Resculpturing Her

2. All Aboard The Party Train

I am clenching my hand around my cup to ensure that it will not slip from me as my body is in a depressant state of relaxation. I am swaying my body along with the beat of the House music. Every drop of the bass was vibrating my body and I could feel my nostrils shaking every time I breathe in air. I guess I was too close to the speaker. But, I just loved this sensation from the music. I was trying to keep my vision fixed on the DJ so I would not feel dizzier from the lights that were giving a show all across the club. 

I felt my hand was cold from the ice inside the cup I was holding. Honestly, I did not feel like holding this anymore. I placed the glass up to my lips, allowing the alcohol to dance onto my tongue and slide down my throat. Most people hate it, but damn, do I love the taste. I continued to finish the rest of the contents inside my cup before placing the cup at a random table in the club. Hope the people who reserved the table don't mind.

I returned to dance with the music, this time distancing myself a little farther from the speaker. I think the alcohol is really starting to hit me now, judging by how my vision has become way too unsteady for my liking. I look around the room and fixate onto the lights. Oo...Pretty lights. I smiled to myself at the way the lights drew patterns across the room. Ugh, that was a mistake because staring at them is fucking me up. 

I should find the demon dog so she can take me home before I either do something really stupid or decide to drink more and black out. I pushed my way through the crowd. Ew. Hate how some people sweat so much. I kept probing my way between people before finally reaching away from the dance floor, where there are significantly less people.

I searched around the room carefully, trying to see where Joanna is situated. There she is. At least I hope that is her. She is seated on a bar stool at the bar with her back turned to me and her long dark hair falling down her back, stopping a few inches above her waist. Pfft. How is she claiming to take care of me when she's busy focused on the bar. 

I attempted to walk in her direction. Key word: Attempted. My legs were apparently not agreeing. I would take a few steps then find my right leg going on an adventure in a different direction. 

Fuck sake guys, work with me! I mentally scolded my legs looking down at them to see my tight black ripped jeans hugging my lower body. 

OK. Attempt number 2! You got this. I took a few steps closer to the dark haired girl and succeeded. Good job. Good job. I scanned over the girl with her back to me to confirm that is indeed Joanna. It might seem silly but I did not want my drunk self to walk up to weird randos. Or would I be the weird rando? Anyway, that's how I would know who I came with for sure, by memorizing their outfit for the day. Joanna was wearing beige dress pants that flared at the bottom and a baby pink lace button up shirt. 

Affirmative. That is what the girl is wearing, but like who even dresses like that to a club. Now that I am sure, I need to make my way to her without my legs going tipsy daisy in another direction. I took cautious steps towards Joanna, which felt like I was using up all the mental power I had left to work in coordination. As I was approaching her; 

Of-fucking-course. I trip over my own feet and stumble slightly onto her: using my hand to grip around her shoulder for stability. She instantly turned around with an annoyed expression on her face; her azure blue eyes piercing into my drowsy ones. I guess she realized it was me as the annoyed expression was soon replaced with a smirk.

The fuck you smirking for?

"This isn't the way I was expecting you to fall for me." Joanna said, her eyes looking playful. 

I ignored her witty remark. "Take me home." I demanded.

She laughed at me "I don't understand why you come clubbing if you always get drunk within the first two hours then go home."