A Bad Party
“Let it hurt, but don’t let it live”
- Julia Faria, For single people, with love.
I made just over thirty minutes by bus from home to the bar where Claudio was. It was a fancy place, with a line to enter and a stocky security guard at the entrance. Everyone was very well dressed except me. As I approached the man in black, he looked at me up and down, then frowned.
I showed the text message and explained that my friend was already inside, but it was useless. A few giggles from the people behind me proved how pathetic my existence was.
Before I got into a wreck and left, Claudio stuck his head out the door, catching the security guard’s attention.
- What is it, Rogerio? Let the girl in!
Grudgingly, the man opened the chain that barred the entrance, giving me passage, to the general disgust of the nation. As we entered, I had the time only to hear the brute threatening.
“Let the boss know you keep bringing in friends”.
“Boss”, I thought. The word kept spinning around my brain longer than it should have. Claudio noted the discomfort and then put his arm around my shoulder as we walked through the crowd.
It was dark, but soon the lights exploded on my face, bringing games of colored smoke lighting and all that was right. The armchairs were blood-red suede, and everything else from the counter to the ceiling seemed to have been taken from a rich-manning magazine.
“I told you I was going to take a nice job. I’m learning how to make drinks and they let me be the intern here”. I tried my best to contribute to his excitement, but being totally unprepared for something like that made me absolutely alert.
“Don’t worry,” said Claudio, as if reading my mind. - You’re beautiful as always. And whatever you want to eat or drink you can ask me to hang it on my account. Now I have to work, kitty, I’ll be back here when I can. Have a good time! - With a kiss on my forehead, my friend walked away, leaving me lost in the middle of that bunch of people too beautiful to be real.
I spent a few seconds watching the girls wearing expensive dresses, balancing their perfect bodies on higher heels than skyscrapers. Opal faces gleamed against the lights, so splendid that they took my breath.
Not even a lipstick I had put on my face, what a shame!
I stared at the bar, watching uneasily the bartender’s movement. Then I saw Claudio folding the sleeves of his black social shirt. The snake tattoo on his arm flashed as if alive.
Our eyes met for a second and he smiled. His curls were pinned back to the famous samurai bun, a hairstyle charm. In the chest, my heart pounded. We have known each other since forever. He was my only friend and the person I trusted the most.
My first love...
I got up, sure that it was past time to tell Claudio how I felt. This was the perfect time, no regrets!
I strode toward the counter, making my way through the frantic, drunk dancers on duty. It was so crowded that the farther I went, the less I could see. Then, squeezed, I pushed a couple, ignoring their curses, only to come across a big, hairy blonde. She slid her fake nails through the opening in my friend’s chest buttons, so sticky it made me want to puke.
I turned before they could both see me, holding back sobs, feeling tears wetting my face. What did he call me for? To rub another hot one on my face? What is that shit?
In a hurry, I tried to get out, but, stunned as I was, I ran into someone else. This time the thing was more violent. Our bodies crashed so hard it took a pair of sturdy arms to hold me tight to avoid the tumble.
My face, though dark, turned to red pepper. “Humiliation after humiliation”, this was the new status I was going to provide for that instant messaging app I used.