sick of losing soulmates | gxg | dodie

o n e

"we're not bruised, they're just party tattoos"

"Are you coming?"

The call came from my best friend and flatmate, Sophie, who was waiting downstairs impatiently.

"I'm nearly ready, I'll be down in a second!" I replied, peering into the mirror as I finished off my eyeliner.

With one quick last glance, I grabbed my bag, and hastily ran down the stairs, very nearly tripping on the way.

"Do we really have to go out today? I'm halfway through season three of Wynonna Earp and-"

"Yes. You haven't left the house in three days, Belle."

"Its a really good show! Let me spend my summer how I want to." I replied, feigning annoyance.

"These are meant to be the best years of our lives! You can't spend all summer cooped up inside! Trust me, you'll thank me for everything in a few years."

She smiled reassuringly, but I wasn't convinced. Sophie was more of a party animal, she would go out every weekend, come back with a hangover, and still go to lectures on Monday back to normal. I, however, was not quite so acquainted with the 'nightclub' and 'party' scene. Don't get me wrong, I love small parties with close friends,  nightclubs can be fun and trust me I can barely remember any of freshers week, but my introversion didn't always agree with crowded, noisy places.

"Stop worrying, and let's go!"

I hadn't even realised that I had zoned out until she snapped me out of my thoughts, laughing, then grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the front door.

We walked down the road to the tube. In London, public transport is almost always the best option; the roads are consistently at a standstill, and it doesn't get much worse than at rush hour, where irritable commuters won't hesitate at spewing profanity or honking their horn at the most minor inconvenience. You can get a taxi, but not only will they take ages as they share the road with the aforementioned businesspeople, but it would probably cost a couple month's rent just for one way. Of course you can walk, but it would surely take hours, if not more if you sensibly choose to avoid the more unsavoury neighbourhoods. So, public transport, our only option.

We were crammed into a tube carriage, arms grasping for any bar or handle you could hold to brace yourself from the rhythmic rattle of the train, faces far too close to stranger's armpits. The journey felt both seconds and hours long at the same time. Standing surrounded by strangers, the silence only broken by the rumble of the train against the track and the occasional shrill screech of the breaks it was one of those scenarios  where reality just feels altered. When the monotone voice announced our station, we squeezed our way out between the other travellers, mumbling  a profuse amount of  apologies for standing on toes or leaning on people as is standard for any brit. Although the city gave me asthma, the polluted air had never smelt sweeter than after inhaling the suffocatingly hot and sweaty air of the tube for 20 minutes. 

"So where do we go from here?" I asked hesitantly as we stood at a crossroads at the exit of the underground station.

"I'll just check," she said under her breath as she typed in the club name to google maps. "That way!" she pointed to a street to the left of us. "It's pretty much all one direction."

"Lead the way then!" 

Surprisingly, she was right, and within a few minutes we were at the door of the nightclub. 

"Here we go." I muttered under my breath, and somehow she heard me.

"Just relax, Belle! Trust me, it will be fun! Who knows, maybe you'll meet a special someone?" She raised her eyebrows suggestively and I pulled a disgusted face to mock her.