s own eyes shut tight, his brown hair pasted to his forehead from the sweat. Mae had the uncontrollable urge to laugh.

‘Something funny?’ he said when she couldn’t contain it any more and moved back.

‘Yes,’ she said, laughing. ‘I mean, no, but it is kind of funny, isn’t it?’

‘What?’

He looked serious and she wondered if she’d done something to offend him.

‘Nothing,’ she said, taking a sip of her drink.

‘Have some more,’ he said, tucking his finger into the waist of her skirt and pulling her forward.

So she did. ‘Rum and Coke is good, isn’t it? In fact, I think it might be the best thing I’ve ever had to drink. Like, ever.’

‘Yeah. It’s all right. You wanna get out of here?’

This, to Mae, seemed to be the best idea anyone had ever come up with in the whole world.

‘Yes!’ she said, knocking back most of the remainder of the drink. ‘Let’s get out of here. Woohoo!’ She grabbed Steve’s hand and put her glass down as she danced towards the exit. ‘We are outta here!’ she exclaimed to the doorman. ‘Thank you, of course, for your duty as a bouncer. Godspeed, my man. Godspeed.’

‘You’re wasted,’ said Steve.

His face had got blurry and she felt herself sway on the spot. Mae tried to focus on him. Steve with his brown hair now swept back, his pointy nose and dark eyes.

‘Bloody hell, Steve. I think you’re right.’

Which only made her laugh again because wasted was a bloody funny word.

‘Wasted,’ she repeated, still swaying as he caught hold of her shoulders.

‘Let’s go back to mine. I’ve called an Uber.’

Steve had grabbed her wrist a little too hard and was hurting her, but she didn’t want to be a wet blanket.

‘Yours?’ she said, feeling the urgent need to sit down. ‘Why is everything spinning?’

‘I have that effect on girls,’ he said, holding her wrist tighter, pulling her towards the pavement.

His voice was distorted though and Mae felt she might faint.

‘You all right, love?’ came a voice, but it wasn’t Steve’s.

Then someone shouted. The world got fuzzier and darker as Mae felt Steve release her wrist from his grip. She stumbled and held on to a lamp-post. She wanted to say that she couldn’t focus, that everything was turning to a blur. That she would throw up.

‘Look at her,’ someone shouted.

That’s when Mae fell to the ground and everything went black.

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