Aftertaste [COMPLETED]

Chapter 3 :: A Sky Full of Stars

I LOOKED IN THE MIRROR for the fifth time that minute and reviewed my outfit once again.

I wore a black corduroy skirt and a floral print turtle neck cropped top
with long sleeves that met my skirt just above my belly button. I reviewed my makeup, and as I looked at myself - dead in the big green eyes - I wondered what am I stepping into tonight? I grabbed my phone and slipped it into my pocket. Let's do this anyway.

The cold air nipped at my skin as I walked across the campus. I pulled my sleeves down over my hands and tried to keep my teeth from chattering. My mind was racing with thoughts of
apprehension and regrets, to sum up my thoughts at that moment:  Woulda', Shoulda' Coulda'.

I didn't know what the heck I was doing, and I almost turned back twice.

What am I doing? I couldn't help thinking that I was wasting my time by going to this party, or getting myself into unnecessary trouble. I mean I barely even know this guy. How do I even know he's gonna show up? I mean, there are gonna be so many people there, will I even see him? Ugh, shoulda' gotten his didgets, I mentally reprimanded myself.

"Where even is this place?" I asked myself aloud, I had been walking around for nearly fifteen minutes and had absolutely no idea where I was going. My question however was soon answered, as I heard wild party goers shouting and looked up to see the house lights of a frat house illuminating it, making the abbreviation K A T, stand out.

Working my way in the door was more of an obstacle course than anything else: I pushed through countless bodies that were drunkenly falling over themselves and each other out on the front lawn, then I was faced with the daunting task of getting myself up the steps leading up to the veranda.

There were two drunken lovers making out right in the centre of the stairs and I had to work my way around them, then I had to squeeze through the loud laughing brood of who I assumed to be seniors.

I said 'excuse me' at least five times, but talking to them at that moment was the equivalent of talking to a brick wall: you talk all you want, be as polite as you please, but them bricks ain't budgin'.

Once I had made it through the wall of seniors, I had a clear view of the door.

A golden light illuminated it, angels sung a harmonious tune in the background, time stood still and my surrounding faded into black, I had my eye on the prize and all I could think was: door. At last I had made it; the last five minutes of my life - probably the most nonsense filled moments of randomness I had ever experienced - were not spent in vain.

But then the golden light faded, and the sound of angelic singing was interrupted by the scratching of a record and my surroundings came back into view. There was still one thing stand in my way, literally.

There was a guy standing in the doorway with his shirt off, hair disheveled, and a giant K painted onto his toned abs. He was leaning against the doorrframe with a red bucket of something in his hands.

As I approached him, I could see that he had a dark substance smeared on both sides of his face. My surroundings were too obscured so I could not make out what it was with my sight, but my sense of smell told me it was mud. Why is he holding a bucket filled with mud? Once again, my question was immediately answered.

I girl wearing nothing but a piece if string - okay so she may have been wearing something, but I seriously don't think that a crop top and denim underwear should count as clothes - and her equally slutified friend pushed past me as if I was not standing there and walked up to the guy in the doorway. "Where do you want it?," he asked flashing them a grin as he dipped his free hand into the bucket and pulled out two fingers covered in mud.