@teganhq
A group of twenty-somethings approached her at the diner last week, and their pitch went something like this: it’ll be the last chance this year to listen to stuff other than Christmas songs and church prayers while pretending that everything is going to be alright. So this is how she came to be standing here, a plainly dressed, woman approaching her mid thirties, by a table of plastic cups and cheap liquor in some dimly lit backyard near the edge of town, surrounded by youngsters in all their wanton glory making a last ditch effort at hedonism before they force themselves to surrender. Rosaline felt like she’s been aged down by at least ten years, and not necessarily in the good way.
The party can’t be considered big, nor was it truly so unruly, but it barely took two hours before the ones that requested her presence in the first place to seemingly have forgotten about her existence. Now more than ever, Rosaline felt like a wine mom who showed up to the wrong house, except that she was perfectly sober, and felt neither classy nor particularly keen on contributing any more senses aside from the bare minimum any decent person would be expected to. She would have left an hour ago, weary of the hypnotic tunes, the smell of pot and the way none those around her seemed to really give a shit about partying, but if anything, she was one of the few present who has named it their responsibility to make sure no tragedy will begin here, tonight. Jaded as she was at that moment, she did not intend to break that promise, and so by the make shift bar of refreshments she remained, her attention adrift.
Her gaze laid on a new face, lounging just off the side of the dominant crowd, close enough to her for her to wonder if his attention were briefly on her too. For a moment, there was a sense of tranquility to him that lent him a vaguely picturesque quality under the uncertain lighting. She knew almost immediately he was an outsider, but his sullenness seemed to blend him right in. “Enjoying yourself?” she called out to him with casual apathy, hoping to catch his attention. “Don’t think we’ve met before,” she took a step towards his direction and said with a languid shrug. Something about his foreignness intrigued her, and she wanted to know how he found his way here, or perhaps she’s just mistaken. “I’m Rosaline, a bit too old for this shite but doesn’t look adult enough to not be welcomed I guess.”
“You with anyone?”