The Morning After

Strangers

6/19 1:05 AM
At this point in the night I was used to the strangers; Caesar knew virtually everyone, and thus we were constantly being approached by both friends and "clients"of his. However it wasn't until Nathan that any particularly caught my eye.
Tall with lanky arms and dark hair, he found us in Caesar's car shortly after the acquisition of the molly. They were friends, close enough that Caesar offered to share what he had, and I found myself packaged tightly between him and Bea, although surprisingly this is not when we got to know each other.
I had assured myself I would not participate in any drug use during my time at the gathering, but when facing the people I so desperately wanted to understand, I forewent my former promise and accepted my portion of the white substance from Caesar's outstretched hand.
Molly, although a powder, is not something to be snorted, much to my relief; though I'm unsure when looking back that licking it out of Caesar's hand was really an improvement.
The taste was shockingly bitter, and the drug itself so dry it stuck in my throat, desperation reached its peak as I washed it down with a shot of vodka from a passerby, but I was already fading, excited once again about the night before me, too elated to have time to question my choices.
We did not wait to spill out of Caesar's car and back into the parking lot, by then feeling the pre-roll affects.
I have no recollection of crossing the street or going back into the official gathering site, nor do I recall how long we danced before this moment, but I do see flashes, my curly hair whipping in hot, tangled mess around my face, pale and dark skin alike illuminated by the black lights, each person glowing as if they were in their own orbit. I remember floating, my feet going numb as my body seemed to become intermixed with those around me; we moved together, harmoniously and desperately, determined to dance until fatigue plagued us.
Occasionally I would see Caesar or Nathan move erratically past me, or be prompted by Tate to drink- hydration being key. But mostly I could focus only on what was exactly before me- the music and the people, my former anxieties thrust out of my forethought.
Eventually, I found myself knocked out of the harmonious movement, wrist in possession of Caesar as he guided me with Tate and Nathan outside. Bea had long since disappeared; no doubt in the company of Cain, and as they explained to me it was our time to move on, I was sent on the mission to locate and retrieve her.
Persuading Bea to leave a party sober was a task on its own, however with the added factor of a spinning mind and unstable feet, I was almost certain it was a suicide mission. As I weaved my way back through the crowd I couldn't help but become conscious of the fact that no longer was I aiding the blend of bodies, but in fact breaking them apart, ruining the illusion.
Finally, as I wandered through the mass of bodies I spotted her familiar stature and movement- her habit of perpetually swaying finally making itself useful. I wound my way to her, and with some persuasion, and a plea not to shoot the messenger I managed to convince her to follow me back to Caesar and the group.
How or why I don't remember, but soon we were on our way from the gathering. Caesar was driving, which was expected, with Tate still inhabiting the front seat, this left me, Bea, and Nathan crammed together in the back as if were were poorly packaged produce, not to mention because of my small stature I was stuck with the brunt of it, the middle seat.
The drive was quiet, save for Tate's periodic calls of directions. Fatigued and sweaty, we pressed together like lovers as Caesar drove towards our next destination. The drug was in full effect as we sat in reverence of how we felt, each of use stuck in silence as we worshipped the experience. Tate was seemingly the only one not entirely lost in her mind, instead vibrantly illustrating the night she had ahead of her as we prepared to leave her with her boyfriend.
I was almost surprised that she had not yet coupled with Caesar, however by this point I was beginning to understand that there is a difference between romantic love and amicable love; and though they clearly loved each other, it was not in the attraction of two paramours.
When we left Tate we stopped only to get out and stretch our legs as she practically skipped into her boyfriend's home, and as she disappeared for the last time that night it was Caesar who suggested we brace ourselves against the harsh chill of the night and walk through the suburban neighborhood before continuing our trek down the mountain.
As we walked I continued my newfound practice of being an onlooker in conversations, choosing to absorb their words rather than try to interject with my own.
The sole vivid memory I've retained is Caesar peering curiously at me as he stated he never would have imagined me to be as open minded as I was. I simply nodded to this, and decided it was better not to tell him I was as surprised at myself as he was.
It was 3:24 am when we rounded the final corner and again amassed in the white car.
A/N
Hey guys, it's currently 2:33 am and I'm sitting on a train with six more hours of travel left to face, meaning I wrote this in the middle of the night, on my cellphone, in a very distractible environment. Typical.
Anyway, I totally didn't proofread, so feel free to point out any blatant errors, and keep me in your thoughts as I continue to be thrown around like luggage.
Thanks for reading, like, really.