Our Forever

after hours; i don't wanna be alone again (part one)

After Hours; a story that dives deep into the textures of pleasure, despair, and how we consciously distance ourselves from our interiors.

How two humans can be different, and subconscious to their nights.

This story is created from the leveraging a self-loathing villain into an irresistible, almost cinematic narrative with Lisa's most guilty needs.

Lisa wants Jennie to reconcile the sinner she once was with the woman Lisa is trying to become.

And, Lisa may not be the dysfunctional addict of her past, but she's also not willing to be the partner a woman might need her to be.

So, how will the nights change Lisa?

"Take off my disguise, I'm living someone else's life".

Lisa

Inside the crowded club- I stare at the bodies dancing on the dance floor. My head gets clouded up by the alcohol inside of my system-- the flashing lights were blinding me from staying sober. I can feel someone pull my hand and immediately, I smile.

I smile at the night and at the broken pieces inside my heart that I had to step over every time, by doing the wrong thing.

Others would blame it on fame but to me, It was a puzzling clarity, to dance with a broken heart not caring who's here.

Inside the club it was like dancing on the Northern Lights; as beneath the dry-ice smoke swirled an array of blues, acid greens, hot pinks, and gold.

The music played over the dance floor as if had fused with the bodies. As the others danced around me, I was trying not to clumsily fall.

I've been living the perfect life that anyone can think of-- But, they were all fooled by my peculiar smile. The perfect symphony my body carries through every night. But, aren't humans just fools?

With each poised stride I took, it became so obvious just how demanding and rigorously punishing the practice of this sequence had been on my body. Being a professional dancer can be exhausting, but trust me.

Dancing with high heels is even worse.

At the end of the night, the dance floor was like an abused chessboard.

On it's black and white squares were spilled drinks and broken glass. With the lights up for clean up the whole scene that had seemed so exciting and sexual only minutes before now had all the ambiance of a dirty place.

Filthy and hungry-- were the ones among the crowd.

I can feel myself getting carried with the night-- with the motion of the person in front of me.

My eyes are met with a beautiful shade of brown, but with the alcohol in my system. I barely had the vision to make out who it is.

But strangers, aren't we all just strangers looking for the right moment to love somebody?