AN: Living in the Shallows has made it to #350 in Teen Fiction, woohoo! I have to hit the "mature" switch soon (I think what happens on the plane, in all good conscience, would constitute a "mature scene"), which will render it ineligible for ranking, but we've had a good long run, I believe. But maybe we can break the top 300 before that happens, who knows? Thanks, everyone, for reading and voting!!

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When the door of the car opened, the screaming of the people and the photographers was frightening. Wow, this was a serious party. The security guard at the door of the club greeted us with, "Hey, we were wondering when you guys were going to show up. Who's the bird?"

"Hey," Matty said, bristling slightly. "This is no bird, this is our translator, Tinker Bell; you've met her before. It's her birthday today, too."

"Sorry, miss," the security guard said, "I didn't recognize you, you look quite different tonight."

"Thanks," I said with a smile.

"And a happy birthday to you," he added as we entered.

"Matthew, you're going to have to relax a bit," Gethin said to him as we looked around the room.

"What do you mean?" Matty asked.

"Well, Tink looks seriously hot tonight," Gethin said. "Like, on fire hot. She's going to get a lot of attention, and a lot of those kinds of remarks like from the security guard. What are you going to do, Matty? Beat up everyone who notices?"

"If I have to," he said. "Look, just because she looks nice is no reason to let people talk shit about her."

"Don't be silly," I said. "He wasn't 'talking shit' about me; 'bird' just means 'girl', right? I mean, I'm not dressed slutty or anything, right?" I looked around. "I'm dressed more conservatively than ninety percent of the women here. So relax, go get a drink, this is supposed to be fun. Do what you'd regularly do. I've never been to a party like this before, so I'm just going to get a glass of wine and sit at a table and people watch for a while. If I need one of you, I'll come find you or text you or whatever, and if I need to leave, I can catch a cab, unlike you four. You guys don't need to babysit me, okay?" I looked around at their doubtful faces. "OKAY?" They nodded. "Now go! No wait. Ro, Geth, Matty, go. Teddy, get me a glass of wine first, then you go." I shooed them all away and sat down at a little table near the wall.

It was a huge room, with an area for dancing, an open bar with a bartender, a music station with a DJ, and a buffet with some amazing looking food. Only about half the people looked vaguely Asian, and honestly, the party could have been taking place anywhere in the world, from New York City to Santiago. It was gorgeous, sparkling, lit up from floor to ceiling, loud, a complete overload for all of the senses.

Every boy immediately had a cluster of girls around him, and Teddy had to fight to get back to me with my glass of wine; he was accompanied by five or six girls, or women, I should say. At least I assumed they were women. Even Japan had a legal drinking age of twenty, and someone, somewhere must have been enforcing it, right?

I think Teddy wanted to sit down next to me, but the ladies he was with were having none of it. They bore him off in their midst to "have a dance", as they put it, though "have an orgy" seemed to be more what they meant. I looked away after a few minutes because it was kind of sickening to see what they were doing to Teddy, and all the boys, frankly. It surprised me that I was that bothered, okay, jealous, about all the boys, even though by now I'd admitted to myself that Teddy was special to me and I felt things for him I'd never felt for anyone before.

From where I was sitting, even in the dim light, I swore I saw one girl grab Matty's crotch as they were dancing. I felt like I was watching an assault, which was crazy. Matty was a grown man, completely capable of defending himself in a public place from unwanted advances from a woman. Sure enough, within seconds, he had her by the wrist, and had returned her hand to her person, much to her dismay. He waved goodbye to her and turned away. He continued to dance with her friends, but he ignored her from that moment on. That boy could take care of himself.

Ronan suddenly appeared at my table, miraculously girl-free, and asked if I wanted to dance. I drained my wine glass and stood up. He held his hand out to me, and we made our way out to the dance floor. All the boys were great dancers, though they didn't really take advantage of it during their shows; they eschewed the traditional boy band thing of choreographed group dancing in favor of individual movement, but move they could. You didn't see it much with Gethin, as he usually had a guitar strapped to him, but he also had fantastic rhythm.

People were usually surprised to find that I could dance. I guess classical music wasn't something usually associated with the kind of rhythm needed for dancing, but it was a fundamental part of my being, the counting, the syncopation, the feeling of movement needed for music.

So Ronan and I basically went out there and tore it apart. It was wild and it was fun. Ronan smiled and laughed, a new appreciation for me in his eyes, and eventually the other boys came and joined in, all of us dancing in a big group, the four boys and about a dozen girls, all jockeying for position among them.

When the dancing was good like that, it felt like a herd mentality, almost how I imagined a good LSD trip would feel. Your brain just shut down, your body took over and you became a dancing thing, a moving being. I felt like I was moving in a living, breathing, UK Crush, with all four boys around me, like when I was on a really good piano playing high.

I slowly came down when the music ended, very hot and very thirsty. "I need a drink," I said and motioned to Gethin, who nodded and headed off to the bar. I made my way back to my table, and when he appeared with a bottle of water and another glass of wine, I stood up and let him sit, sitting on his lap as I guzzled nearly the entire bottle in one drink.

"You are an incredible dancer," he said into my ear over the sound of the music.

"Thanks, so are you," I responded, putting my arm around his neck.

I lifted my newly short and curlier hair off my neck. "Hot, I'm so hot," I said loudly, trying to fan the back of my neck.

"Yes, you are," he agreed with a smile, blowing on the back of my neck.

I couldn't understand how guys thought that blowing on the back of a girl's neck was going to help cool her down in any way; all it did was get me hotter and more bothered. I put my hand on his freshly shaved jaw and pushed him away with a smile while reaching into my clutch for a hair tie. He turned back for one last blow, giving me a knowing smile and a sexy wink. I shook my head at him, mouthing the words "naughty boy" and shaking my head. Silently asking Mel to forgive me, I ruthlessly tied my hair up in a ponytail. Little short bits immediately came curling out, softening the look, making it look like I'd done it on purpose; tonight was just my lucky night.

The rest of the boys appeared, somehow having shaken off their entourages, pulling up chairs and sitting around the tiny table with bottles of water and drinks, much harder stuff than wine.

"Don't you two look cozy," Teddy commented.

I stared at him. It was unlike him to make that kind of comment. Hmm.

"You guys look adorable like that," Matty said with a smile.

"I totally agree. Let me get a photo," said Ronan, pulling out his phone. He snapped a couple pictures of me with my arm looped around Gethin's neck, his arms around my waist, heads touching, huge smiles.

"Me next, me next," said Ronan, like a child asking for a pony ride. I laughed and sat on his lap, where he pulled me in extremely close, and pictures were snapped while he kissed my cheek and I laughed, because he was tickling me with the hand that didn't show.

Then I moved on to Matty, who put one arm around me and held my other hand in my lap, and put his chin companionably on my shoulder, so our smiling faces were side by side. Honestly, his face was more beautiful by far, his eyes picking up the blue sparkles in my dress perfectly.

I looked at Teddy inquiringly, and he nodded, so I sat on his lap, and he pulled me in, tucking his face familiarly into my neck. I didn't realize until I saw the picture later that it was different from all the others; while Geth, Ro, and Matty were all looking at the camera, Teddy was looking at me, making that photograph seem somehow more intimate, more private.

As the night went on, it got louder and louder. There was eating, more drinking, and it seemed the people in suits were busy making deals in the quiet corners of the room; there were some rowdy moments, when security actually hauled a few people out. I couldn't believe the police didn't come and shut the place down, as I was sure people were doing drugs in the bathrooms and possibly even at the tables. Japan was so strict about drugs that people caught with them at the airport were turned around immediately and never allowed back, ever, yet people at this party were getting high out in the open. Wow.

There were a few foreign guys hitting on me, and by foreign I meant neither Japanese, American, nor English. I couldn't tell exactly where they were from, though their accents sounded vaguely Scandinavian; I'd moved to a barstool for easier access to the alcohol, and they kept trying, like waves washing up on a beach; first one, then another, then another, all with the same accent, all trying to get me drinks at a flipping open bar, for crying out loud. I kept sending them on their way, but nothing seemed to be working. You'd think they'd communicate with each other, let each other know I wasn't up for it, or whatever phrase they were using these days, but apparently something about my outfit or make-up or whatever was giving off a "yes" vibe, because they kept on coming. Aileen the Mouse would have simply left the party, but Tinker Bell the Bitchtastic was a whole new person.

Finally one guy, an oily dude with coiffed black hair, just flat out asked me if I wanted to go back to his hotel with him.

"No thanks," I responded, and turned away.

"You know, I know a guy in the band," he told me persuasively. "I could introduce you to him."

"Oh, really?" I asked. "I heard they were leaving tomorrow morning anyway."

"No, no, that's not true, they've got another week here," he said, putting his hand over mine.

"Hm. Well, which one do you know?" I asked, pulling my hand out from under his.

"The blond one?" Oily Dude suggested.

"Ronan?" I supplied.

"Yeah. We go way back, met in Norway a few years ago," he said, smiling.

I picked up my phone. "Do you mind?" I asked with a smile. "I have to take this."

"Please," he said magnanimously.

"Please come to the bar and act like you're my boyfriend?" I texted Ronan. "Really lay it on thick, okay? This guy's being a total creep."

"Who's being a creep?? On my way!" came the response. Good old Ro.

I turned back to Oily Dude. "All taken care of," I announced with a smile. I took another sip of my drink, which happened to be a margarita at that time. "So, where were we?"

"We were discussing you coming to my hotel room for a bit," he hitched himself a little closer to me. "So what's your name, anyway?"

Finally Ronan rolled up to the bar, exuding confidence and rock-star sex appeal, putting his arms around me and hugging himself to me.

"Here you are! Been looking all over for you!" He kissed the side of my neck, long and slow. Yowza. He was really good at it, too. And he smelled amazing, as usual, and his blond hair tickled my neck. All in all, a great experience. He turned to Oily Dude. "So who's this, then?"

I turned back to Oily Dude. "Sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

"Lars, my name is Lars," he managed.

"This is Lars," I said to Ronan. "Lars, this is Ronan Donohue, but I guess you know that, since you're such good friends and everything?" I put my hand on the back of Ronan's head and turned it toward me, murmuring, "I missed you, you were gone for so long."

Then Ronan surprised the hell out of me by leaning in for a kiss, again, long, slow, and very good. Whoa. He finally pulled away from me, a new awareness in his eyes. We looked at each other, Lars and our performance forgotten for the moment.

"Wow. Happy birthday to me." I let out a big breath.

"You did say to lay it on thick," he said with a grin.

I nodded. "Yes, I did," I agreed. "Thank you."

"I think I should be thanking you," he said. "That was amazing." He put his hands on my waist and pulled himself close to me again. "Maybe we should do it again, maybe what's his name here needs an encore—"

We turned to Lars, but he was gone. We turned back to each other and laughed. Ronan sat on Lars' recently vacated barstool and ordered a drink from the bartender, and we continued to laugh about it.

Shortly after that my beautiful birthday cake came out, to much fanfare and applause. The boys sang to me, in lovely four part harmony, and helped me blow out the candles. It was wonderful, and we got some great pictures of them feeding me strawberries and making a gorgeous mess of it. They gave me another patented and much coveted UK Crush, which, coupled with the alcohol, made my head spin.

I had another margarita and danced some more, this time with Gethin, who used me to get away from a girl who seemed to want nothing more in life than to simulate sex acts with him on the dance floor. She was grinding up against him, back and front, no matter which way he turned, and finally he made a motion to the DJ which apparently meant to play something slow, because the music immediately changed.

Gethin grabbed me by the waist so aggressively he lifted me off my feet, pulling me into his chest. "Whoa, sorry, love!" He slowly lowered me to the ground, but didn't release me. "Just didn't want to risk having to dance the slow number with that one." He jerked his head toward his would be attacker, who was looking toward him covetously.

I heard the new song, "Everything", by Michael Bublé, and tightened my arms around Geth. "I love this song," said, smiling up at him. He smiled back at me, holding me tighter.

"Wonderful, poppet," he said. "Happy birthday."

The song ended, and he was leading me back to the table, when Teddy appeared, holding his arm out, asking, "May I?"

I took his arm and went back out to the dance floor, where the next song was just beginning. It was Mel Carter's classic, "Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me". Swoon, and die.

It was a different experience. The words went inside me, making me come alive, and when he grabbed my hand, pulling it up to his mouth to kiss it, our hands stayed there, joined, next to his collarbone. His other hand was low on my back, fingers spread, and my arm was wrapped tightly around his neck. Even over the music and the noise of the party I could hear his voice in my ear when he whispered, "I really really want to kiss you, Birdie, so much."

I sighed, carried away by the moment, his hot breath in my ear, the movement of our bodies together, the words to the song, just everything, combining to overwhelm me. I lifted my head and stood taller so I could reach him, and I saw the surprise and joy in his gray eyes, as he leaned down toward me.

Then we were kissing, like in the movies, mouths open, tongues touching; he stroked my hair with one hand and pulled me closer to him with the other. "Oh my god," he murmured against my mouth. He kissed me over and over as I wrapped my arms around his head, running my fingers through his hair, oblivious to the fact that we were in the middle of a crowded dance floor, oblivious to everything but us. My body felt as if it was on fire.

Teddy stopped the kiss and leaned his forehead against mine. "Sorry," he gasped. "It was either stop to breathe or die—" He broke off, the beginnings of a smile fading from his face as he stared at something. "Oh no. Oh no. Fuck."

I turned to see what he was looking at. It was Matty, standing stock still, staring at us, looking as if he were made of stone. Gethin was with him, and put a hand on his shoulder, but Matty roughly shook it off. He saw us looking at him and turned and fled, running through the doors we'd entered through only hours before. Gethin took off after him.