One bright morning
After spending a whole night in the club, drinking and dancing yourself to the oblivion, you would either expect to find yourself in some stranger’s bed or with a hangover the size of Mt. Olympus.
The image of clubbing culture has been painted such in our minds that the first thing that comes into our minds, at the mention of clubs, are sweaty people all dressed up grinding on each other, drenched inside out in alcohol.
Partying or clubbing is a way to rewind for many people, a medium to relax and enjoy. However, I have always found clubs to be too stuffy and flashy. Even after working in a club for over two years, my opinion on this has not changed a bit. It is not the fact that I do not feel comfortable in the club scene… but the fact that I do not feel anything, they seem to be so much work and exhausts me out even more so than I was while walking into them.
Which is why I’ve always avoided clubs, parties and such, but who can escape the clutches of an overexcited best friend, who is dead set on celebrating and literally looks for any way or excuse to do so.
Although I am not opposed to celebrating and rejoicing, for these are the little moments we steal away from the mundane adult lives we all live. But what my heart and mind don’t get on board with is the part where celebration becomes equal to clubbing for Katty and I am to tag along enthusiastically, or even unwillingly for who am I to say no to a demanding Katty after all.
Even though Katty could be demanding and extremely stubborn but it doesn’t take much to convince me anyhow, I’ve long given up denying her much… especially when she asks to go clubbing or such. It may also be the fact that it is not much she asks for, she has always been undeniably understanding and supportive, despite her sudden episodes of turning into a high schooler who was just recently introduced to the nightlife and club culture.
But it was not the fact that I don’t like the club scene much which resulted in me feeling last night as more of a chore than the celebrations. Rather they were my own thoughts that kept my mind and heart occupied.
First, the little boy by the elevators, and his unfamiliarly familiar eyes, that suddenly sent me back to the deep dark abyss of hell, otherwise named my past. The eyes so blue, face so innocent… yet the one that held such deep pain, no kid his age should even know about. I didn’t know what was it about him that suddenly he transformed into the little kid on my father’s desk from years ago. For a moment I struggled to even so much as breathe, but I somehow willed my legs to move and ran out of the office in search of a way to escape. Having a breakdown is never good or easy, but having one of this magnitude was something I had almost forgotten now. It felt as if death would be much better and safer than going through it. The air escaped my lungs at a rate unbelievable to humans but somehow the air in the atmosphere seemed adamant to not grace my lungs whatsoever. The land under my legs seemed to have suddenly turn into a rabbit hole, taking me with itself to great, dark depths. Despair rolling off of me in waves so tangible, even the lampost beside me on the bench at pavement I was slumped on, would be able to feel.
It felt as if I have been battling to gain control over my body back for decades, but must have been relatively less time for when my breath finally returned back to the point of resembling as if I had just jogged a mile, it was still light and time seemed to somewhere around 5:45 pm.
My eyes shot up and roamed around checking to make sure if there have been any witnesses to my momentary lapse of control over my own body. Thankfully finding none, I quickly shot to my still unsteady legs, walking two steps to stand by the curb so I could hail a taxi.
It was only when I found myself settled on the back seat of the small black hired car, maneuvering in the traffic towards my house, that I finally relaxed. It was only then that my mind was suddenly hit by the realization that I have just had such an episode only because of a child’s blue eyes. The familiarity in colour of both kids’ eyes was just a coincidence I know, I understand that although it triggered my attack, I am also aware that I am in fact finally safe and no harm of that kind is actually going to come my way now given the conditions.
All throughout the forty-five minutes of travel, my mind kept on going over things, facts and memories… analysing them, trying to find a possible reason for my recent sudden breakdown. It was as if my mind has gone on autopilot, just as it always does in such situations. But even after so much of brainstorming, I could no possible explanation rather than the fact that I am more susceptible to such occurrences during this time of the year when the death anniversary of my mother is around.
So, by the time I was to step out of the black taxi, I was already determined to let go and never think of this breakdown and the little kid by the elevators anymore. Moreover, what good will it do to even be hung up on a kid’s eyes just because they are strangely similar to the ones that bring memories and pain I’d much rather forget.
So, with a smile on my face and finally relaxed breathing and heart, I made my way up after paying the driver.
But as soon as I reached my doorstep, the singular key separated from bunch and held out in my hand, about to unlock the door, when the door itself swung open. Jolting me to the point of a miniature heart attack, but that subsided too as Katty suddenly appeared in my line of vision. Her small hand latching on my wrist, pulling me inside with the amount of force that people her size should never possess.
Within a matter of seconds, I found myself thrown carelessly on to my bed by Katty who is yet to speak even so much as a hello to me, which is something that stunned me. However, showing up at my house in such times, with plans of getting ready together, without even informing me is exactly what I expect from my lovely best friend, hence, no surprises there.
Adjusting myself to a sitting position, my eyes turned to Katty as I finally slipped the strap of my office bag from my shoulder, letting it fall on the bed beside me.
It was then that I actually noticed why she was so uncharacteristically quiet when my eyes landed on the clay mask she was hurriedly trying to remove. After all, she even smacks me, if I try to so much as open my mouth or rather move any muscle while using any face mask while shouting about how I’ll get wrinkles doings so. Of course, there is no way that she’ll speak anything in such a condition. This brought out a small soft chuckle from me, as I spoke up first.
“Hey bestie! Stealing my home again aren’t you?!”
“Oh hush child! I know you’ll turn up to the club in pyjamas if left you to fend for yourself. Which is why we are gonna get ready together.” - she spoke finally with a clear face, her eyes twinkling with excitement.
“Ugh!! But now you’ll dress me up in a super uncomfortable, clingy and tight death contraption which will gradually murder me over the night! Why must you do this to me always!?” - I whined, dramatically throwing myself face into the mattress.
“Oh! Shut up, you must be thankful for such good, caring best friend. Huh no even you value me!” - she replied, trying to sound hurt, but unable to control the giggles spilling out of her.
Suddenly I was forced to stand back up again from my position on the bed and shoved towards the bathroom by the same woman I call my bestie, making me stick my tongue out to her as she spoke in a tone only mothers use to order their unwilling children.
“Come on now, we don’t have all eternity! Go have a quick shower, freshen up so I can doll you up, or else we’ll be late, and by the time you come out I’ll have your dress for the night laid out on the bed. And so will makeup and accessories…”
She finally started her rant, I knew was going to come any moment now. I can bet and win anything that this rant will still not be over when I return from the bathroom, I thought as I bolted the bathroom door after me.
It has been almost 4 hours at the club, we have been drinking and dancing for the better part of them. Even when Katty is the one who drank much more than me, I am not in a better state myself.
For somehow, the only thing my drunk mind is able to concentrate on is the tall, dark and insanely handsome boss I have, who also happen to be my boyfriend. Katty’s teasings and curiousness to know about our relationship are not helping either. So here I am sat at the bar counter, sipping on my water to at least be able to stay fine until we reach home. My mind revolving around Zach and the fact that tomorrow, I’ll be meeting him and he is actually trying to share his life with me through this meeting with someone special to him.
It is not like he doesn’t share about his life, or that know absolutely nothing of it, but the fact that I know even when he never said out loud, that how much of a sore and difficult topic his family is to him. I had seen the tear trails and heard the quietest sobs from the bathroom we both share in office when the topic of his family suddenly arose during an interview with a journalist a couple of days back.
It is not like I never had thoughts of being left out earlier when he would always change the topic when the question of his family arose, but even before witnessing his breakdown, I could clearly see the turmoil in him he so urgently tried to hide.
It is not I do not know what he must have gone through to gather the courage to finally let me in. I am broken enough myself on the inside to know and recognise his struggles, and the fact that he has some dark past and memories hunting him too but seeing him make his way up, doing so good in life and making efforts to mend himself, making efforts for us, does nothing but increases the respects and love my heart holds for him.
It was the thoughts of him that may have also been of aid that even after drinking so much, I am feeling nothing more than a little dizzy. But it may also very well be the fact that no matter what I do, I don’t get drunk much easily and even when I do the effects never lasts for a time longer than couple hours.
It may have been my distracted mind and heart, but also the fact that I never got a hangover, that I woke up smiling and feeling refreshed even after a long night in the club, when I know the petite lady snoring beside me will be in pain whole day, complaining of the killer headache and hangover. I am still unusually happy and unable to wipe my smile off that soon turns into a grin when I reach to check my phone and comes face to screen with a text…
“Good morning love, I hope you are okay and not hungover, I’ll be coming to pick you up by 5:30 pm. Text me to lemme know you are fine when you wake up baby girl. - Z ”
Such lovely text and the feeling I get whenever he calls be such pet names, make the curl of lips even more permanent, as I quietly slide out of the bed, holding my phone in one hand and the alarm cock from bedside table in the other.
Turning the alarm off quickly, so as to not wake Katty up, my fingers started flying onto my phone’s keyboard as I started typing a reply to Zach as soon as my derrière found itself placed on the sofa. One of my hand reaching forward to grab an apple from the fruit basket on the coffee table in front of me, eyes shifting to the little clock on the top of my phone screen, as I will time to pass as quickly as possible, so I could finally be with him again…