story prompts.

prompt # 2

"Madelyn, please come with us," Mio begged. I responded by shaking my head. "Please, Madelyn," he pleaded, "the group is expecting me to show up with you there." "No," I said flatly. "Besides, I've got things to do," I explained. He looked at me with skepticism. "Really? Like what?" he asked, crossing his arms. I opened my mouth to respond, then shut it again. So, what was I supposed to do? I mentally went over the tasks I needed to complete, which I had apparently completed earlier. I groaned internally as I rolled my eyes. "Not important; I just don't want to go, Mio," I reasoned. I attempted to leave, but he blocked the door. I scowl at him. "Move," I command. He grinned as he shook his head. "Mio!" I exclaimed.

"Join me, and then I'll let you leave; it's that simple, Mads." His grin broadened. I glared at him. "I could stay here all day," he jokingly said. "Fine, fine. I'm going. Just move out of the way," I grumbled. He cheered and moved. I smiled at him, my lips pursed. "I will change, and you," he says, pointing to me. "Get dolled up," he adds as he walks towards his room. As I walked towards my room, I shook my head.

At the bar

My ears were filled with loud music as soon as we walked in. Mio searched the room for his friends. I followed suit, my brown eyes meeting familiar brown ones. They were the ones I dreaded seeing. The same ones who irritated me to no end. He looks so vexing. He motioned for us to sit with them with a wave. Mio took a step forward, and I followed. He greeted his friends. "Madelyn!" exclaimed one of Mio's pals. "Glad you can join us," he said, grinning.

"I'm glad to be here, Franco," I said, smiling. "Where has the birthday girl gone?" I searched the area for traces of the birthday girl. "The dance floor, with the other girls," said a deep voice. I scowled. I turn around to face him and say, "Jayce." A minute passes. "How are you?" he inquired. I was puzzled. Normally, he would respond with a remark that would irritate me, but the tone in his voice sounded genuine. He was genuinely interested in how I was doing. I softly chuckled. "I'm doing well; work has been hectic but rewarding," I say.

We were having an ordinary conversation. We are finally being civil to each other. "That is good," he said, nodding. "Would you like something to drink?" he asked, handing me a glass. I accepted it from his grasp as a yes. I sipped it, and my face creased at the bitter taste. "Whiskey?" I inquired. He laughed. "Yeah, why? You don't like whiskey?" I shake my head no. "Not really. I have only drank it in front of my male colleagues to seem cool, you know?" he laughed. "Professional," he remarked. I rolled my eyes amusingly.

We talked and laughed for quite some time. "You know, you are not that bad," I exclaimed, catching my breath after laughing. "How so?" he asked, raising his brows. "I've always thought you hated me," I said, his eyes widening. "What?" he exclaimed, laughing. "Don't make fun of me," I grumbled. "Come on, I have a good reason to believe that," I continued. "Let's hear it," he said, motioning for me to explain. "You never talk to me," I interrupted when he opened his mouth.

"Every time I tried to talk to you, you always found a way to avoid me. When I entered the room, you always left, making an excuse. I was hurt and perplexed. I didn't know what I did to make you do all those things. After that, I swore to myself that I would treat you the same, hence the remarks and attitudes," I explained. He locked his gaze on me for a few moments. I'm embarrassed. "I know it's stupid," I said, laughing. "You were mistaken," he said.

"I was intimidated by you; I didn't know how to approach you, so I avoided you; I was afraid of saying the wrong things if I talked to you," he explained. "Believe me, if I had the courage to talk to you much sooner, I would have," he said with a smile. I was taken aback. "You were intimidated by me?" I could not believe it. "What? Why? How?" I frantically inquired. He laughed at my excitement. "How could I not?" he wondered.

"When I first met you, you were this girl who held her head up so high and defended your brother even though you did not know the whole story; after your brother's disagreement with his classmate, you demanded to know what was going on and scolded him for his wrongdoings; you looked so cool," he explained. "I am pretty sure that day was the first time I was intimidated by a woman," he remarked. I jokingly hit his arm and laughed alongside him. "I remember that. Wow, was I that scary?" he nodded in response to my question.

"Gosh, I am glad you talked to me today; otherwise, we might be avoiding each other right now," I joked. "Agreed. You should thank Mio for convincing me to talk to you." I turned to face Mio, who was drinking with his friend Allie. "I will do it later; he appears to be busy," I said, motioning to them. He grinned. "Your brother is a coward, too," I agreed. "I am surprised Allie has not picked up on his advances; she is also a little clueless," I added. "Enough about them," he concluded.

I made the decision to break the silence between us. "I suppose this makes us friends?" I joked. "It does," he replied, smiling back. "Would you like to dance?" I stood up and extended my hand to him. He accepted it, and I led him to the dance floor. I felt myself enjoying the night as my body moved in time with the music. I am amazed at how quickly a night can change someone's status.

Sharing vulnerabilities opens the door to confessions, unraveling revelations that can reshape your entire perception of an individual. In this narrative, Jayce takes center stage. Initially, I believed I knew Jayce well—an individual with a penchant for irritating others, a perception formed without delving into who he truly was. My certainty about my opinion of him was unshakable.

However, tonight marked a revelation. Jayce proved my assumptions wrong, revealing an engaging and pleasant side of himself. Our conversation flowed effortlessly, touching upon his passion for guitars and a myriad of other subjects. His ability to make me feel comfortable was swift, a stark contrast to the prolonged durations it typically takes to connect with others. Locked in a gaze, time seemed to slow, the background music muted, and an unspoken connection lingered between us—a sensation I struggled to pinpoint.

The palpable tension dissolved only when an accidental collision with a stranger disrupted our shared moment. Apologizing to the unintended intruder, I consciously set aside my emotions, attributing the intensity of the encounter to the possibility of alcohol-induced influence. Yet, upon reflection, I acknowledged a genuine interest in truly getting to know someone for the first time.