Echoes of Transformation

STRANGERS

I continued sipping on my soft drink, trying to sober up. Since it was my first time drinking, I didn't want to overdo it and end up in trouble. I ordered another drink but decided to take a quick trip to the restroom before it arrived. Instead of heading back to the bar, I found myself drawn to the dance floor.

The music pulsed through the dimly lit bar, casting enchanting shadows on the patrons who swayed to the rhythm. Surrounded by the soft glow of the single candle on my table, I allowed myself to move gracefully, my senses tingling with the euphoria of dancing alone.

In the past, I used to be out with friends, cherishing the laughter and camaraderie. I cared deeply for my friends, but today was different. I was here without anyone's company, and it was a unique experience that allowed me to discover a new sense of self.

Amidst the music and my graceful movements, memories flooded back. Thoughts of my friend, Joy, filled my mind. He was my best friend from school, my first male friend, and he had a talent for making me laugh and pulling my mind into mischievous and humorous territory. Joy's influence had changed me profoundly, unlocking the extroverted side I never knew I had.

Dancing peacefully, I suddenly felt someone's gaze on me. I knew it was "Mr. J Smith." I made my way over to my soft drink and noticed he was attempting to strike up a conversation again. He was saying something, but my interest waned as I couldn't help but think about him. He had a cool demeanor, an air of sophistication about him. He possessed a masculine physique with a refined allure. Some might think his fragrance was irresistible, but it didn't quite match my soft, gentle personality. He confidently strolled into the dimly lit room, his attire impeccable—a sleek black trouser paired with a black Armani shirt. What caught everyone's attention, however, were the top two buttons casually unfastened, revealing a glimpse of his hidden cleavage, a subtle yet magnetic statement of style. He appeared to be a successful businessman in his thirties, almost like someone searching for a housewife in a bar. It was a humorous thought, but he gave off that vibe—someone who would suit a woman from a wealthy family, now successfully running her father's business. Mr. J Smith seemed like the kind of person you'd find among the heirs of prosperous families.

I snapped back to reality when he asked, "Can I buy you a drink?"
"J": "Hey, can I buy you a drink?"

I remained silent, simply staring. I'm the kind of person who generally avoids interference in my business, but I'm also quite talkative. Most people assume that talkative girls don't think much before they speak, but that's not me. I carefully consider my words and often engage in inner self-debates. I may not judge someone on the spot, but I know my limits and how to interact with both new and old acquaintances.

Kiana: "Sure, okay, but I would like to order mine. You can pay for it."

I usually didn't allow strangers to pay my bills, but to avoid complications, I acquiesced and signaled to the bartender for my order.

Kiana: "One Virgin Mojito mocktail, please."

The bartender who appeared was different from the one before. Perhaps there had been a shift change. This bartender had impeccable, stylish hair, animated facial features, and an attractive fragrance. His figure was toned, and his looks were dignified. He had a somewhat cold expression, but it didn't come off as arrogant. As he prepared my drink, his shadow cast sharp, alluring features that were difficult to ignore.

The night sky outside the bar's windows showcased a breathtaking view, with stars twinkling among the leaves that framed the scene. It was a setting that added to the intrigue of the moment, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation, not only for my birthday celebration but for the enigmatic encounters that lay ahead

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AUTHOR NOTE : I'm an imaginary type of person, but this is the first time I'm putting it into words.