Good vibes, you meekly, merely, peered at me via the gaps in human bodies. She was sitting on your lap, first incident I hugged her, eyes hidden from your eyes by gorgeous scented lengths.
Shit vibes. I have no one to talk to, the cruisers have no effect, I’m not dumb enough to /trinke/ from the Malibu’s and other obscurely named hard liqueurs on account of the drug famed drinking straight out of the bottle. Alex pours me a Smirnoff and demands to spar.
Good vibes, I’ve recognised Lachlan and his gang, he invites me with smiling eyes and his always-smile. Keanu is wearing lipstick, when I enquire it is an inside joke, they all laugh with, and at me, me with hand on hip standing over their seated, lean forms. I hope and pray I look good from above. We recover a half bottle of Smirnoff and chase it down pretty quickly, pretty quickly Devin is bored and asks for the cigarettes Danielle’s hidden in her dress.
Interesting vibe, I’ve never been with teenage smokers. Lachlan shares the stick, sitting on my right, with Devin, left. They offer it to me. I sit, I hope in a nonchalant-yet-mysterious-yet-beautiful way, and decline. They lightly pressure me. I still decline, and they continue to pass it across me, and I feel a triumph.
Good vibe, everyone’s left me, the Filo boys are now seated opposite me, and having spotted me alone, you come and talk to me. For the first time in eternity, I become once again the direct and estranged recipient of your voice. You start to talk about her. Of course. I quickly offer a disclaimer about how I’ve already drank, you cannot regard anything that comes out of my mouth.
Great vibes, it’s dark now, Liam’s joined us, we’re sitting in the corner and it’s just like old times, sans her. We talk about her.
And so the night drags on, as if time itself were restless, and reckless, so that it warped lengthily through tears but lightening quick through importance and decisions. An endless loop of consoling you, trying to distract you, asking you what would make it better.
Liam goes home, shittest vibes ever. You never tell me directly once to leave your side, and so we remain in the darkest corner, the one behind the gates that lead to the brightest street. It is once again like before, but this time, in real life. Your tears abundant, mine discreet and unnoticed by you.
You were so selfish, you never once asked about me. It was not even a friendship, it was a needing, a need for consolation but not a want to console me.
I woke up in a pissed vibe. I wonder
what the night would have been like if I’d spent it promiscuously like Danielle, with the promiscuous like Tiffany and the Filo's. Would you have also called me a slut and party whore and hated me? A fuckfree, debauched, licentious night.
Instead I wake at 8, with no dance still remaining in my bones, no grace nor faux love to delicately pluck from my memories.
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