One Shots

Fate's Strings

I whip my head back and forth along to the music, feeling my sweaty hair sticking to my face every time it makes contact. My arms rise above my head, feeling along my body as I let the groove of the music take over. I jump up and down, side to side, in circles, every which way imaginable.

For once in my life, I don't care what people think of me. I focus on myself. I focus on the music and the way my body moves to the beat. I focus on just dancing, like no one's watching. I focus on having fun. Because damnit. I need fun for once. Instead of worrying about everyone else's troubles, and worries, and fears, and anxieties, I want to focus on my own feelings.

And right now, I feel like I need another drink.

I bob my head and dance my way through the crowded area. Occasionally throwing out some air drums with some classic lip-syncing-into-the-fist moves. Aka the perfect pretend microphone when you don't have a hair brush on you. Or any other cylinder-like object.

I make it to the bar and order the first thing I think of.

"I'll take a few shots of tequila please."

Hey, your 21st birthday isn't something you just let happen. You gotta make it happen. And tonight....I was fucking making it happen.

The bartender looks at me skeptically and I raise an eyebrow at him. "Yes?" I ask politely, a slight edge to my voice.

He clears his throat and is about to speak when he's (thankfully) interrupted by a random, yet familiar, voice.

"Kyla?" I turn my head in the direction the sound came from. My vision was a bit blurry from the alcohol but surprisingly, I'm not too drunk yet. Just a bit tipsy. I guess I'm not as much of a lightweight as everyone thought I would be. I mentally scoff at that. Not like anyone actually cares considering no one's here.

So much for "never leaving you" and "we love you" and "we'll always be here for you" and any other fucking 'heartfelt' promise like that.

Yay, cheers for being alone on your birthday. *clink*

I mentally roll my eyes at the sarcastic self-toasting I just did in my head and refocus on my task.

As I'm searching, my eyes land on a friendly face.

A small smile forms on my lips and I wave him over, "Landon?" I call out over the chaos.

"Hey! Funny seeing you here, you don't strike me as a tequila person." Landon said thoughtfully as his eyes wandered over to the line of shots I now have.

I mean I can't blame him, I definitely don't like the taste but when your friends all ditch you on your birthday....well, let's just say tequila becomes your new best friend.

I chuckle bitterly, "Whelp the situation chooses the drink I guess." I meant it as joke, but it came out way more bitter than intended.

Landon studies me for a second before he picks up on the fact I don't want to talk about it.

"So, I see you're old enough to drink now. How many years have I missed??" I laugh at him and roll my eyes.

"Landon. Your only five years older than me. Don't make it sound like so much more!" He laughs and bumps my shoulder with his.

"You gonna answer my question then? You know, bring it to my attention you're no longer a young, innocent teenager?" He winks at me and I notice his eyes briefly check me out before he clears his throat and turns his attention elsewhere.

I blush and laugh to get rid of the butterflies in my stomach. "First of all. I was never innocent." I throw in a wink for fun and I'm about to continue until, "No, I guess you weren't." He interjects with a suggestive undertone. There goes the butterflies again damnit. I clear my throat and continue my point, "And you only missed four years, which isn't that long if you look at it in the perspective of how long life actually is." I smirk at him and give him a pointed look.