alice

03 // pancakes and cigarettes

              dedicated to my whore, kaya for the cover.

                 vincent brought the beer bottle to his lips. he didn't like the taste, it was too sour and too bitter for his likeness, but it would have to do. after all, it was friday and he was still thinking about the girl. he wasn't drunk yet, too early. he needed to finish reading moby dick. his eyes lazily trailed down each line which became a blur with each sip he took, the sour, ghastly liquid touching his lips and making way towards his stomach, his throat burning.

                he could see ezra blowing out puffs of smoke with a cigarette."what kind of name is moby dick?" he asked ezra, grinning. ezra looked at him, his eyebrow raised, "i work in a tattoo parlour, i see enough of that already," he said. vincent shuddered. "you have to tattoo their hoses?" he asked. ezra glumly nodded before vincent broke into laughter, the only thing audible at that time of the night.

                  "that's gross. that's really gross" vincent said. ezra rolled his eyes. "do you want some more beer?" he offered. vincent took the bottle from him, his breath reeked of beer. "might as well, ez. have you written anything on that essay topic?" he asked. his breathing was heavy and his eyes were clogged up with water.

                    "the one about life's biggest mistake? the one that counts for sixty per cent grade?" ezra asked him, vincent nodded. they were sitting in an awkward position on a hill, vincent was laying down and ezra was sitting up. the wind howled in their ears and the stadium lights blinded them. but as stated before, it was friday night. 

            "yeah. what was your life's biggest mistake?" vincent asked. "okay, hang on, brainstorm. we're going to tell a story on this. the worst storyteller needs to finish off this bottle," vincent said, shaking the almost-full bottle in ezra's face. "my life's biggest mistake is probably sitting here with you trying to tell a story," ezra said. vincent nudged him.

           "okay, i'll go first. my worst mistake was july 17, 1998, when i was what? seven? yeah. me and my sister were going through our baby pictures when there was a picture of me screaming. my sister was, eh, four at that time and she asked me what i was doing. i said i was uttering the gospell chant. i made that up, okay? and she said she wanted to do it too. i was an evil child, so i told her in order for the chant to work she was supposed to walk on the furry rug carpet with inky blue feet. and she did just that. and then my father beat me up."

           "that is messed up, dude," ezra said. vincent grinned. "okay, my turn. the worst mistake of my life was drawing a naked woman on a fat guy's arm, i was drunk, plus, he kept saying 'something horror' and 'horror' sounds like whore. i was drunk."

       "that was a horrible story, drink up the bottle now. we aren't going to write that in the paper, are we?" vincent asked. "guess not," ezra answered, bringing the bottle to his lips. "it's easy for you. you can write shit about philosophy because you read all them books," ezra said 

           "yeah, but you're smart too," vincent said. he looked over to see ezra had fallen asleep and was snoring in an uncanny way. he'd be horribly hungover the next day just like vincent. vincent felt drunk too, horribly. when suddenly, out of nowhere, he heard a cigarette being lit up. 

           it was the flick of a lighter and deep, steady inhaling.

          perhaps he was hallucinating, that's what beer did to him, anyway. from a distance, in the lit stadium, he could see a silhouette. long hair tumbled down towards the waist and the moonlight lit up her fair skin. the way she brought up the cigarette to her lips, it looked strangely enticing, he could make out her eyes darken with each puff of smoke. and then he realized. it was her.

         he staggered his way over to her, his dark hair wet with sweat. he was already half-drunk and perhaps the world made no sense to him then. in the darkness, he grabbed some grass, steadying himself and sat beside her.

         the world was full of silence except the sound of her inhaling her cigarette. 

      "do you want a cigarette?" she spoke, suddenly, her voice was alarmingly soft and sweet, like sweet tea on a cold winter day. 

          he made out her features in the dark, her eyes were big and brown and her lips were pink and full. he could see the tiny bumps, freckles. he was distracedly comparing her to what he kept seeing. "no, i don't smoke," he replied, his voice was calm but she could make out the trail of weariness that followed.

           "have we met before?" she asked him. yes, they had. hadn't she seen his face? he'd asked her, for pity's sake! a million answers flooded his mind. yes, a week ago. yeah, you ignored me. yes, i wish we could've talked. you looked strange in the rain. i've dreamt of you. it feels like i've known you for years. "no," he replied, shrugging. "i come here often," she replied, not looking at him. she smelled of pancakes and cigarettes and her hair clung to the sides of her face, the moonlight accentuated her features and to put it simple, she looked beautiful. "i'm here the first time, my friend ezra dragged me along here," he replied.

           "i'm alice," she said. alice, he tried out the name and liked the sound of it. "i'm vincent," he replied, even though alice was the simplest of names, vincent felt ordinary and boring compared to it. "starry starry night vincent?" she asked, jokingly. "you've heard the song?" he asked her, feeling strangely comfortable. "i don't like it. don mclean sounds puny" she said, laughing.

        his skinny shadow stood bold in the lights. "do you want a cigarette?" she asked again. he wondered if she'd forgotten the fact that he didn't smoke. she handed him a marlboro packet which he had no intention of smoking. but right there, it seemed right. 

          he gingerly took out a thin cigarette. the pack had the quote smokers die young on it. "do you have some booze?" she asked him, looking at him for the first time. "not really, i had a bottle but ezra drank it up," he said. she looked away, her nose wrinkled, "boy, starry starry night vincent, your breath smells, you're drunk," she said, chuckling a little.

           he went red. she could make out the blush on his cheeks and she pinched one of them. "you're blushing," she said. not in that cooing way but a bit more plainly. it felt nice. at least, to vincent. "aren't you going to smoke that?" she asked. 

         she brought her lighter close towards the cigarette and lit it. vincent nervously brought it to his lips, took a deep breath and gagged, coughed, spluttered and basically looked like an idiot sprawling on the grass. alice was laughing, the sides of her eyes crinkled, it was a wonderful thing to see her laugh but vincent was still regaining his stability.

           "oh dear," she said, wiping away a tear from her eye. "this is disgusting," vincent said, alice laughed again and thumped him on his back, "i hope i didn't hurt you, skinny boy," she said, looking at him. he didn't want to admit it but it did hurt, a bit. "you're kind of cute, starry," she added. blowing a puff of smoke forcefully into the night sky.

             and his heart stopped beating, figuratively. she'd called him cute.

okay so yeah comment it's all about the COMMENTS IT'S IN FREAKING ITALICS OKAY bye ily all.