For the longest time

II

The murmuring grew louder by the minute. I held my empty glass as I adjusted my eyes to the darkness of the place. I could notice the divided crowd; the ones who were panicking, the ones who were patiently waiting for the lights to come back. This was terribly unfair. I needed some fresh air. Or a cigarette. 

"I think we're going to be in this black box for the rest of the night", I heard Travis say behind my back.

I nodded, "maybe I should just go home. I'm tired, anyways"

Every time I began to feel alive, something happened and reality slapped me really hard across the face. You can't be alive, Erin, you can't. Go back to the dark side. Go back and stay there. 

Fuck this.

I sighed and pulled out a few bills from my jacket, I didn't even know how much money I left on the counter. I just got up and left the bar. 

The warm breeze hit my face and I felt like I was suffocating. This place was too big, yet too small. NYC was big, my mind was small. NYC was small, my mind was infinite. Fuck this. I lit a cigarette and sat on the curb. I needed a break from my non-stop thinking. 

"Got a lighter?"

The thick British accent surprised me. Too lost in my own thoughts to even notice that I wasn't the only person around. I looked up. That ginger hair, the cigarette dangling from those rosy lips. Those eyes, those tired blue eyes. 

"Here", I handed the singer my lighter. To my surprise, he sat down next to me and handed it back after he exhaled the first smoke. 

He chuckled and took another drag from his cigarette, "did you enjoy that shit show?"

I arched my eyebrow. "Shitshow?" He looked like he was having fun, he seemed so confident up there on the stage. Here, sitting right next to me, all that light was gone. He had a whole different aura. A whole different presence. Hunched shoulders, lifeless stare, a sarcastic tone throughout his posture.

"Shitshow. Shit show", he repeated. Didn't say anything else, though.

We remained in silence for a few moments until it became really awkward. I finished my cigarette and dropped the butt next to my feet. I stood up, "it was nice to meet you, Ed Sheeran. I guess."

He dismissed my vague compliment with a hand and a scoff. I shrugged and started to walk away, but I stopped right there when I heard him loud and clear again: "did you think it was a shit show?"

I shoved my hands in my pockets, the cold wind freezing my hands. "I don't know", I admitted. "I'd never been to one of those. I thought it was really cool, though. How everyone was at the best party of the year"

Ed rolled his eyes, "parties eventually end, the drunkenness, too. We remain hungover and with so little memories of the previous night. A freaking shit show"

"Okay"

He sighed and dropped his half-finished cigarette. "I'm sorry", he stood up. "Not a good night"

I shrugged, "okay." What else was I supposed to say?

People started to leave the bar and they approached us, they approached Ed. Travis approached me. 

"Hey, Ed! You okay?"

"Dude! That was awesome until the power went out"

"They forgot to pay the bill again?"

"Bastards"

"Hey, Erin", Travis smiled at me and I reciprocated the gesture. "Some friends are going to this bar a few blocks away, you want to come?"