in the bathroom ➳a short story

in the bathroom

{a/n}: welcome, so sorry i've been gone. lowercase intended, yada yada, onto what ya came for.

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no matter how much you'd protested, your friends had still managed to drag you along to this party. one of the biggest parties of the year, actually. spring break for college students is apparently the best time to party.

you walk aimlessly through the crowd, listening to one of your friends go on and on about some boy she was head-over-heels for. you hold your little red plastic cup close to you and near your mouth and your eyes scan around the room. there's a deep blue light coming from god-knows-where that covers the entirety of the large home. people are everywhere, it smells of sweat and alcohol. and too many people. a panic at the disco song is blaring through some speakers and filling your ears, although you don't know the name or the lyrics. you look over to your friend, who has stopped speaking altogether; she's gone. and so is your other friend, who was on your left earlier, they're gone now. with nobody to guide you around the unknown territory of a party you didn't even really want to attend, your mind goes into a slight panic.

which reminds you why you most definitely, never, ever go to parties.

it suddenly becomes very stuffy and crowded, even more so than before. you look around frantically, your 'friends' nowhere in sight. of course, you couldn't blame them. you're lame, you don't even contribute to most conversations. all you can see is other peoples heads, some shorter, some taller, all of them extremely intimidating. you feel the anxiety set in, your body stiffening. you draw the red cup closer, downing whatever was in it. you weren't very sure, honestly, but that didn't matter.

you brush your way through the crowd, feeling small and powerless as you mumble "excuse me" at a constant rate. everybody seemed intimidating and worrying. it felt as if everybody was staring at you, but in all reality, you knew nobody would even want to look at you, which you didn't know how to feel about. you rush into the bathroom on the right, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it.

you look at the door for a few seconds.

it wasn't that interesting.

you spin around, just slightly tipsy, your body almost beginning to sway with every movement. you weren't that drunk though. maybe you couldn't handle social events, but you'd be damned if somebody said you couldn't hold your liquor. 

you grip the sink and stare into the mirror, the panic settling firmly in your stomach. you chuckle, still sounding very nervous, at how messy you look. your face is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your eyeliner barely smudging in certain spots. your mind trails back to your friends. you pull the phone out of your pocket, one hand still on the sink. you haven't gotten any messages, but when you check instagram you find multiple pictures from the girl who's infatuated with a guy, all of which are with the said guy. your other friend is at some girls house, hanging out and painting nails, obviously drunk. 

something stings then.

they left.

they didn't want to stay with you.

fuck, why would they?

your grip on the ceramic sink tightens and you feel unable to move. you can't lift your head up and look at yourself in the mirror.

you're alone at the biggest spring party of the year.

your friends left you.

and you're crying in the bathroom.

you can't seem to lift your head to look at yourself in the mirror, but you can feel the mascara-mixed-tears running down your face. the song playing outside the bathroom is something you recognize, which was nice. do i wanna know by arctic monkeys. it sounds muffled compared the sound of your body hitting ceramic as your practically collapse in the peachy pink bathtub, though.

your skin collides with ceramic, your tears collide with makeup, the very last thread that was holding you together finally snapping. your head hitting the ceramic tub wouldn't have felt very nice if you'd been paying much attention to it. 

your cheeks are practically caked in tears by now; let's face it, your sobbing.

something seems to hit you then: how much you'd rather be at home. if it weren't for your seemingly awesome friends, this wouldn't even be happening. bitter despair seems to replace that anxious feeling at the pit of your stomach. this time though, there was something else. an extra feature; the tight, constricting squeeze in your chest as you struggle to breathe through heavy sobs.

an extra feature.

a breathy and very forced chuckle comes out of your nose instead of your mouth; simply air.

you stay there for a while longer, just lying in the rose-pink tub. it was cold. the song had changed at least three times.

no messages. no texts.

nothing.

after a small while, you've pulled yourself together. well, sort of, but i mean come on, you're doing your best.

you check the clock on your phone. it's midnight, a bit later. you've only been here an hour.

it only took your friends an hour to leave you alone in the bathroom at the biggest party of the spring.

that's...surreal, isn't it?

you gather yourself, looking in the mirror with a cringe. you don't even bother with your makeup. if anybody asks, you'll just keep walking.

you finally unlock the bathroom door, open it, and emerge. not victorious though, your mind adds humorously.

you rush, even quicker than before, to leave. you don't even bother to say excuse me this time, but who cares. a greenday song is blaring in the speakers, the light has gone from blue to a sickly seeming green. on your way out your grab another drink, because boy oh boy do you need it.

Cheekily, your mind says, "Party hard, cry harder."