The Choosing [First 3 Chapters]

1. The Guy At The Bar

Andrea is already tipsy and we're only halfway through her bachelorette bar-crawl. I warned her to pace herself. That girl never listens. Her   full lips are spread in a wide grin over perfect white teeth. She's   strutting down Trent Street like some celebrity with her posse hanging   off my shoulders. Andrea's about 5' 3" with caramel skin and bright hazel   eyes. Her dark brown locks are plaited to her scalp and jeweled with  gold  beads where they hang in braids down to her waist.

Whitney striding beside  her, flips her long golden blonde tresses over one creamy white   freckle-free shoulder and sighs "Where we goin' Mads? Cuz jus' walkin' down the street blows.", her serious tone offsets her cerulean   eyes filled with mirth.

"Hey, this is Andrea's   night. I guess she thought we all needed a workout", I joke.   Whitney winks at me and snickers. Andrea ignores us.

"Come on girls, y'all   needa hurry up and get liquored up! This bachelor party better be beast!   Not like your ratchet party Nene!", she yells back at Nene, Mihwa, and  Kendra ambling behind us.

Kendra's real name is   Concepcion Maria Iluminada Vega. Concepcion is a family name, but she   picked a new first name for herself in the 5th grade for obvious   reasons. Kids are mean! Kendra was the name of a local girl band   we followed at the time, and she decided to go with that. She's a slim   5' 5", with freckled ivory skin, currently sporting wavy, pink-streaked   lavender hair, cropped in an asymmetrical bob. It changes frequently  and  I honestly don't remember what the original color was. Hmmm. I'll have to check my yearbooks later.

Nene scoffs at her in   mock anger and cries, "Umm, I'm soooo sorry my broke behind can't afford   to fly down to South 'Liquordale' to get drunk like your rich butt! So   shut it ho!".

Mihwa thrusts her head back and chuckles loudly at the exchange while Kendra whisper-yells, "Oh my god! Claws out tonight!".

I simply smile and laugh to myself. I love my crazy friends.

Andrea suddenly removes her arm from my shoulders and sprints down the street past the train tracks.

"HURRY UP HOS!", she calls as she runs. I chase after her and the rest of the girls follow.

She continues running   all the way from the ritzy area where we began our night to the rundown,   less populated part of town. She slows down and stops in front of a   country-themed bar.

This part of the strip   was built back in the 50s and looks barely maintained. The building is a   one-story row of connected shops with a flat roof and barred, tinted   windows so you can't peek in. It has that old brick veneer that's been   patched and re-patched with different shades of beige, gray, and rust   red.

As we chase Andrea down  the street we pass a pawnshop, a  liquor store, and an army-navy  surplus. The shops are closed for the night being  that it's 1 am, but  there's a country at the end of the block where Andrea comes to a halt.  The bar's neon sign buzzes 'open' and Kenny  Chesney's 'Til It's Gone'  is blasting out the doorway as a group of  people enter it.

"What are we? Slumming   it?", mouths Whitney in my direction. I shrug. "Are we even on the strip  now? And eww! Country?", she continues her complaining aloud.

"This place is super chill and they have a late-night karaoke here tonight so we're going.", Andrea commands.

"And it's not eww! I   love country!", I add. I really do love it. Country music always reminds   me of riding in my dad's pickup as a kid.

"Plus its karaoke, it's   not like you have to sing a country song, you just have to pick from  the  book. Quit bein' a whiner." Nene sticks out her tongue and I  chuckle.