Daniel Howell Imagines

Dirty Bathroom Floors

A/N: so a little while ago I wrote a lil something called "Sometime Around Midnight" and I wrote that after an experience I had in a club with an ex boyfriend, so I thought I would write about the entire story that happened, from beginning to end.

(also quick note, I wanna apologize if this seems a bit boring. It is an actual experience and this is how the events actually played out. I don't think I've ever written anything as personal and as real as this, so please, bear with me)

Genre: angst (soz im a mess)

Song(s) used: none but I got the title from a line in '100 letters' by Halsey 🙌

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: swears, sad thoughts, alcohol, the usual.

Your P.O.V

Someone once told me that you haven't lived life until you've cried on a dirty bathroom floor in a club because of an ex. I suppose I never knew how significant that would be to my life.

I would call it your typical Saturday night for anyone that is legally allowed to drink and who doesn't have work the next day; and typically I've never been one to drown my sorrows in alcohol, but I guess there's a first time for everything.

Life had really been feeling like a drag lately. It just seemed I was living just be alive, it didn't really feel like I had a purpose for anything. Typically also living paycheck to paycheck but I couldn't really complain about that, as I could also be homeless.

So here's the story,

My friends had noticed how down I was about life, and decided it was time for me to let my hair down and to 'destress' as they said. But I had initially decided to tag along for the fun of being able to drink away the stress and let myself go for a little while, because that's what being out with friends is about, having fun with them.

"Here's to a fun night!" My best friend shouted as we clinked our glasses of alcohol together. This was the "pre drinks" portion of the night, and it was around 7pm. We were all dolled up drinking hard liquor, getting ourselves prepared for a hard night of partying.

"I'm glad your coming out with us (y/n)! I feel like I never see you anymore" one of my friends whispered to me as they stood beside me, sipping on their drink. It was true. I've been so consumed with work, stress and trying to become a human burrito that I never once really considered hanging out with my friends. I simply gave my friend a smile and muttered a sincere apology.

Now, this is where it gets to the dramatic part. Like any good story or movie, there's always gotta be a climax, and this is it. The point in the story where everything basically starts turning to shit.

It was around 11:30pm, and we were finally in the club. And to be honest, I felt more alive right then, than I had in the past two months. My friends and I had done a few rounds of shots and all of the alcohol i had consumed in the night had started clouding and fogging up my mind.

I felt like I was on the edge of life, living it like I've never lived life before. Feeling as though I was unstoppable and nothing could get in my way.

But I guess my glory was quite short lived; because I heard a familiar obnoxious sounding voice.

It's not a voice that's easily mistaken, because of the posh accent he has.

It was my ex boyfriend, Daniel; or Dan as people liked to call him.

My stomach immediately sunk and I felt like my heart was about to jump out of chest and onto the dirty dance floor that my feet stood upon.

My eyes follow his silhouette across the room, hoping to god we don't make eye contact.

'Fuck he's here with his girlfriend.' I more or less thought to myself. But luckily my friends hadn't noticed him yet; because between the alcohol and their need to protect the people they love, shit would have gone downhill.

I tried to keep myself hidden behind my friends as well as groups of strangers, and I watched as both Dan and his girlfriend made their way to the bar. I watched as he averted his gaze from the bartender, to his girlfriend, and then unfortunately, I watched as his head looks around this busy club, over to where I was standing, or well hiding.

Our eyes met and in that moment, I knew my night had been fucked up and ruined. The expression on Dans face, basically mirrored my thoughts. It's almost as if we're both here for the same reason and right now we're in the same boat.

I looked away as soon as I could and downed the rest of the drink I had in my hands, and turned back to my friends, pretending I was listening to the whole conversation the whole time.

Not even one minute later, myself and all of my friends walk back up to the bar to order the respective drinks we wanted, when I saw it in the corner of my eye.

Maybe about two meters away, was Dan and his girlfriend making out, basically eating off each other's faces. It's almost like he wanted me to see it no matter how grotesque it was.

I guess in that moment, in all of the haze of the alcohol I had drank, my emotions were all over the place.

It felt as though my chest was tightening, my heart beating against my chest, roughly and fast; my stomach in knots as well as tears starting to pool into my eyes.

My best friend had started to notice my erratic behavior as she asked what was wrong. But I couldn't answer. My mind was just so focused on what had happened right in front of me, that the only thing I could do in that moment, was run for cover; in the bathroom.

Crying on dirty bathroom floors hasn't really been something I'm unfamiliar with, as i found myself crying on dirty bathroom floors quite a lot in the past year, but I never thought i would be crying over the same boy.

And for this particular situation, I had no idea how to feel, and what I was allowed to feel.

Was I angry?

Sad?

Disappointed?

Disgusted?

Anguished?

All of the above?

Was I even allowed to be feeling those feelings anymore?

Did he do that just to spite me? Because I know Dan, and I know his personality wouldn't change the drastically. He's not usually one for PDA so seeing him sucking off her face was an unusual sight, even if there was alcohol involved.

All of my friends followed me into the bathroom shortly after, and coaxed me into telling them what had happened. But I don't know if I want to.

It's not because I don't want them to find out Dan was here with his girlfriend and they were literally eating each others faces off, but because that means I have to relive what I saw, in the form of words; and in my drunken emotional state, I don't think my mind could handle that.

So I guess it's true. You haven't really lived life if you haven't cried on a dirty bathroom floor of a club because of an ex. But it's not something worth living for. And it's something I hope I never have to witness again.