The Best Man's Speech

19: Drunken Parties

✵ JAMES ✵

Walking into the club, I identified Michael standing in the center of a crowd of men while Nathan stood beside him, the both of them just talking and laughing at what were probably the most immature and stupid jokes ever. Seems they were already drunk and I was late. I sighed, regretting the decision of agreeing to be the best man at the wedding when I could avoid all of this chaotic mess.

I spent all of yesterday fussing about the tiny details at the venue and the playlist of soundtracks that had to play in the background, to help keep the guests entertained. I had to schedule a whole mini tracklist of slow songs for the married couple to dance to when the time was perfect. The easiest part, that Michael and I agree upon, was dealing with security and the guest list. It was slightly confusing since the guests were not referred to by their surnames, unless a whole table was reserved for a family.

Today was the girls' day at the spa and beauty parlours before their bachlorette party... which means that I hardly got to see Lyra during the day. But she did start texting me to tell me a little of her day, which was rather entertaining to read, in all honesty.

"James!" Devon, one of Nathan's best friends called out to me, waving his hand in the air to signal me to join them. I sighed out of annoyance before reluctantly dragging my feet over to where they all stood, clearly waiting for me to join them.

"This is our night to screw around with anyone. The perfect excuse to sleep with anyone sexually... and Nathan's last night to do all of that!" Steven cockishly cheered as the rest of the guys passed around "oohs" to the statement of Nathan agreeing to be in a relationship based on love and commitment. My eyes immediately diverted to Nathan who seemed happy with the fact that tonight was his last night as a bachelor.
It didn't make much sense to me since he seemed extremely proud and happy of that fact. I always thought of marriage as being the worst thing to have ever happened to someone, especially after knowing about what happened to my mother.

"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!" The men around me, who managed to transform themselves into boys, chanted as they shoved shots of mixed alcoholic beverages my way. While disputing their orders, I gulped each glass down as fast as I could, not leaving a single drop of anything inside of them.

God knows what were in those drinks, my vision started to get a little hazy but I could still see fine... I can't get drunk that easily. My alcohol tolerance is quite high. I was startled at the notice of a random girl sitting herself down on my lap while she clumsily held a glass of wine in her hand. I stared at her for a while, before looking down at the rest of her body. She wore a short black skirt that barely covered the tip of her knickers and her butt-cheeks, revealing a lot of leg that stood in the slutty stiletto heels that she wore. Her white shirt was barely a shirt and revealed a lot more of her cleavage than I would like to admit, alongside her stomach that awkwardly had a slightly popping belly, despite her being slim. I looked up at her face before looking over at Nathan who was too busy allowing a random hooker to suck out the life from his face. Looking back at the hooker that sat on my lap, I realised how obvious and cake-like her makeup looked; she was powdered in white, while her lips were stained with bright red that put me off.

Without any warning, the bimbo crushed her lips against mine and made me feel like I was going to throw up. It felt like she was trying to eat my mouth, without using her teeth, instead of kissing me. Abruptly standing up, I pushed her off of me and wiped my mouth like I was disgusted. I looked up to find Michael staring at me in curiosity. He held an empty glass in his hand and watched me like I was his prey. "I can't." I announced. Of course no one but him heard my words since they were all too drunk to understand or pay attention or were too busy being distracted by other hookers.

"I can't do this to her." I said, bringing my hands to my hair as I tried to figure out what had just happened. What was happening to me? I would've been okay with this a few days ago but I am not. Why couldn't I do this anymore? Was it because of her? Her. The woman who keeps me up at night and makes me worry about her, over nothing.

"Why?" Michael shouted back, making sure I heard him.

"I love her." I replied loudly. I watched his expression transform from curiosity to shock as he froze, staring at me. "I am sorry." I mouthed to him before past people to get out of the club. "Where are you?" I asked myself, thinking about her and wondering where I could find her. To my convenience, I saw a black jeep pass by and followed it. The number plate was familiar to me, it was the same one she was bound to be in... she sent me a picture of the car before I got drunk. I started to run, following the black car to wherever it was going. Thanks to the traffic here, I managed to maintain sight on the vehicle.

Turning into the curb, I watched the vehicle come to a stop in front of another one of the city's most classy clubs. A long line of women in black dresses started to pour out of the club, as if they were leaving the venue already. I sighed once I had been able to spot her among the crowd. While Meia had worn a black dress that had a metallic waist belt, with one side of the skirt dipping further down her leg than the other, Lyra wore a more exposive dress. She wore a shorter black dress that revealed a lot of her skin on her leg, while exposing three lines of her completely flat stomach through lace, as well as exposing her chest and a bit of her cleavage through another layer of lace that made her dress look more geometric and sexy compared to her sister's modest edition of a black dress.

I continued to stand at the turning of the street, watching her intently as she laughed away with the girls near her. They were all clearly already drunk as they tumbled on their few steps out of the club as they fell into fits of laughter. The long line of men followed them out and managed to swarm the girls, blocking my view of them and making me want to push through them to get to her. Which I did.

Meeting her, face-to-face, felt so much more different. She looked as if she was expecting for me to say something, instead I just crushed my lips against her. I knew the familiar taste and feel of her warm mouth against mine. I knew it too well. It reminded me of last night and every other time I had kissed Lyra.