Infinitude.

1

Whoosh!

I hear the sound of a couple cars zooming by me. With each car, yellow headlights flash by me for a split second. The cars, one after another, slap me with sudden gusts of wind, although the city air itself was dead and quiet.

I agitatedly pull strands of my hair away from my face as I walk aimlessly down the bright neon-colored streets of the dark city. Every building I turned to look at was either a restaurant, a bar, or an arcade. All the different logos beamed with bright greens and magentas, most of them with a fat, bubbly font.

Funny, I thought to myself, they tried to make this look like the 50's to 80's era, but they don't seem to have any idea that younger people who wanted a more futuristic feel would come here, too.

I turn my head to a group of people standing outside of a bar, Rick's, just after they all clinked their martini glasses. I guess my assumption that they would make themselves appear as young adults in their time was correct. They all dressed themselves in those shitty thrift store quality glitter coats and ungodly enormous hair, bigger than my own head for sure.

Damn, I groaned in my mind, I guess it's gonna be hard fitting in here.
My mind punishes me with pessimistic thoughts. Maybe I should have gone to Old Evergreen instead. That place seems like the perfect solace for safe, anti-social people like me.

For some reason, though, something else was encouraging me to go into that bar. Maybe by some crazy chance, people of my generation would come along. Without further thinking, I stepped straight into the bar.

When I first entered the room, I was immediately blasted with music from a band playing in the very back of the room, hardly able to be seen by the clumps of fresh-faced dancing couples filling up the small room. The band contained a drummer, a person playing that obnoxious synthesizer, and the lead singer, who shrouded her identity with big red glasses and sung at a nasally high pitch that was clearly too much for her capability.

With the rainbow lights circling around the room from a strobe blinding me each time it hit my eyes, and the loud music and people around every step, I had no idea where to start going or what to do, so I hastily rushed to the nearest empty booth.

Soon after, a tall, thin figure unveiled itself from the masses and approached me.
"Well, you're certainly a different someone here." he said.

I looked at him, about to respond, but my already anxious mind couldn't find the words to say. He signaled me to move over to the glass pane and plopped down right next to me, his cola in his grasp spilling a little on the table.

He made a close analysis on my clothing, from my black tennis shoes up to my silver-dyed hair. "You don't look like someone who would come here." he said, "Why did you end up here?"

I simply responded with the
first answer I could think of. "I just wanted to see what it looked like inside." I said, "I know I don't belong in a place like this. In a city like this."

He interrupted me shortly after. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean it like that." he said, "I just think someone like you would have headed straight for something like Old Evergreen. It's refreshing to have a fellow millennial here."

He moved himself, observing the crowd. "These people all try to pretend they're someone else." he chuckled, then sipped more of his cola. "I can see right through people's bullshit. Call it a special power of mine. It's good to see that you're being authentic."

I blushed a little, but I tried to hide it. It'd been so long since someone had given me a compliment. It feels like it's been forever.
He held out his palm to shake. "I'm Daniel. You?" he said.
"Plat."
"Prat?"

"No." I giggled, raising my voice after. "Plat. Like the first letters in platinum."
"Oh," he grinned awkwardly, "that's an interesting name." he tried to pretend like he understood, but I could tell he was weirded out as fuck by my name.

"What is it you do here?" I asked.

"I just plan to hang around this place until it's time to go. Many of these people plan to stay here forever, but I think there's something better waiting for me beyond this place."

Suddenly, the music playing at the back of the room stopped. The band disassembled their instruments and walked off the stage. Soon after, a man walked up the stage holding a slip of paper in his hand. He then clenched the microphone.

"Our next act is..." he stared at the paper, "Mr. Daniel Farlsome with his song, The Wait."

"Oh, that's me!" Daniel jumped up from the booth, and hastily weaved through the crowds of people and onto the stage in the spotlight. He picked up a dark brown guitar from the back of the stage and started strumming it.

I paid close attention to him and waited for him to start singing.

It's not easy
when the rain starts pouring,
Not outside, but
deep in your soul,

His voice was a bit of a surprise to me. Judging by his look and the tone of his talking voice, I expected him to have the handsome, tenor range vocals of every tweenage girls' dream. Instead, he sung in a deep, slightly raspy voice. It sounded ugly at first, but it fit perfectly with the tone of the song. He gave me a couple glances, hoping I was paying attention to his singing. I couldn't help but grin a little.

Soon after, the audience could tell he was glancing directly at me, and some people stopped and stared at me, thinking I was important or something. I felt really weird with all these people focusing in on me. My heart rate started running in rapid beats, and I could feel myself sweating. I knew that if I fucked up on anything, whether tripping or giving the wrong face, everyone would notice.

I couldn't control myself. I speedwalked straight over to the exit and outside, covering half of my face with my hand so no one could see me.