AN: Multi-chapter fic. And can somebody talk to me about the series finale? It was vague and something else but I did enjoy it. I've written some parts of this story already, but haven't pieced them all together. I'll update at least once a week thank you for reading

The Night Starts Here

"Where are we going?"

Franky hazily glances around her. No clock is visible, but with the pitch-dark sky hovering above their heads, she can easily tell that it's past two in the morning. It brings into memory, random moments when her dads used to relentlessly tell her that nothing good ever happens after midnight. So she missed all of what's after midnight during her life in Oxford.

But Bristol's different. In the morning all that there is, are shadows of themselves. Nothing meaningful occurs during daylight hours. Everyone's hiding in their own coffins. Afraid that people might catch the real them—the ones who appear after midnight, and their snake-skin's shredded to useless fragments by booze and drugs and heartaches. Or in Franky's case, when she's with someone she's half-convinced she shouldn't be with.

They're standing (though more like struggling to keep themselves on their feet) in the middle of a deserted intersection in one of city's darkest roads near Park Street. For once, Franky's not in her usual get-up: a blazer/oversized-tuxedo or suspenders, and back-combed, gel-slicked hair. Instead, there's an obvious shade of eye-shadow that makes her eyes burst like a glowing sunrise. She looks untamed. Free. And thoroughly fucked up.

It's exactly the way Matty likes it. She's looks almost the same when they met for the first time, and had told her she's beautiful.

(Except now her trembling fingers are gripping his hand, instead of a gun that she had claimed to "shoot bullets")

"I have no idea." Matty says. A couple of cars had passed by them, yelling and cursing them to keep off the road.

"Why?" Why are we here? Why don't you know? Why don't I care that we don't know where we're going? She tugs at his arm when headlights out of no where burn her sight. Matty grabs her by the waist and gently pulls her flush against him. He slightly leans in to kiss her and Franky finds it so easy when she doesn't have to stand on her toes to meet him. It's easy because they don't have to go any further than this.

"Because," he mumbles against her lips, the smell of vodka and smoke intermingling as he speaks. Franky studies his face for a moment—something she wasn't allowed to do when he was still with Liv. His eyes weren't always too overt, as if on the lookout for harm coming his way. Corners of his lips were drawn upwards, suggesting a smile that she rarely sees on him. It's one of the few he secretively carries around when nobody's looking. When he's on the road by himself and no one knows his name.

Franky muses from time to time, when she will be ready for some things she knew Matty wants with her. When she'll feel normal, without risking to fall off a fucking cliff. A part of her feels like something's left missing to make it—whatever this headfuck thing is—work. She can't help but wonder about what happened with Liv. Even though Matty and Liv breaking up was in her favor, she can't help being curious about what went wrong. They were great together, weren't they? Except for that little hang-up— which was a very disconcerted Nick Levan.

Liv and Matty—they were crazy, similar. Gloriously ungrounded and connected in so many ways. They had their time together. What the fuck went wrong? Oh yeah, she happened. And even though Liv had apologized to her, and everyone's best mates during Grace and Rich's "not their wedding" after party, she feels like the bond they made is still infallible and needs to be proven down the line.

But what does she and Matty have—a dark past that they keep running away from? Not to mention a forest and an intimacy gone wrong.

And what are they? At least Matty knew he loved Liv. He told her that in the presence of Franky, more than once. But she can't remember him telling her the same thing. Undefined—that's what they are.

They couldn't even have proper sex. Matty says he's okay with it. He showers her with feather light kisses when she goes rigid every time his hands go further than agreeable, but they don't always work with Franky. In the back of her mind, it's something she needs to fix.

"We'll go wherever…" Matty reaches into his pockets and finds some pennies. "…our bloody wealth takes us."

She laughs at him. "All we've got is ten nuggets. Plus a ciggy you stole from some bloke's ear."

"And some spliff." Matty adds as he lights a stick. He slowly exhales the smokes over her head, careful not blow right into her face.

"And us." Matty doesn't say anything. He just looks at her knowingly. If she's honest to herself, she never seriously considered being with him until he told her that he couldn't stay away from her. She had been positively sure that he'd choose Liv. After all, didn't they fuck each other feverishly in the first place? She'd seen them—watched them do it. While it was simultaneously inappropriate and disgusting, Franky didn't miss the look on his face as Liv rode him.

"Matty, I—"

His tongue delves into her mouth before she can finish her sentence. He doesn't tell her much. But to Franky, this is enough assurance that she doesn't need anything else from him. She releases a sigh she didn't know she'd been holding. Suddenly, Matty pulls away. He moves behind her and wraps his arms around hers. He's gripping her ferociously, like he owns her. No one's ever tried to be possessive of her, so she decides she's okay with it.

"Here's what we'll do," Matty whispers in her hear. "Ever heard of The Libertines?"

"Heard them, seen them. Why?"

"We'll sing 'Music When the Lights Go Out' together, eyes closed. Then we'll keep turning around until we finish the first verse. When we open our eyes, whatever direction we're pointing to, that's where we'll go."

"You're mental. We're fucked enough to get run over by a car!" But Franky closes her eyes and she starts singing the first lines. They imagine it together, with the music playing in the background, so they begin to sway as they go around.

"Is it cruel to be kind not to speak my mind, and to lie to you rather than hurt you,"

"Well I'll confess all of my sins after several large gins but still I'll hide from you, hide what's inside from you,"

Through all of this, Franky couldn't help but wonder if he's done this with Liv. And if he has, are they doing it better? In her head, a voice keeps on screaming mercilessly like a nagging conscience.

He just wants to fuck you, and then fuck you up! But none of this feels like fucking up. Or maybe, this is the good kind of being fucked up, and she couldn't care any less. All she wants to do is relish in this goddamn feeling of euphoria.

"And alarm bells ring, when you say your heart still sings. When you're with me, oh won't you please forgive me."

They can feel each other's smile as they sing together. "I no longer hear the music oh no no no no…"They open their eyes and before them, is the street that would lead them back home.

"Then let's stay fucked together, yeah?" He grabs her hand and they run. As soon as she feels the cold wind on her face, the voice disappears until it is being replaced by one that certainly belongs to her.

No, Mini. You were absolutely wrong about him.

Mini watches with a bored expression, as bodies writhe in endless beat. She used to be the one people watch in utter abandon. Watch her not give a fuck while they wish they could have a piece of her. Tonight though, she's not surrounded by friends. There's no one she could use as a protective wall to hide her insecurities. They think she's all that, but nobody knows Mini couldn't dance by herself. Or be on her own in general. She envies Grace for never having to be alone because of Rich (for fuck's sake they almost got married), and Liv for her lack of fear in being alone. Grace tries so hard to keep the gang together, but deep down, she knows she doesn't really need any of them. After all, she's Grace fucking Violet fucking blood. They were the ones who need her. Mini remembers when Liv bailed out on them and didn't return until the next day. When she arrived, she was already soul mates with some mystery boy, whose name she didn't even know.

"Good." The four-letter word's still ringing in her ear.

She did the right thing, didn't she? She didn't just stood there and watched like everybody else did, when Matty fucked with Franky's head. No, they were too caught up in their own drama too notice how Franky was falling into Matty's trap.

She thought… she thought Franky would listen to her. That when she tells her the truth with conviction and desperation, Franky would just move on. That she'll just forget about Matty. But Mini couldn't blame Franky for ignoring her pleas. She had told her other things in the past, most of them were trash. She knew Franky had already forgiven her for all that, but she doesn't think Franky had also forgotten.

She traces her fingers to the rim of her glass. Somehow, she found herself alone in a club—something she never dare try before.

(But fuck it, she really needs a drink)

So far, she's already turned down three guys tonight. One of them was bloody gorgeous. He was taller and way more attractive than Nick. He had offered to buy her a drink, but she didn't even bother to reply. Pretended she didn't hear him at all.

Now, after she's downed her fourth Stella Artois, she thinks maybe she could use a little distraction. She searches the crowd, hoping that maybe he's still around.

Several seconds passed, someone pokes at her shoulder. She grins mischievously, expecting another candidate for a hookup. She looks over her shoulder.

She's a bit surprised to see Nick. Disheveled and half-trashed. Worse than she'd seen him at the almost-wedding.

"Fancy seeing you by yourself," Nick slurs, putting a heavy hand on her head. Mini wretchedly swats it away.

"Fuck off, Nick. I'm having the worst night."

"Look, Mini, I'm not looking to pick up a fight."

"Then what do you want from me?"

Nick pauses to think. He's way beyond fucked to want anything from anyone. "Maybe you could help me with this, mate?" He shoves a bottle of Absolut right into her face. Mini scrunches her nose in disgust, as the smell of alcohol and sweat descends.

"You fucking idiot. Do you really expect me to help you with anything?"

"Come on, Mins, don't be a twat."

She doesn't bother to come up with a retort. In one swift move she hurls her drink at him.

"Fuck!"

"Look who's the piss-soaked twat now. Tootles!" She gets up and starts walking away. Nick decides to go after her.

Five minutes later, they're dancing.

It's like old times, except it's not. It's platonic, without being boring. Mini concedes, that maybe she misses Nick a little. It seems like such a long time since she had real fun with him. They're both drunk and Nick's high, but maybe it's what they needed to be in order to tolerate being alone together.

With her back to him, Nick's hands are resting lightly on her hips and they sway together. He keeps them their, as another guy sporting a Mohawk haircut comes up to her and starts grinding. It feels good to be wedged like this. This thing—flirting with some tool is just customary for a girl like her, with a demeanor of a fucking model. But there's a vehement churning in her stomach, and the gaze of his fingers on her neck feels like claws digging disturbing in her skin.

She can make this feel right. She should just imagine it's someone else and everything will be fine. Besides, Nick's right behind her. If something goes wrong, she trusts him to kick it off for her. Mini closers her eyes—it's easier that way—and leans into him, mustering all her alcohol-boosted confidence to let go of herself completely.

The stranger's getting pretty much too physical, but she's too fucking ramped to care. Mohawk's hands went for her thighs. Mini shivers when feels it's no longer Nick.

"Get your fucking hands off me you git!" She screams, pushing his smoke-scented body off her.

When she turns around, Nick's not far from where he's slutting it up with some girl's cheap arse.

He catches her eyes before she turns on heels and attempts her second walk out.

"Mins, wait!"

They're already outside when Mini abruptly stops. She waits for him to say something, but there's a flicker of fear in his eyes—like whatever that might come out of his mouth would make things worse. Apparently, some of the booze and the drugs had already worn off judging from his stance and the way his face's starting to look like he gives a fuck.

"You should've known I wasn't just some girl you could fuck with. Unlike those toerags you were snogging inside the club." She's forgiven him, but somehow, it still offends her to see him feel up some girl right in front of her.

"I'm sorry."

"And you say that now?"

Nick presses his lips together. At that very moment, he realizes that he's never apologized to her for sleeping with her best friend. "Maybe it doesn't matter now. But I really am sorry, Mins."

She doesn't say anything. Tilts her head as she takes a long swig of Nick's seemingly bottomless bottle of vodka. Mini never thought about how it's the only thing she'd been waiting to hear from him. To make things better if not well.

"Alright, I'm ready." Mini says as she stumbles forward, hissing at her 5-inch stilettos.

"For what?"

"To try and be friends again. In all fucking honesty."

Nick smiles in response. Not his usual bright, boyish grin that almost reach his ears.- the one he wears quite a lot when they were still together. But they're appropriate for the time being. Maybe someday he'll be able to give Mini that version of his smile again.

"So... you and farm boy are best mates now," Mini says wistfully. "Who would've thought?"

"I guess a lot has changed since... Well, since Franky arrived in town."

Mini detaches herself from the wall clumsily. She curses her shoes one more time and removes them. Now out of her killer heels, she's way shorter than Nick.

"Mins, are you ok?"

She fiddles with the phone in her pocket. No new messages. "I'm fucking great," She vigorously nods her head. "Walk me home?"

Nick takes the bottle from her hands and finishes the rest of it.

"Absobloodylootely."

She's lying in a hay stack when she opens her eyes. Last night's a blur, just like yesterday's and the night before. Matty's gone, but he's left a note saying he's gone out to smoke. It's a habit of his, while other people's first routine in the morning is to take a piss. She crumples the paper into a fist. The mornings were also the same.

Franky checks her messages for the first time since she and Matty left college to go nowhere. Most of her calls where from her dads, angrily demanding where she is and then pleading for her to go home. Her stomach twists into knots. They love her and have never failed to show it, and this is how she repays them. She calls them and feels relieved when the answering machine greets her. She tells them she's sorry and that she's fine.

Other than her fathers, there's one more who has kept on choking her with calls and text messages.

Where are you? - Mini

You're with him aren't you? - Mini

Fucking call me back Franky, or I'll bloody murder you with a pitch fork. We haven't seen you in a week.- Mini

Franky, just let us know you're okay. Grace is worried. And so are the rest of us. - Mini

Mini's slurring in the last one. "Hey babes, where the fuck have you gone? I.." There's a sound of somebody crashing and then she hangs up. There are 13 others left but after the first five, she doesn't think she wants to know the rest. She skips to Grace's calls, smiling softly when she hears to concern in her voice. Franky turns off her phone, as Matty approaches with a bag of bagels in his arm and a box of cigarette in the other.

"Matty, we need to get back tomorrow." Franky says without looking up.

"Why do we have to?"

"I..." Frank searches her thoughts. The truth is they never have to go back to Bristol. Her dads are going to kill Matty if they ever find out she's with him the whole time.

"I have to go back for my fathers."

"Ok. But for how long?"

"Probably until we finish the school year? A month from now, I don't know. I just need to sort out some things."

Matty will understand. He always fucking does and it's killing her every time she purposely takes it for granted. He sits beside her and takes her hand. His palms were enough to comfort her from the cold mid-winter chill.

He murmurs into her ear. "Promise me?"

Franky takes a long breath. Holds it. She wants to be absolutely sure before she locks herself to a promise. But seeing Matty's face start to crumble a bit when it's takes her too long to respond, she gives in. She finally lifts her gaze to meet his.

"Promise."