This was a therapeutic chain of events.

SEVENTEEN

I was now inside a room, filled with drunk boozies and adolescent misfits. My kind of place. The majority of people in here were aged between 17 to 35, I would say. I was definitely one of the youngest people in here, by default. But I never did act my age, which is the reason I was holding a bottle of beer in my hand right about now, the bartenders never ask questions. I didn't even take note of the name of this place once I got in here, and for the life of me I couldn't remember what I told the cab driver. 

I turned my head slightly to the left, this was round about the time I would begin sizing a place up, before I made a move on whoever I thought fit the bill. To the left of me was a wall lined with boothes, full of middle aged men who could no longer hold their drinks, or their laughter, creating quite the racket, none of them looked of significance importance to my venture so I decided to move on. To the right of me were some people, more my age I guessed, laughing and standing more steadily on two feet. I turned my attention back to the bar tender ordering a glass of bourbon, trying to remember all the people I saw. 

I turned again, there was a guy who was facing in my direction, he was wearing black boots, loose fitting black skinny jeans, a grey low hanging shirt and a black leather jacket, his face was defined and his hair was long enough so that he could just about tuck it behind his ear, the majority of it flopping over to the right side of his head. He was standing with a guy who was facing the other way, wearing all black, with his hair tucked all up into a simple black beanie. They were both similar ages, and older than me, I guessed around 23- 25. I caught the guys eye who was facing me, and he stopped speaking to his friend and just stared.  Once his friend noticed he had stopped listening he also turned to face me, I had played this game before, so stared for a little longer, tuning away when I was positive they would start making their way over. 

Ten, Nine, Eight, I started counting down from ten, Six, Five, Four, Three, Two, One. And then as if on queue the guy with the longer hair came up beside me and rested on the bar. This is getting to easy. He ordered a beer, and then after taking a sip turned his head slightly to look at me.

"Your new." He spoke at a normal speaking voice, his voice was husky and deep, he reminded me of someone who probably had lived here their entire life and was a bit of a people watcher, knowing many of the people he surrounded himself with. 

"How can you tell? Maybe I'm old." I said not looking away from in front of me, after from shooting him a little smirk with the side of my lips. 

"Trust me. I wouldn't forget a face like yours." I turned my head to look at him, raising an eyebrow as well as my lip in a sort of appreciation to his comment. "What brings you here?" He asked taking another sip of his beer. I myself doing the same.

"I just moved here yesterday." I said turning my attention back to the mirror above the bar.

"Know anyone out here?" He asked rubbing his finger along my forearm. 

"Nope." I said popping the P and looking at him innocently.

"Nathan" He said looking down at me, sticking his hand out for me to shake. 

"Ronnie." I said shaking his hand.

"Wanna get out of here Ronnie?" He asked with a sly grin and furrowed brow. 

"Absolutely." I said, then with a smile, he grabbed my hand and we were out bar. 

The majority of the night was spent driving around LA, roof down, music blaring, alcohol pulsating through our veins, screaming at the top of our lungs. I met the guy he was with back at the bar and he had joined us, his name was James, I had literally known these guys for 30 seconds and then it suddenly felt like I had known them as much as Bono. 

Once we had been driving around for what felt like only two minutes, but had actually been two hours, we went to on of Nathan's 'special parties', and once we got there, it really was. I always thought New York was the holy grail of night clubs, parties and drugs, but I had surely underestimated LA. It was a different kind of vibe here, here you felt like you could do anything in the world, and no one could stop you. 

My brain didn't think once of Brendon, or his perfect wife and his perfect house, whihc meant that I had made the right choice, and this night out was doing what it was supposed to. Slowly but surely, the pain, the abandonment, the regret all just melted away with every puff of a cigarette or drag of a spliff. 

The rest of the night was a colorful array of the black and white night all morphing in to one focus of clarity, drugs. With every joint I smoked or line of euphoria I sucked from each table top, wiping it's surface clean of all it's traces. The further I went into a state of bliss and bewilderment, I learnt to love this city, I learnt to love these people, and the good part is, it was all in the space of a few hours. That was until my aching limbs craved the comfort of a surface which I could lie on. In this case a dingy leather sofa in the corner of the room, which had never brought me so much comfort. 

I sat there doing what I usually do and stared at the wall, expecting it to come alive or some how move. But it never did, I always willed it to, maybe come out and say hello, but it was a very unsociable wall and I didn't appreciate it much. Then after being satisfied and almost sat on. I got back up, and started once again.