No Turning Back (Rewrite)

Chapter 1

I'm going to puke. The chandeliers above my head were twirling, and the smiling faces around me were beginning to blur. Their mouths were moving animatedly, but their words were colliding into each other.

How was your internship at the Capital One Arena?

Are you still teaching lessons at the rec center?

Are you excited about your position as student body President?

When are you going to start applying for college? You're going to apply to Ivy Leagues, right?

When are you going to be named official MVP of the basketball team? You're the only reason they've been making it to the champions!

What happened to that lovely girl you were seeing over the summer?

Their questions hit my ears like bullets. I didn't have time to recover from any of them. Question here. Answer there. Smile now. Laugh then. Fuck, it's hot in here.

I tugged at the collar of my shirt. This tie was choking me. I couldn't breathe. It was too tight. This room was so small. There were too many people. It's so loud. I can't hear what Mr. Goldberg said. Something about basketball again?

He's staring at me with his expectant smile and folded hands. Why is he staring at me like that? I don't like it.

I glanced at my father only to be met with a similar expression. His eyebrow is raised, and his smile is rigid. I'm taking too long to answer. I need to reply. But what was the question?

Oh no. Now everyone at the table is staring at me. They're all waiting. Why? What about his question was so damn important?

I nearly flinch at the touch of my mother's hand on mine.

"Daniel, are you okay?"

I looked away from the blurring faces, the deafening chatter, and the blatant stares. Blinking, I met the concerned frown on my mother's face.

"Yes," I replied. "I just need to use the bathroom." I rose from my seat. "I'll be right back."

My father's eyes bore into my back as I raced into the bathroom. Thankfully, it was empty. I lock the door behind me and stumble towards the sinks. My shaking hands slammed onto the marble counters. The trembles climbed from my hands to my arms, and then ascended to my shoulders. My knees turned into jelly. I held onto the counter for dear life.

"Breathe," I whispered. "Just breathe."

I caught a big breath and held it. One, two, three... The air released in a shaky breath. I silently counted backwards as I took a few more deep breaths. Ten, nine, eight...

Gradually, the trembles in my bones subsided. My tie loosened, and the waterfalls of sweat began to cease. Unfortunately, my nausea doesn't vanish. I still had to go back out there.

At least the night was almost over. Only a half an hour was left of this stupid dinner party. I could do that, right?

I straightened my tie and rolled out my shoulders. Sighing, I painted my signature grin on my lips. The new man in the mirror looked much better than one I saw moments ago. He could take on the abundance of questions and stares and conversations and expectations with ease. I handed him the baton and took a backseat. Slumping into my cozy spot, I watched him stride out of the bathroom and resume the conversation as if he'd never left.

Time seemed to speed up whenever I was on auto-pilot. One moment, I was cracking jokes some of my father's colleagues. The next, I was wrapped in the warm covers of my bed. Sleep didn't wait to take me. At the acknowledgement of the soft cushion under my back, my eyes shut, and my brain wandered off into a world much quieter than the one I'd been consumed by.