Stefan was kind of tired, he didn't want to leave. The crowd was already moving, and as they were overcoming the short distance between the living room and the entrance door, mined with seemingly infinite pairs of shoes in all kinds, colours and sizes, he imagined he was witnessing something similar to a modern dance group performance, each member having their own weird and unique movements, expressions and pace. As he was sitting on the wooden chair nearby the entrance door, and observed this minor spectacle of finishing the last sips of their drinks, talking and laughing to each other, and trying to find the right pair of shoes, he noticed that he actually was quite drunk, a state that he didn't think he would reach that night, and also denied being in to the others, just half an hour ago.
Stefan hasn't been very keen on going out that night, that is anywhere further than the friends apartment, where the whole crowd has spent the evening having fun and doing good amounts of drinking, but their mood always got him, and he liked each one of those laughing, shouting and staggering characters.
It seemed like it took hours for everyone to even get into the entrance room, and still, from time to time, someone escaped into the kitchen, living room or mostly to the bathroom, to get one more beer to go out of the big bathtub, which some hours ago has still been filled with bottles and cans of all kinds of beer and liquor.
Stefan himself had a bottle of beer in his hands, three quarters full, and has been taking a sip from it from time to time for the last five minutes.
"Let's keep this fucking party going", someone shouted in a humorous tone, though nobody would doubt the dedication of this message. "Let's go to the cluub", was the proper answer that soon rung out after, accompanied by a general wave of cheers and laughter.
A short discussion emerged, as the hostess discovered the remnants of what appeared to had been someones attempt to make themselves something to eat during the evening, most probably some kind of breakfast, and their following miserable failure at it. Most of the spilled milk, slices of toast and chocolate cream, that were spread all over the kitchen table and surrounding floor, were soon cleaned up, though the table would stay sticky until the next day, when someone would take the time for a proper cleaning.
The progression of departure was now two-edged, since most of the people actually had found and successfully put on their shoes and jackets, but on the other side a half empty tequila bottle has emerged in someones hand, and now shots were poured in shot glasses for every willing participant.
Stefan joined in, though parts of him regretted that decision soon after. When everyone finished their first, and then second 'let's go' shot, the crowd started leaving the apartment, partly shoulder to shoulder, partly one after another, stumbling drunken over the door sill, everyone found themselves in the big stairwell, Stefan among them, talking and laughing, and zipping up their jackets for the walk to come.
There was Simon, who was way too fucking drunk, and Martin, always cracking some silly jokes, and Sophie the beloved hostess, who was telling people to be fucking quite in the stairwell now, and Sanja, Magdalena, Amir, and also Nina, who had said she would be leaving hours ago, followed by Stefan, and then behind them came Tobi, making out with Jana while trying to put on his jacket, and Paul, Lea and Miro, who were absorbed into what probably only sounded like the most important discussion of the year.
That was the whole gang, well most of it anyway, since not everyone came that night, and some left early already, and to be exact they didn't really call themselves a gang, except for Simon maybe, when he was drunk. But to the outside spectator, they must have appeared to be quite some crowd.
The night was young, and the stairwell was soon overcome, even without the collateral damage of neighbours plants or dropped beer bottles. During the descent, the mood went up, as legendary stories of previous nights were retold like ancient folk memory, and phrases that would only make sense to themselves, where repeated until they blurred into bursts of laughter.
Someone noted they would need to buy cigarettes on the way, and all the smokers in shortage agreed, as the big house entrance door was opened, and the gang, bit by bit, stepped out in the cold air of the winter night. The streets were covered completely with freshly fallen snow, and whoever hadn’t closed their jacket yet, was doing it now, quickly. The last cigarettes were lit, and someone started to throw a snowball, while they were waiting for everyone to arrive outside.
Soon after, a little snowball fight was ongoing, while the smokers finished their cigarettes and the route to the next destination was discussed. Tobi suggested a Taxi, while others preferred to take the last subway. Everyone was talking criss-cross, as Stefan stood there, lost in some thoughts, in what he thought of as a moment of clarity, or maybe just the effect of the cold, fresh air to his drunken brain. Sophie must have noticed his absence, as she was asking:
"Are you alright, Stefan?". He took a while took response, then he said:
"Ahm, yeah, I'm ok. You?". "I'm fantastic! Are you coming with us?". She pointed in the direction to go, as she was saying this, and Stefan followed her finger with his eyes, seeing that the vanguard of the crowd had already started to move, and was some meters ahead, while the rest began to follow. "Sure, I'm in", he answered, and so Sophie, Tobi, and Jana started walking too.
Stefan stayed there, frozen for a moment, leaning against the building. Half of him about to move, half stuck forever. He tried to clear his veiled thoughts.
A warm fuzziness that comes with being with people you like still accompanied him, while his mind was trying to make something out he couldn't quite understand. A feeling of being isolated haunted him, as it sometimes does, and like the crazy shaman of a close tribe of warriors must feel, he had the sensation of being surrounded by a tight-knit circle, while being a loose margin, neither outcast nor part of. But they never did anything to push him away, and even though he would never admit it, he loved them genuinely.
Woken up from his thoughts, he discovered the crowd has already moved ahead a bit, and so he put out his half-smoked cigarette against the old buildings wall, and hurried up.
