The vibrations of the bass music cascade throughout my entire body. It’s a feeling that shouldn’t be pleasant, but strangely, it is. My skin feels wet. My sweat, or someone else’s; I have no idea. It’s a sort of gross thought, but whatever. I’m in what feels like the centre of the universe. All my senses are turned off, caught up in the freedom of moving my body to a DJ set I don’t like, but am too drunk to care.
That is until a tall guy who looks about fifteen years older than me catches my eye. Shit. Definitely not that drunk. I try to dance away absentmindedly. But he seems to take this as an invitation to follow. I reach the bar. The guy saunters up to me. I see in my periphery that he now has one elbow on the bar, leaning with his head cocked towards me.
“Hi,” he drawls. It’s funny how you can tell immediately when a guy is used to getting what he wants. I look over at him. His eyes are glazed over, too shiny, too dark. It’s quite eerie, actually, how inhuman they look. He’s objectively attractive, wearing a suit and tie. His dark hair and minimal facial hair look well-kept.
“Hi,” I respond with a closed-mouth smile.
“I’m Rob,” he says smoothly.
“Sam.”
“So, Sam. Are you a student or something?” I try not to notice how his eyes get bigger, almost hungry, looking at the word “student.” I clear my throat.
“Actually, yes, I am. I study computer tech.”
“Fuck, so you’re really young then. Are you even allowed to be here?” He chuckles, leaning closer to me. The smell of vodka on his breath fills the air. A wave of dread fills my stomach.
“Um- well I”
“SAMANTHA MILES.” Ruby appears beside the man named Rob. Her dark skin glistens. Her small red dress hugs her curves perfectly, and she holds her black heels in one hand. “Girl, I was literally looking everywhere for you. You can’t just leave me on the dance floor like that!”
“Oh, sorry, I—”
“Hi, I’m Rob.” This stranger named Rob interrupts. He is now looking at Ruby. Like, really looking. His eyes are even bigger and darker. Ruby looks him up and down, a shy, pretty smile spreading on her face, and pushes out her hand.
“Ruby,” she says airily, sweetly. He takes her hand. They stand silently for ten seconds, gazing at each other.
“Wanna go dance?” he finally asks. His entire body is completely turned towards Ruby. I feel like I’m watching my least favourite TV show, unhappily glued to the screen.
She pretends to act as if she’s considering it, then takes his arm. “Lead the way, soldier.” He chuckles. She giggles. He leads her away. Before they disappear in the crowd, Ruby turns around and raises her eyebrows playfully at me. I smile back and act out a ‘why-not?’ shrug. She turns back. And they’re gone.
A feeling enters me. It pools down like a thick, dark liquid, filling from my feet up.
I look around. The beat of the music is now giving me a throbbing headache. The two tequila shots I had now feel like they’re mixing unhappily in my stomach. The people around me, once sparkly and beautiful, now look either sober and nervous or drunk and miserable. The floor is sticky and scattered with bottle caps and confetti. Yeah, it’s time to go.
I reach for my phone in my pocket where the picture of my coat number is. It’s not there. Damn it. I search everywhere on me. Nothing. I look back at the club. There are too many people. I already know the phone is gone, and trying to find it would be stupid. As my eyes sweep the room, I catch sight of Ruby and the Rob dude on the dance floor. They’re easy to spot, what with Ruby’s beauty and Rob’s height. They’re kissing aggressively. I turn away. Feeling queasy.
I walk to the coat check lineup. Trying to burn that recent image from my mind. I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around. It’s Lily. The girl who Ruby and I came with. We both met her in Business 101. A usually uptight and quiet girl. She’s plastered now. Basically falling onto me.
“Lily! Are you ok?” I try to hold her up a bit.
“Yeah, Yeah. Um. Where’s Ruby?” She slurs out.
“Not sure. I think on the dance floor.” She looks at me like she doesn’t know who I am. Jesus she is out of it.
“Actually, Lily, I think I’m going to leave if you—” Without a word, Lily brushes past me and moves towards the dance floor. That gross dark liquid rises.
“Hello.” A bored-sounding voice drawls from behind me. It’s the coat-check lady. I’m at the front of the line.
“Oh, sorry. I’m sorry, but I think I lost my phone where my coat number was. Can I just grab it? It’s the black leather one.” I’m trying to make my words sound concise and not slurred. The lady behind the desk looks at me coldly.
“There are about a hundred black leather jackets in there,” she says.
“Shoot, okay. The thing is, my wallet is in there, so I’d have to walk home if I didn’t have it. Can you please just take a quick look? It has a pink tag on the inside.” I try not to sound too desperate, too pathetic.
“Sorry, nope,” she says flatly, already looking past me. The person next in line pushes up behind me to the counter. The girl hands her coat number to the coat check lady and happily pulls her black leather jacket on once it’s handed to her. God we’re all the same aren’t we?
The music gets louder—if that is even possible. The air suddenly feels overwhelmingly stuffy and smells strongly of B.O. and vomit. I feel my face growing hot. I walk out the front door without looking back.
The fresh air hits me like a truck. I vomit into the bushes beside me. I hear groans and a squeal of disgust. Someone hands me water. I’m guessing the bouncer. I rinse my mouth and notice that it is raining. Amazing. I sit up and push my legs past the line leading into the club. Eyes look me over. The way eyes do outside a club. Questioning and judging all at once. I stare straight ahead, feeling oddly numb and a little drunk but mostly sad. The rain immediately soaks my light-wash jeans. My sage green off-shoulder top pastes itself to my skin. At least I opted for the loafers and not heels.
My feet take me away from the club. My body seems to respond faster than my brain. They carry me off the crowded streets where all the bars and clubs sit. Where all the lights, music, perfume, and hair gel mingle. Talking. Laughing. Trying to be witty, trying to be attractive. Trying to be nice but not too nice, trying to be young but not too young. Trying. Always trying. And can I blame it all? I was doing the exact same thing. It’s what we’re supposed to do, isn’t it? But now I hate it all. The stupid fucking show we all put on. The feeling of emptiness always returning after the lights go out and the thoughts return. Youth. All at once confusing and exhilarating. Searching. Running. My legs start moving faster. Faster and faster. My lungs ache. But I can’t really feel anything else. I’m so tired of looking for something that I can’t even name. Petrified that it doesn’t exist. The rain is pounding down, blurring my vision. It feels nice. To disappear in this way. In the rain. So loud, I can’t even hear my breath.
I finally stop and almost buckle over because it feels like I may be having a heart attack. I gasp in the damp night air, hands on my hips, trying to calm my breath, slowly breathing in and out. Eventually, my breath normalizes, and my heart doesn’t feel ready to explode.
I start laughing. At the situation, but mostly at myself. At how goddamn dramatic I am. Another drunk girl, feeling like the centre of the universe, like the world is out to get her, running home in the rain.
I breathe in another deep breath. I look around, thankfully recognizing where my legs have taken me. At least it won’t take me long to get home. I’m in a good neighbourhood. Not downtown. Still, I have the pepper spray Ruby gave me 5 months ago in my wallet. Or do I? That’s right. All my shit is still at the club. My phone is lost or stolen, and my wallet and jacket remain guarded by the mean coat check lady who is overworked and tired of dealing with drunk college students and their black leather jackets. It’s all so stupid. I start laughing again.
As I try to calm myself down, I look up to see the moon staring back. She is dazzling and seems to be taking up the whole sky. Impossibly big. It must be a full moon tonight. As I walk, she follows, peeking through the buildings and street trees. I begin to notice how, although it is 2 am, it isn’t dark at all. There’s a soft, silvery light over everything. Making it all seem like I’m a child again and living in a fairytale. It oddly feels comforting, sort of nostalgic, like the moon is a long-time friend who is now helping me get home.
I find walking alone in the middle of the night an incredibly soothing experience, although everything about it feels like it should be terrifying. It feels both right and wrong. Like I’m being let in on a secret I’m not supposed to know. A certain magic that only hums in the darkness. A magic that, I believe, has been kept from young girls for too long. I tend to walk alone at night often. Much to my mother’s dismay. Well, if she knew about it. Which she doesn’t.
I find myself wandering the busy and quiet streets when I can’t sleep or my mind is too loud, soaking in the vibrancy and cinematic aura that is the city in the nighttime. Looking through the windows of restaurants and bars, the golden lighting creating a halo of warmth around the buildings, making the windows look like a film screen and us the audience. The narrow streets with the quant brick houses. Green, red, yellow, brown. Crystal windchimes playing a lullaby on someone’s porch. A dog barking. TV screens in living rooms or the smell of oil and garlic heating up on a stove. Laughter coming from a party on a patio. It all makes me feel comforted and lonely. Held and locked out. Little details that remind me of all the complexity and simplicity.
That dark liquid feeling in my body. It’s still there. It is a horrible feeling. I see Rob, whom I didn’t even like, shift his attention immediately to Ruby. I see Ruby, forgetting my existence, as soon as Rob begins to speak. I see Lily walk past me wordlessly toward Ruby. It was simply a series of unfortunate events. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to mean that nobody wants me or that I’m only seen as the best possible option before the next better thing arrives. And they always seem to arrive.
I find, rather surprisingly, that I’m in front of the park now. The one close to my apartment. Should I enter a park at night alone? No. But will I? Yes. For a moment, all I want to be is by the trees. Just a moment.
It’s a small park. A grass field, a thin concrete walkway that weaves through the tall oak trees. It’s quiet. I notice that the moon’s pale glow magnifies the details of the park even more than the sunlight. I walk to the bench where I always sit. The one in front of the huge willow tree.
Walking up to the wooden bench, I see a small grey plaque nailed to the back.
“In loving memory of Peter Williams. A loving father/husband/ and grandfather who enjoyed nothing more than being in the presence of this willow tree.”
How had I never noticed that before? I’d only sat on this bench a hundred times. It must have been the moonlight that caught the glint of the hidden plaque.
I sit on the bench and get the eery yet welcome feeling that Peter is beside me. Hey, at least I’m not alone, right?
And there, in front of me, stands the willow tree—the one I guess both Peter and I like. The tree’s mere presence already eases away the building knot of strangeness this night has been. Everything is silent except for the gentle breeze moving through the leaves—a chorus of whooshing and whistling rising and falling. Watching the long and feathery willow branches feels like witnessing a dance—a slow, loving waltz.
“I’m tired of being young,” I speak out loud to no one. Maybe Peter. Maybe the moon or the willow tree. “I don’t think I’m very good at it.” And then I start to cry, not really knowing why. The wind seems to pick up. The trees move louder around me.
Although I am alone, I feel very held by it all. What do they call it? The universe. Oh yes. The universe. That little guy who I tend to forget about. It must be the trees and the wind and Peter and the moon. It all feels very safe. Tender darkness envelops me. Replacing the gross dark liquid entirely. I let the tears flow freely, happily even. It is all going to be ok. You are going to be ok.
I take one final deep breath and then lift myself from the bench. It’s time to go home, time to sleep.
I find myself smiling as I leave the park, the moon following me, the trees waving goodbye.