On the evening of the 11th of June 2010, Edie and Frida went to a party in an apartment close to the city. That one party would change their lives forever.
The cold, evening wind whipped their faces as they listened to the dull thump of music coming from the apartment building. The two tall, slim girls waited for someone to answer the door. Edie leaned forward to press the doorbell again. The buzz was barely audible over the noise. Frida was adjusting her dress when the door flew open and revealed a man no older than the girls, standing in the doorway.
"Edie and ...?" he shouted above the noise.
"This is Frida" Edie shouted back. "Is Blaine here yet?"
Frida looked up at the man. He was slightly taller than Frida and was kinda chubby as well. His hair was not short but it wasn’t long either and it curled up at the bottom of his ears. He looked down at the girls with bloodshot blue eyes.
"Yeah" replied the man. “I think I saw him chatting up some girl"
Edie lips tightened and her eyebrows furrowed.
"That'd be right..." she snarled.
"Lighten up, sunshine. I was only kidding" He stepped back to let the girls inside.
"Ahuh" mumbled Edie as she stepped through the door. "Oh, Frida, this is the Stig, Stig, this is Frida!"
"Hello!" said Frida, she waved nervously. New places frightened her, as did alot of other things, like needles, bugs and the smell of hospitals. She stepped into the stuffy, crowded room.
"Hey!" smiled the Stig as her looked her up and down. She was wearing a large, black coat which reminded her of a toy soldiers coat and a pair of ballet flats with tiny flowers glued all over them.
"So, do you live here by yourself?!" Frida asked.
"Nah, I live with a couple of other people!"
"Oh, sounds fun!" She replied, elbowing him in the ribs. He was wearing a shirt that said 'it's only illegal if you get caught'. "Hehe", she chortled, "I like your shirt!"
"Thanks, I picked it myself. Can I get you a drink?!" asked the Stig.
"Uh, yes please!" replied Frida.
The Stig beetled off, leaving Frida by herself amongst the mass of people. She coughed. The air was full of smoke and it was making her kind of dizzy. She made her way through the crowd and bounced onto the couch next to a couple who were making out. She positioned herself away from the couple and took in her surroundings.
The room was dimly lit by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling and a lamp in the corner which someone had thrown a scarf over, giving the room an orange glow. The paint was a faded yellow colour and was peeling in places. She could just see Edie through a doorway in the kitchen. She had a sponge and was hastily trying to wash what seemed to be red wine of her new flowing, white party dress. Blaine was standing behind her mouthing apologies and holding an empty glass. The room was full of mostly unfamiliar people, but now and then she would see someone she knew, like Paul, who towered above everyone else. Paul was big and strong and Edie and Frida always felt safe in his presence. Frida waved at him across the room but he was far too busy to notice her.
"Sorry" yelled Stig over the noise. "All we have left is beer!"
"That's okay!" Frida yelled back.
She took a sip of the bottle. Frida loved drinking things out of glass bottles. It made her feel like she was out of a movie. She looked over at the kitchen doorway. Edie and Blaine were no longer there. They had probably wondered off somewhere alone together. The Stig sat down beside her.
”You are quite pretty aren’t you?” said The Stig.
Frida choked on a mouthful of beer.
”Yeah, sure,” she coughed.
The Stig and Frida kept shouting out conversation at each other until the loud music became too much.
“Come on,” yelled The Stig, “Let’s go somewhere quieter!”
Frida somewhat agreed with him even though her head told her it wouldn’t be good. She had seen way too many cop shows. The same thing always happens. A young girl meets a guy at a party, he asks her if she wants to get away from all the people and then he rapes her. Usually, Frida would have rejected the offer and just hang out near Paul the whole night. She didn’t know if it was the beer that had clouded her judgment or The Stig’s endless cheap flattery but she found herself agreeing with him.
The Stig grabbed her hand and pulled her through the tight-knit crowd, pushing people out of his way. They passed the kitchen where Edie and Blaine were last seen and went down a hallway. There were cups and cans all over the floor and a wasted man sitting in the doorway of a room sobbing. They passed the bathroom, where a faint stench of vomit wafted out and a trashy looking girl stumbled out of the doorway, wiping her face. They eventually came to the end of the hallway, looking at the last door on the left. Frida sensed that she would have to go behind that door. The Stig opened the door a crack and Frida gulped down the last of her beer and dropped it onto the carpet where it rolled away from her and into the awaiting room. The Stig opened the door wider. The room was exceptionally dim until the light from the hallway spilled in and crept over the room. Edie looked up at Frida who was standing in the doorway. Edie’s pupils were tiny, so tiny Frida could hardly see them. More light filled the room, exposing Blaine, beside her, smoking what seemed to be a joint. He passed it onto a guy next to him who Frida had never met. Frida stared wide-eyed at the scene before her, she couldn’t close her eyes. She stepped into the smoky room. The Stig followed her in and shut the door behind him. Her eyes adjusted to the light and she could make out the four figures in the room.
“Sweetpea?” called out Edie.
Frida could hear the faint thumping of the music in the living room.
“Would you mind turning on the lamp behind you?” asked Edie.
Frida fumbled about in the dark until she came upon a switch. She turned it on and an old, cheap lamp flickered on.
Edie, Blaine and the other guy burst out into laughter.
”What’s so funny?” asked Frida, who was slightly alarmed at their reactions to a light being turned on.
“Your FACE!” squealed Blaine in delight. They were now rolling around on the floor laughing. The room was bare except for a large mattress in the centre of the room and a hefty sized cupboard in the corner. The carpet was stained and the walls were moldy and peeling. There were an array of objects thrown across the room including a lighter and a bra, which Frida assumed was Edie’s.
“My bra is…” Edie trailed off, and then burst into peels of laughter.
“Don’t hog it all!” said The Stig, reaching for the tiny, burning joint.
He grabbed it out of the guy’s hands and sucked in on it. He exhaled deeply and a cloud of smoke tumbled out of his mouth. The Stig sighed and smiled. He passed it to Frida.
She sat there awkwardly, watching it burn. She had never done drugs before. It was always for the adventurous, the cool, both things that Frida was not. Her mother’s faint voice echoed in her mind and suddenly her mind was flooded with memory.
A teenaged Frida is leaning against a wall, waiting for her mother to give her the keys to the family car. This was the party she had been waiting for all week. Her high school crush had finally asked her to one of his famous parties. She had heard so much about them and finally she had become cool enough to be invited. Well, not so cool that he himself would invite her. He got one of his stupider followers to do it. But still, an invite is an invite right? Her mother was rummaging about in the bottom of her handbag. Frida wish she would hurry up, she definitely didn’t want to be late. But maybe she should be late, I mean, it’s always fashionable to be late to cool parties’ right? She looked at herself in the full length mirror Frida’s mother kept in the lounge room. She was wearing the coolest outfit of all time, denim overall dress with sneakers. Frida loved the 90’s. The fashion was so hip.
“Here are the keys” sighed Frida’s mother.
“Finally” said Frida, rolling her eyes.
”Don’t you sass me, girl! Otherwise you won’t be going to this part-ay of ours!”
“Whatever” Frida groaned.
”Now, be home before midnight and don’t drink. Oh, and don’t do drugs!”
Her mother’s last sentence echoed through her mind.
”Oh well”, she said. “There’s a first for everything!”
“Or like 21st!” giggled Edie and the whole room fell over laughing.
“The Stig was just continually cracking onto Frida all that night. Not that there was anything wrong with that – Frida looked stunning- but it was just the way he did it that made me cringe. He was just so sleazy. She went for it though. She must have been really stoned.”
-Max (personal friend)
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