A song that I can dance to: End Up Here
About it: So I actually had a lot of trouble picking a song for day 9 because 1. I'm horrible at writing 2. I don't feel so creative rn 3. I cannot dance like at all. Please don't blame me if this turns out really shitty. And it's a break from all the Taylor songs so non-swifties reading this won't hate me (even though I have no idea why you wouldn't like tswizzle but everyone is entitled to their own opinions even though yours is wrong). Oh and also it's gonna be from a guy's pov (point of view) so it's probably gonna suck even more bc I can't write, much less from a guy's pov. Actually just don't read this pls.
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You walked in / everyone was asking for your name / you just smiled / and told them trouble (but seriously which parent would name their kid trouble) (okay okay i know she just tells them that it's not her real name ffs chill)
"You know what's the best thing to do when you're out at a party?" My friend, James hollers on my right, barely audible over the pulsating bass of the terrible dubstep music that was playing.
"What?" I yell back, staggering back almost drunkenly when someone lurches into me, even though I haven't had any of the most-likely-spiked punch which is in my hand. My drink tips over a little, sloshing some onto the head of the person who pushed into me. They shove me a bit, but not with much purpose.
Completely drunk off their head.
"Actually trying to have fun!" he answers, and claps me on the back before leaving my depressing company, probably to go look for some girl with low self-esteem who he could go and grind against for a few more suggestive songs.
(you know at this point i realise that every story i write from a guy's pov is at a party)
Absolutely great.
Without my only guide—albeit a very crαppy one at that—I'm very obviously lost in the swaying swarm of sweaty bodies. The edges of the room are practically empty, so I aim for the wall the furthest away from the DJ whose music is still making me feel nauseous. I can't see anything in the strobe-lit darkness and something very hard jabs into my stomach as I walk, almost making me double over. Good, a table. Reaching around, I find the back of a chair, and hurriedly sit myself in it.
My head spins / I'm pressed against the wall just watching your every move / you're way too cool and you're coming this way
Watching the drunk teenagers move to the music is hypnotising. With the strobe lights, it's hard to see who's who and in the end, they just look like a blur of distorted faces that form one giant sea of grotesque movement. It's disturbing, really, and it's making me feel like throwing up even more, so I bend over my stomach and hand my head between my knees.
"Dude," someone slurs near me. I look up, seeing two guys—well I think they're guys—ogling at something coming from the front of the place. One of them pats the other one's shoulder and walks over confidently to whatever they were looking at. I stand up and try to see where he's going, and it's difficult, but I see him stop near the entrance of the club. His back is turned to me, and because he's actually very tall, I can't see what he's doing. A few seconds later, someone pushes past him, and he looks amused and slightly shocked after the person. Squinting a bit, I see who he's staring after and my breath hitches in my throat, which isn't actually that impossible, due to the humid and stifling atmosphere of the dance room.
"Pιss off," she says casually with a flick of her fingers, as if she's telling someone their shirt is green. Another person walks over to her, this time standing next to her, so I can see her face clearer.
