Fuck. That grey puff of smoke follows him everywhere. The scent of cigarettes sticks everywhere, and it always reminds me of him.
But it's not him.
I haven't seen him in six years, but a simple puff of smoke on the London streets takes me back to t...
After a long week of meetings with clients and beginning some work on "At Their Very Best", it is finally 5 pm on Friday and I am free of responsibility. I start packing up to head home, throw on my blazer and headphones and head out.
I hate to admit it, but I can't wait to go out tonight, it's been a while and I feel bad I've ditched Sloane a bit as work picked up, but I've got a feeling tonight is gonna make up for it.
When I get home I start the night early, pouring myself a glass of white wine as I hop into the shower to freshen up before the big night head. Letting the warm water run through my hair, I can't help but feel bubbly and excited about feeling some normalcy in my life again.
I used to go out quite a bit, but it became a sort of an unhealthy coping mechanism, I was going out to ignore my problems and to blackout, I wasn't having fun and it was a terrible cycle. I actually have Sloane to thank for helping me break my habits. She helped me find a therapist, and I've since been in a much better spot mentally. Now, that doesn't go to say I'm not known to toss a couple back, and I definitely plan on making the most of one of my rare nights out.
I hop out of the shower and pour another glass as I start to do my skincare routine. I dance around my bathroom while I get ready, beginning to feel that slight buzz of alcohol, not too much, but just enough to get me out of my head a bit.
After my hair is blown out and my makeup is done, I head to my closet for the hardest part of the evening- picking out an outfit. I usually go for a more casual going out look, who wants to look like a try hard? But, I know the status of Tabu and know if I want to get in without an issue I should probably step my game up a bit tonight.
I know I'm gonna bring my black leather jacket, so I grab that and toss it on the bed. After what felt like hours of trying on outfits and throwing them across the room, I finally settle on black tights, black boots, a black mini skirt, a graphic print baby tee, some sunnies, and of course my tried and true leather jacket.
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I look at the clock and it's already 8:30, so I send Sloane a text letting her know I'm about to leave. I share my location with her just to be safe, and I call an Uber to take me to the club.
The Uber takes about 10 minutes to arrive, so I don't get to Tabu until closer to 9:10, but when we pull up I see Sloane outside the club waving at me. I hop out and give her a quick hug.
"Holy shit you look so hot," she says to me. "Holy shit you look so hot," I reply back. Sloane is wearing a short, black leather dress with leather tights, and her signature red boots.
"Lu, as much as I missed you, god am I ready to get drunk," Sloane says as she grabs my hand and ushers me into the queue to get in. I don't know where Lu came from, but it's always been her nickname for me since we met.
After about a 15 minute wait we finally make it into the club around 9:30, believe it or not that is still considered pretty early so it wasn't overly busy yet. Sloane and I grab a seat at the bar "two red bull vodkas please," she orders.
"And two shots of Bacardi," I offer. She gives me a fake surprised look, but I am ready to see where this night takes us. After we have some drinks I hear my favorite song come on, Ferrari, and I yank Sloane's hand and drag her to the dance floor.
"Fuck! I fuckin' love this song," I scream. The music is so loud, I hear the bass in my chest and the floor rattles with the crowd. I forgot how much I missed this feeling. The insane energy and the vibe of the crowd, no one here cares who you are or what you look like dancing, we're all just here for a good time.
It's been a couple hours and the club is beginning to empty, we should probably head out soon, but I'm not quite ready to walk back out into reality. I hadn't been overly aware of anything besides the music and Sloane, so I take a second to take in my surroundings.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see something strange. It looks almost like a cloud of smoke. There's no way I think to myself, there's no way he would be here. What are the odds? I turn around to see where the smoke is coming from, and there he is and fuck does he look good. Matty Healy is standing not even 10 feet away from me in this club. It's been six years and all it took was one night for shit to hit the wall.
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I'm not hiding the fact I'm staring at him, he turns and his eyes meet mine. Everything around me stops, there's no music, no one else around, just me and him.
His eye contact is magnetic, I can't look away even if I wanted to. He opens his lips and lets his cigarette simply fall onto the floor. Without breaking eye contact, he steps the flame out of his cigarette and I see him start to make his way towards me.
Suddenly I'm completely sober. I turn around and immediately rush towards the exit. This can't be happening, not now. I thought our chapter was closed, the book had ended, but now old wounds are being ripped open all over again.
