Together/Not

4 The Joy ⏳

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"Hi, are you okay?"

Carlos reached out, his voice filled with concern. I swayed slightly, dizzy and tipsy, but the night had been too much fun to end now.
He was having a blast too, and I wanted to keep this moment alive.

"Yes, I'm okay. I can handle myself," I assured him, though my swaying made my words seem less convincing.

I teased him, encouraging him to get up on stage and perform—sing or play something for us. For me.

He's adorable, shifting nervously and wiping sweat from his brow, struggling to summon the courage to perform. His hesitation only made him cuter, and I couldn't help but gush about it.

But the pressure began to weigh on him.
His smile faltered.
And he looked genuinely worried, as if the weight of the situation was becoming too much to bear, revealing a hint of defeat.

I eased off the teasing.
I wanted him to fully enjoy the evening, to feel the joy we'd both been missing after the long day we had.
All I wanted was for him to be at ease and share this special moment with me, without any stress or worries.

Instead, I started the "Happy Birthday" song for Carlos again, and the crowd joined in with gusto. He reluctantly went along, his face flushed with embarrassment but also a hint of delight. And as he looked around and saw the joyful faces singing for him, a genuine smile began to spread across his face.

After the crowd finished singing along with the band, the singer stepped forward, microphone in hand, catching everyone's attention. With a teasing smile, he looked our way.
"So, are you two together?"

I smiled, unsure how to respond.
We had only just met hours ago,
but here we were,
having the time of our lives.

"We're exes," Carlos said with a laugh.
The crowd reacted with surprise and excitement.

"Oooh, exes! What's the story here?"
"Are you thinking of rekindling things,
or is there something else going on?"

Carlos and I exchanged a look and burst into synchronized laughter. We were enjoying the playful interrogation and shrugged, leaving the crowd hanging.

"We don't know yet," we said in unison, "We'll see."

As the night went on, I was captivated by him—his laughter like a melody, those hazel-brown eyes I adored, his shy smile that never failed to charm. It felt like we were connecting in a way that was both unexpected and wonderful.

But then,
everything began to unravel.

The vibrant music and animated voices around me turned into a disorienting blur as my head grew heavier with each passing moment. Desperately seeking something to steady myself, I rested my forehead on the table.

The next thing I knew, my stomach revolted violently. I started vomiting uncontrollably, the sensation overwhelming and relentless. My face burned with shame as I heaved again and again.

Carlos was right next to me, his concern evident as he adjusted my hair and made sure my belongings were in place.

"Mia," he called gently but urgently.

"Mia, let's get you home."

I barely managed to respond, my world slipping in and out of focus. He helped me sit up, asking for my address so he could arrange a ride. I was barely conscious, struggling to find my footing. "I can't," I mumbled weakly, "Give me five more minutes."

The mortification of being so out of control, combined with the persistent nausea, left me feeling utterly exposed and helpless.

Somehow, I managed to give him my address, and hopped into a taxi. He stayed by my side the entire time, guiding me as I struggled to stand and walk on my own. When we finally arrived at my place, his gentlemanly nature shone through as he ensured I got home safely.

As he prepared to leave, I noticed the exhaustion etched on his face from taking care of a drunken, stubborn version of me.

"You should stay the night," I suggested, my voice laced with concern.

He hesitated, saying he was fine, but I insisted, my determination wearing him down. Eventually, he relented.

As I snuggled into bed, a wave of comfort washing over me, Carlos politely said, "I'll just sleep on the couch." His voice was warm, I could sense his chivalry, a gentle reminder of the boundaries he respected.

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