Somewhere in the back of Emma’s mind, she knew she had gone too far. Emma wasn’t normally one of those people who knew this fact. She would normally just keep drinking, enjoying every moment without a care in the world until she woke up the following day . But as she walked outside in the warm Vegas air, on her way to a bar that Fran and Danni had arranged, she could tell without a doubt that she’d already gone too far. She was dizzy, swaying as she took each step. Unsteady on her feet. Telling herself she would be fine, she followed the others to a cordoned off table inside a plush bar. She wasn’t even sure what hotel they were in. Was she really getting married tomorrow? She couldn’t actually believe the day had arrived. Everything was going so quickly. Time was ticking away, and before she knew it she would be walking down that dreaded aisle.
‘Are you feeling alright?’ Kim asked Emma again. ‘I’m just a bit worried that you’re a little drunk; your eyes are looking a bit bloodshot. Shall I order you a coffee?’ she fretted.
‘Enough about the coffee, Kim.’ Her voice didn’t even sound like her own, but Emma didn’t care. She was fed up with caring all the time. ‘I want alcohol, not coffee,’ she giggled.
Holly scrutinized her. ‘Okay, maybe just a bit of water before the next drink.’ ‘I’m fine,’ Emma repeated, holding up her half-empty glass for Fran to fill it with whatever alcohol she was drinking. Champagne maybe? Her vision was a little off and the lighting was dimmed. Was it Prosecco? She couldn’t tell and didn’t give a damn either way.
There was a rowdy group of men on the table next to them and Emma turned up her nose as she watched them downing pints of beer. Didn’t they have any consideration for anyone else? It was as though they were in their own little world. ‘They’re so loud,’ she complained to the others.
Holly’s gaze flicked over to the table. ‘Maybe it’s a stag do or something.’
‘Whatever it is, they’re so loud I can hardly hear anything else. I can’t even hear what music is playing. It’s annoying,’ she complained. She wouldn’t normally care about it, but she was in an irritable mood and they were bothering her.
When they started banging on the table making even more noise, playing a drinking game, Emma had had enough. Everyone was looking over, but no-one was brave enough to say anything.
‘I’m going over there,’ she announced thunderously, striding over in their direction.
Only one of the men even noticed she was standing there, hand on hips when she reached the table. The others were too busy laughing and talking loudly amongst themselves.
‘You alright, sweetheart?’ He had a British accent.
‘Not really,’ she swayed a little as she shifted on the spot. ‘I’m trying to enjoy a night out over here with my good friends, and we can’t hear each other because you’re so loud.’
She had at least five of them paying attention now, watching her curiously as though she was some incredibly fascinating creature.
One of them shrugged. ‘Sorry. Here, take some shots as an apology,’ he grinned. He raised an eyebrow. ‘You girls enjoying your holiday so far?’
He was being genuinely friendly, and Emma felt ashamed for talking to them so tersely.
‘Yes, we are thanks,’ she cleared her throat. ‘We’re here for a wedding. I’m getting married tomorrow,’ she told them, picking up a red shot from the table and downing it. She grimaced and picked up another one, pink this time.
‘You’re getting married tomorrow?’ A dark-haired man repeated.
Emma nodded, downing the pink shot. ‘Yes, you heard right.’
Another man laughed loudly. ‘You’re not holding back on the drink for someone who is getting married tomorrow, are you? Wow.’
‘I don’t get hangovers,’ she informed him, proudly. ‘I’ll be okay.’
‘She’s enjoying her last day of freedom,’ another said in admiration. ‘Good for you.’
‘Why don’t you girls grab your chairs and come sit with us?’ the dark one chimed in again. ‘You should play the drinking games with us. Boys vs girls.’
Emma was aware she should say ‘no thank you’. But now she was standing there it looked like so much fun and she wanted to enjoy herself and shift her moodiness. The men were friendly and easy to chat to, despite her snippiness when she’d first gone over to them. Before Emma even knew what she was doing, she gesticulated to the others to come over and join her, pulling up chairs around the table.
‘We’re playing drinking games,’ Emma told them, determined to beat the men . She’d always been competitive and even with drinking games, she was no different. Her mind was fudgy from alcohol though, and she didn’t feel like she could focus properly. She certainly wasn’t going to be at her best.
They went round the table introducing themselves before the dark-haired one, who called himself Luke, starting explaining the rules of the game. Emma did her best to concentrate on what he was saying, but the rules didn’t sound as straightforward as she’d hoped. No, in fact, Emma didn’t feel confident that she was going to be on the winning side.
That was the very last thing that Emma remembered before passing out for the entire night.