The bass of you

Chapter 6

It's absolutely freezing outside. I'm not drunk enough to cope with the cold just yet, but I'm distracted by it when I start walking a bit down the street and the fresh air hits me. It suddenly feels like the shots have hit me all at once, like I said they probably would – and they did, typically. There's a lot of people hovering outside the bars nearby in groups, laughing and talking together while they smoke.

Feeling awkward about standing on my own and looking like a loner to other people, I walk down the street and see another street on the opposite side, along the side of the end bar. I decide to walk down there, hoping there's no dodgy people hanging around there, and I really am alone. As I walk down the street, there's a narrow alleyway to my right that has the back of the bars there. It's quiet down there, nobody seems to be down there, and I look like I can smoke in peace. I don't take the time to analyse the back-alley properly because I'm fairly confident nobody is down there and plus, my vision is starting to spin, so I can't be bothered to look around me in fear that I'm going to make myself feel sick.

Waddling down the alley, I'm feeling good about being alone and able to smoke my fag in peace. I lean my back against the wall and close my eyes for a moment to try and pull myself together and hope that when I open my eyes, my vision will be a bit better than it was. Maybe downing five shots in a row then walking outside wasn't such a good idea, but it's done now, and there's nothing I can do about it now. My peacefulness is suddenly interrupted by a door opening, loud metal music booms out from inside and I open my eyes to look around. The back door to one of the bars opposite the bar I'm drinking in is open and a boy walks out on his own. I'm not sure which bar it is, but I'm sure it could be the bar where there were security men outside, but I'm still not certain. Feeling embarrassed about the possibility of someone seeing me obviously trying to pull myself together because I've drank my alcohol too fast, I move away from the wall and straighten up.

The boy is so drunk, he's swaying everywhere and chuckling to himself as he closes the back door. He feels the walls as he drops down on his ass and sits on the step by the backdoor, spreading his legs apart as he drops his head between them and holds his hands over the back of his head. I'm kind of envious of him being able to go in the bar that took me and Layla's interest first, but knew we couldn't get in when we saw the security men turning everyone away – if it is the bar I think it is.

The way the boy is dressed catches my attention, it's not like the way any other boy in Wales usually dresses for a night out. He's wearing black skinny jeans, a leather jacket, a white t-shirt underneath, and black combat boots. My foot moves on the floor and stones underneath crunch against the bottom of my boot, catching the boy's attention. He raises his head to look at me and I instantly turn away, hoping that he didn't catch me looking at him. Dipping my hand into the pocket of my leather jacket, I pull out my fag and place it between my lips as I look at the ground and feel for my lighter...but I can't feel it.

Worrying and feeling the embarrassment of walking back to the bar to grab a lighter from Layla, I frantically feel for the lighter in my other pocket, but it's not in there either. I slap my hand on the ass pockets of my jeans in hope that I may have slid the lighter in one of those pockets without remembering, but there's nothing in them. I groan louder than I mean to and throw my head back, closing my eyes at the thought of walking back to the bar and then out again, looking like an idiot. Finally I manage to build up the nerve to start walking back there, opening my eyes and beginning to walk away when...

"You need a light?"

In response to hearing the boy talk, I instantly stop in my tracks and debate whether I should turn around and answer him. I think about where we are : in a back alley, in the dark, where nobody else is. The boy is clearly drunk out of his mind, nobody else is around. Do I turn around and talk back? Do I pretend like I didn't hear him? It hits me that I could be overthinking the situation and this is exactly the reason why I don't talk to a lot of people – because I overthink the situation and pick out the negatives of it all the bloody time. Unsure of whether to turn around, I start thinking of the worst case scenario in my head if I do turn around. I'm literally frozen, my vision is spinning slightly and the harsh cold is finally starting to fade away the more alcohol kicks in. He's a lot drunker than I am, so I'm sure I can fight him off if he decides to do try anything to me, the boy can barely keep himself up from what I had seen when he was exiting the bar.