I expected him to take me home; maybe that was my problem, expecting him to do something as obvious as wanting to go home. However, instead of taking the familiar direction, he decided he'd completely turn the opposite direction and take us to a place he's obviously familiar with, contrasting my knowledge.
Instead of dwelling on my own feelings, contemplating about the events that occurred not even three hours ago, I'm seated in a rather uncomfortable chair surrounded my alcoholics who know not what decency, respect is.
The moment we came in — mind me, by force, but nonetheless I guess one might say I had a choice; it was either sir in the car until he is ready to leave, or go inside and kill time until he's ready to leave — I can only name about two males who, despite their obvious mannerism and considering the stench of alcohol and weed in the air, went out of their way to greet me. Not by name, but still, they acknowledged my presence.
For certain, I was and still am a sore thumb sticking out in this room filled with ratchet (and I use this word loosely) humans acting like they've never been outdoors before. The music is beyond loud, I think I feel an oncoming headache, not one cup is clean so I have been refusing any drink that has been passed my way, and despite my hunger, I don't trust the pizza places not too far from where I'm sat.
I can't bring myself to get up and eat it.
I know Tsiamo is a popular person. Don't get me wrong, he cleans up well and evidently, so do his friends when it comes to personal hygiene. You wouldn't say this room is filled with dirty men and babes, though, based on their behaviour and the constant passing around of alcohol and drugs, it's very much obvious that this, all this, is done behind closed doors.
They clean up well enough for people to think and only think that they are neat, respectable and respectful, don't drink unless elegantly so.
In the midst of it is Tsiamo. Laughing about, pulling in huffs and puffs of what sparks his boldness beyond what I'm used to, what sparks is loudness. I guess I could smile and find glee at the fact that he doesn't necessarily entertain the girl sitting besides him, perhaps out of respect for me and our relationship. This is his environment, this is what he's comfortable with, yet me on the other hand, I'd do much rather sit at home and drown in silence or something.
This isn't my way of unwinding. Binge watching and overeating is.
The moment they light up another joint, I find the courage to get up and excuse myself, walking out the entire house and into the small parking lot, greedily sucking in clean air until I feel somewhat sane. My arms wrap around my lower torso, eyes gazed up at the night sky and twinkling stars here and there.
Within moments, I turn my attention to the sound of two males coming out, drink in their hands as they laugh about at whatever entertains them. The one, taller and with neat dreads hanging over his forehead and eyes, closes the door before the two walk down the drive way, closer towards me, though the other — buzz cut and wearing all-black — notices my stagnant being against Tsiamo's vehicle.
Their chattering stops the closer they get, both at some point ensuring their attention is on me. Dreads takes a swig of his alcohol, chuckling at the mutter of buzz cut.
"Sorry," he, the guy with the buzz cut, smiles at me the very second they stand more or less close to me. "It's a bit chilly to be standing outside, don't you think? Why not wait inside for your Uber?"
"Eh, but you are more than welcome to come with us? We can take you home." Dreads throws in, his occupied hand points to one of the cars parked. "We're just about heading out."
"I'm fine, thanks."
"You sure? The party inside isn't going to end for at least another two hours."
I shake my head, forging a smile in hopes to humbly encourage them. "Really, I'm good."
