untitled prototype 2 (rewritten)

This story was originally written in April 2007, but unfortunately I can't find the original manuscript so I have to retype everything all over again.

It was 10 past midnight, and the two girls were lying in the middle of the street gazing at the stars. Drunk were they, having finished two six-packs of San Miguel Pale Pilsen and four bottles of Cerveza Negra. Indeed they have become beer lovers after learning how to love the drink's bitterness in the span of five years. They started drinking back during their freshman days. Here they were now, drunk, cheeks blushing with intoxication.

'What would be like when we die?' She asked her friend while they were on the asphalt road. 'I bet we will become stars in the sky.'
'Shut up.' The friend retorted. She then faced her and wrapped her arms around her friend, just like a little girl to her stuffed toy. 'Try to think about happy things when you're drunk.'
'I'm not drunk. You are.' The girl talked back, without looking at her. 'I'm not drunk. I'm broken.'

There came silence. Her friend just hugged her tight.

'I'm sorry.' Her friend said, trying to hide her sobs. 'But my heart screams for his name too.'
'And he chose you.' she responded emotionlessly. 'Each living soul is led to follow his heart, in exchange of eternal bliss. I can't blame you, nor can I do the same to him.'
'You know I love you. You're my first ever friend in school. You're more than a sister to me. And you know that.' She remained to hug her even more. 'I know I've hurt you.'
'We are all entitled to get hurt at one time or another, by whoever person. Don't mind me. Follow your heart.'

There was silence, once again.

Her phone then rang, and she read the message in it. 'Hey, it's time for us to go. I've got an appointment early in the morning.' She got up and took her things. Her friend followed and hence after a few more walks they found a cab and rode to their homes. When she got home she sulked weak on a chair, her tears overflowing from her eyes. She has thus forbade herself from loving him. She once believed he was her destiny, the one person finally meant for her. But everything was just an illusion: the nearly carbon copied friendster profiles, their love for Kula Shaker and Beck's Loser, his Goldilocks curls, the laughter and the bottles of beer. He instead pursued her best friend, her one and only friend. And despite the willpower to stay strong and apathetic, she felt robbed, abandoned, broken. She loved him. And she loves him still.

Earlier that day she sent him a message and asked to accompany her for an early morning swim at the nearby park.

'Ok. I'll fetch you at 530AM.' That was the message she received at almost half past midnight.