When You Stop Hating To Exist

Chapter 2

THE DATE

Jessie had a date scheduled later that night.

Her friends set it up, as she "really needs to get laid", and who was she to argue.
She had no excuse not to go, what should she say? If it would not be for the date, she would have stayed on her couch, watching some sitcom or whatever the TV Stations would play that night.

Now she was here. The club was filled nicely, enough people to not draw attention on her but still empty enough to talk with others, at least that is what she guessed, she had not talked to anyone since her date had not arrived yet.

She watched the people around her.
One of them had to be her date.
She did not know what he looked like, her friends just texted her the address and the time, saying her date knew everything else.

He was described as a chill guy. To her he sounded more like the best friend kinda guy but who was she to judge. She still dressed up. She wore a grey T-Shirt with an old yellow phone cell on it. The print already started to fade. She hadn't bothered to change out of her work pants. Her Docs separated Jessie from the ground.

She knew her friends would be in some corner of the club to either rescue her if the guy was a creep or to celebrate if they'd go home together.
It had always been like that when they sat each other up and it would always be like that.

She had been in this club before.
It was okay, nothing new.
They played some generic music, served okay-ish drinks and the crowd always changed.
The interior was not special either.
Everything was made out of wood.
The cushions had seen way too many asses and the floor showed all signs of being danced on.
It wasn't aesthetic but all that Jessie wanted was to get done with this date, get drunk, go home and sleep.
Nothing much.

"Hey, are you Jessie?" someone spoke next to her.

She examined at him.

He had blonde short hair that stood up. It was obvious that that guy had used gel to keep them standing like that, with one red strain.

The red theme continued on his T-Shirt. It was a red shirt with some sports club logo on it.

Generic.

He had a black denim jacket that had a soft interior to keep him warm in the cold November weather. The jacked looked new, his blue denim jeans did not. They had two ripped knees.
Black boots.
Not Doc Martens.
Yellow and purple laces.
He was still looking at her.
He had normal brown eyes.
He smiled warmly.
He was okay.
She would not go home with him.

She smiled back at him. Not softly, not faked, only happy that he was there because she was bored and after this was over, she could go home.

"Yes that's me. And you're?"

He removed his jacket.
His T-Shirt was tight.
She could see his muscles.
He probably worked out; maybe he was a wrestler like her.
Maybe he was just a gym guy.
Maybe even a bragger.
There was no need to think more about that as she would find out later anyway.
Men like him usually started to brag 10 minutes in.

"Andy," he answered after he sat down.

Jessie knew that she should find him hot.
He ticked all boxed for "hot guy".
He was muscular,
young,
very fit,
a bit shy looking,
polite.
He looked like a safe option.
A guy that you could not go wrong with.

She did not.

"This place is nice," he said while sitting down, "You often here?"

Jessie shook her head no. Then she realized that he was not even looking at her. He was facing the chalkboard over the bar. Probably debating about what he would order once the waiter came.