Bright Horizon - Ashton Irwin au

¤Chapter 1¤

The heavy bass is pounding in my head. The dense air, the sour smell of sweat, and the feeling of bodies bumping against mine. I can't breathe. I'm suffocating in the atmosphere. I need to get outside, now!

My hand is shaking as I reach for the handle on the front door but I pull it open and I'm immediately hit by the cool, damp night air. Supporting myself on a parked car I stumble to the front gates of the massive house, from where I can see the city below. I breathe in. And out. And then I lean forward and empty my stomach right there in the driveway, one hand on my thigh and one still holding on to the bars of the gates.

I try to spit the grim taste out of my mouth before I stand back up. Head resting between two bars, facing the stars, deep breaths.

Looking at my surroundings I notice someone else standing with his back against the gate. The silhouette of his upturned nose hugging the moon in the sky, clouds of smoke tumbling from his lips before he takes another drag. Man, I'm too drunk for this party.

He notices me staring and gives me a questioning look.

"You want one?" He takes out the pack of cigarettes.

"No thanks, I don't smoke", I say, reaching for the pack in his outstretched hand.

"Yeah, neither do I".

"I can tell".

"Normally... ". He looks down and bites his lip before taking the cigarette between his teeth while looking for his lighter, handing it to me. "... Today has been a rough one though".

"Ah". And before I can stop myself, "Wanna talk about it? I find talking to strangers much easier than talking to friends".

"Yeah?"

I nod.

"And why is that then?" There is not a line on his face as he furrows his eyebrows and his hazel eyes look directly into my blue ones. The feeling makes me dizzy, or maybe it's that I'm still blind drunk on a, now, empty stomach.

"Hm?" I haven't answered his question yet, being too focused on making the world stop spinning so I instead can focus on him looking at me.

"oh, erm, I guess I just like that they don't know anything about me and they never will so there is nothing in it for them in spilling the beans on me, you know." I purse my lips, feeling stupid for even starting this conversation in the first place.

"But then they can't help you as well either." He keeps eye contact. It's almost too intense but I don't look away. Not until I realize he's derailing the conversation.

"Weren't we supposed to be talking about your day?"

At that, he looks away. He takes a step closer to the gate and away from me. He crosses his arms when he spoke, "I don't know if I have the same view as you." But I have already lost my focus, thinking about how I need a place to sit or I might be sick again.

So I ask him, "the same view on what?" he chuckles lightly and takes a step closer.

"Are you sure you're fine?" He asks. He reaches for my arm to steady me as I sway lightly, trying to not fall as I take a seat on the gravel in the driveway. He takes a seat opposite me and I lay down on my back. My clothes getting wet and dirty is the last thing on my mind and I close my eyes, focusing on the damp smell in the air.

"So, basically..." he breaks the minutes-long silence. His cigarette has gone out and I never lit mine but I still have his lighter, so I light it and throw the lighter in his general direction. The fresh air is immediately, wonderfully corrupted.