taste | e.d

twenty-three

Ethan

I'm not sure what drove me to come here. I just started walking and my feet led the way.

It's probably not a good idea to show my face here after what happened last time.

But after dealing with crazy fans for years, I became decent at hiding.

I read the small sign that says Empire Nightclub.

After the incident being on the news and the publicity it got when it reopened many months ago, more and more people started flooding the place.

I had thought about coming back before, but the memory of her was too strong. She wasn't okay that night. There was something... off about her. Maybe too many things has gone on and she was vulnerable to everything that surrounded her.

Pinch yourself.

I pinch a specific spot at the skin on the wrist of my right arm, my nail digging so deep I almost draw blood.

The spot is always red and sore. I told myself to start pinching whenever I thought about her. It's something hard to do, considering she's the only person I've ever loved besides Grayson.

My memories of Grayson have gotten a little more in control, though. I think about good memories instead of bad ones, like how I lost him. I've started to feel more thankful, because God let me live with him, even if it was for just eighteen years.

"Hey, are you gonna come in or what?" says a familiar voice. I spot Evan next to the door, his hair neat and the earpiece inserted in his ear.

"I forgot you were a bouncer," I say.

He shakes his head. "I shouldn't let you in."

"Why? Scared I'll drink?"

"No." The tone in his voice marks the lie.

I don't say anything and stare at him until I'm past him, entering the dark hallway with mysterious red neon light bulbs.

I decide to sit down in one of the love seats near a corner of the dance floor. I've never been one to dance. You don't have to be good at dancing to dance. If you're enjoying yourself, you don't even care.

When I saw her dancing, though, it was entrancing. The way she spun and let her body sway. She knew what she was doing but didn't. Rhythm was so instinctive for her she didn't have to focus too hard on it.

I slightly move up my sleeve and pinch hard.

Maybe I should try to grab a drink and forget....

I almost stand up until I see her there.

She's in the same spot she was last time. The packed floor nearly blocks her from view. But she's there. She's smiling. But there's something wrong with the way she moves. She's off-beat and not in sync. It's like her mind wants to do one thing but her body does another. That's when I see her tip the glass cup.

Her face scrunches as the liquid goes down her throat. She yells out, and someone hands her another. She tips it back, its contents leaving the cup and into her mouth in less than two seconds.