Madferit

And What's a Wonderwall Anyway?

            I don't know how I did it. I don't know how I got past the guard at the gate. The chick with the clipboard marking names off as people stepped up to see if theirs was on the list.

I just snuck in. She was too busy gobbing to notice me do it. Too busy chatting up one of the many famous faces stood there on that step. I wasn't one of them yet there I was mixed right in with the rest.

The house was as big on the inside as it was on the outside. Loud music vibrated off the walls decorated with pictures of the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, the Who, and all the other artists I'd grown to love over the years as well as some I didn't.

I strolled through crowd eyeing all the fancy furniture and other décor. It was shiny and sparkly polished up by some housekeeper I'm sure.

"Ee-arr!" A voice called making me gasp.

I turned around and my eyes widened at who the voice belonged to.

His hair was long, dark, and shaggy. Almost down to his shoulders. His thick eyebrows matched his hair color and curled a bit in confusion over top of his electric, blue eyes. "Ya look lost." He told me.

"Well I'm not." I assured him.

"Well ya look like y'are."

"Well I'm not."

"Well ya-"

"This dance is getting kinda old."

He snickered. "I bet you can't even dance!"

"I bet I can dance better than you!" I shot back.

"Alright. Prove it." He challenged crossing his arms.

I stepped forward and dipped down a bit before bringing my hands up and flipping him off.

He chuckled even louder than before.

"Now it's your turn." I nodded.

"Nope." He shook his head. "I don't dance but if I did I'd do it a hell of a lot better than that. C'mon!" He waved me to follow him.

"Where are we going?" I asked curiously.

"Out for a smoke. It's dead stuffy in here."

"But what about your party?" I followed him through the crowded corridor.

He shook his head. "It's not my party."

The cool night air caressed my face with a gentle kiss as soon as we stepped outside. Everything was much quieter now the music was muffled by the closed front door.

"Come along!" He instructed as he headed down the sidewalk.

I kept up right behind him until we ended up in a park not too far from the house. It was a lovely patch of green in the middle of a bunch of concrete.

He found a park bench and sat down on it. He tapped the empty section of it next to him as a cue for me to take a seat beside him.

I did just that feeling the cold hard metal against my jeans.

"So what brings you to London?" He inquired lighting the cigarette between his lips.

"How do you know I'm not from London?" I asked watching the tip of his cigarette ignite that orange glow.