Part 1: Hello, My name is Anxiety

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The most awkward thing about the situation is that technically, they met in the toilets. Ideally, of course, it's not a big deal, but when people would ask, it just makes for an awkward conversation. I guess not everyone finds the idea of toilets to be particularly romantic, much like perhaps telling people you've found the love of your life on a dating app, because it doesn't make the story flowery.

But Jennie isn't much for flowery, at least not for her own stories anyway. But if we're going there, maybe we can say that toilets are poetic. Sure, you go there to pee and maybe even the occasional drunk vomits, but if anything, toilets are your easy escape to breathe.

And tonight, that's exactly what she was doing – breathing. Jennie believes herself to be relatively a mid-energy person: someone who can enjoy randomness but going to clubs with loud noise thumping through her heart isn't exactly her thing. It's good that the place her friends picked was relatively tame compared to the clubs they used to go to, but sitting there and listening and watching everyone just talk loudly at the same time – while she enjoys them, can take a toll on her sometimes.

So for the fifth time since they arrived tonight, the brunette propped her hands on the resto bar's impressively dry and strong slab of toilet sink and just took deep breaths to clear her head. They've been there for about two hours now and her friends are not showing signs of stopping, so she estimates she's going to be babysitting the bunch and will be the group's token sober driver tonight.

She closed her eyes, pacing her breathing. She heard the sound of the flushing of the toilet and realised she's not alone. She then picked up the tapping of a few soft steps and the sound of tap water running beside her. She tightened her eyes shut, willing the sounds to disappear in the background.

"Tough night?" She heard a soft voice to her left. It didn't sound familiar so she figured it must be some random stranger. It's a good thing she's in the ladies' room as she would have hated to dodge another random drunk guy's small talk that she inadvertently finds herself in whenever she's in bars.

Without opening her eyes, she nodded. She heard the sound of the tap being closed. The stranger must be finishing up, so Jennie partly felt a little relief, maybe she can relax in peace? She heard a few soap pump noises then the sound of slick hands rubbing. She sighed. Nah, definitely not finished.

"Must suck being the only sober one in the group."

Jennie's ears twitched at the stranger's comment. Not now.

"Why, what's wrong with being sober?" Jennie fired back, a little annoyed and perhaps a tad bit defensive. She normally isn't always snarky, but there's just those nights where you feel like you'd rather not be judged, especially when all you're doing is getting a breather.

"Oh, don't get me wrong. Being sober is nice. If you can get through a night and have fun without needing alcohol, then that just says so much about your capability to enjoy without needing vices. That's good."

Jennie heard the tap run again. The woman's voice increased a little, trying to talk over the strong force of the tap. "But when your senses are dulled, a lot of the elements of a bar become muted, so staying in for hours can be easier. Doesn't always work for those who have been just guzzling water and would be sitting through the noise with all your senses alert."

Okay, maybe she meant well, Jennie thought. She opened her eyes and checked the stranger, immediately kind of regretting snapping at her. The tall blonde looked waifish in her soft, slightly tattered oversized white shirt tucked in her fitted jeans and boots, but apart from that nothing else screams waifish about her – in fact, her face looked immaculate, with her long lashes slightly brushing on her cheeks as her eyes intently looked at her own hands rinsing through the tap, her sheer-tinted lips in a small pout. Her cheeks, while accented by her sharp jaws, looked so soft to touch. Jennie felt this impulse to almost brush the blonde's few strands of hair that found itself lost in front of her face.

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