𝐍𝐎𝐍-𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒

There's so many guys like this

"Why would a famous singer celebrate her birthday in her house, and not in an expensive venue with a swimming pool and shit?" Keith asked.

"Maybe she's down to earth" Natalie shrugged.

"Or her house is huge" Alex suggested.

Her house was, indeed, huge.

When she opened the door, Bea, a beer in her hand, stared at us from head to toe. After a second of confusion, she smiled. "Oh, yes! Afterdream! Hi guys, come in"

"Hey, happy birthday" Charlie said, stealing her beer and disappearing inside.

"It's tomorrow but thank you" she replied.

The inside was full of people and empty bottles of alcohol. Good, I thought. If my gut feeling was right, and being there wasn't a good idea, at least I could get drunk, pass out and pretend it never happened. I entered the sea of people looking for a drink of whatever. I had put on a total black outfit: a tight lace black top, black jeans, black boots. At least it matched my mood.

Natalie took a bottle of Bacardi and poured herself a huge drink. "Give me your glass" she told me.

I shook my head. "Bacardi? That's my aunt's drink. Give me tequila"

I took the first shot with Sadie. The alcohol burned into my throat as I was pacing around the room full of people.

I bumped into a stiffed, solid, chest.

"Sorry" I said without even looking, but, the person to whom that chest belonged, put his hands on my shoulders.

"Hey" he said.

I looked up at who I think was the guy I met at the after party the other night. The DJ who gave me his shirt. He had short, light brown hair, kind chocolate eyes and a smile on his face.

"Hi..."

"... Rick" he responded, raising his hands with a cute smile. "It's okay if you don't remember me, I mean I get it" he gestured for us to leave the room: too many people.

I followed him out, not before glancing at my friends: Sadie and Natalie winked at me.

"I'm sorry I haven't texted you back" I told him. "I was too drunk to remember that I spoke to you and even stole your shirt"

He laughed. He had a beautiful smile, bright, straight teeth, on a nice guy face. He had the beauty of a boy you want to introduce to your parents, a comforting beauty that doesn't excite and doesn't disturb.

I made myself a drink with various types of alcohol that was left in the kitchen.

"Are you gonna share your drink with me?" he asked.

"Sure. Give me your glass"

I mixed, with no sense of measure, Vodka, Gin, Rum and orange juice. You can tell my favourite cocktail is Long Island Iced Tea.

"So, will you tell me the story of how I woke up in my bed, with your t-shirt on?" I asked, taking a sip. Too much Gin.

"Well, you weren't at your best"

"Yeah, I remember that"

"You were sick on yourself"

I almost spat out my cocktail. "What?" I laughed, covering my mouth in shame.

"Well, you asked me where the bathroom was. I told you where to go. I waited outside, cause you didn't look alright, and I was a bit worried. After about half hour you came out, crying because you got sick on your dress" he said and he couldn't stop laughing, "actually, I saw your dress and it was just wet, I guess you were too drunk to realise it was only just water. I told you but you couldn't stop crying, you said you didn't want him to see you with sick on your dress, so I gave you my shirt"

This was too awkward. Did I say Matty's name?

He noticed my embarrassment, so he shook his head. "Look, I don't know who this guy you were so worried about is, but even drunk, even with tears, trust me, you were gorgeous. And he's a fool for thinking otherwise"

"Yeah, sure. Drunk and high and my dress ruined", I said, trying to hide my even bigger embarrassment. "So, Rick, you've been so kind to give me your shirt and... between me and you..."

"Oh" he said. "No, we didn't... nothing happened. I mean, I did see you in underwear cause you couldn't wait to change out of your dress, but nothing happened between us"

I frowned. "Did you see me in my underwear?"

"Yeah. I didn't touch you, though, and if you command it, I can erase that image from my memory"

I chuckled. "Well, you're a saint, or at least that's how you portray yourself..."

Rick took a sip of his drink, looking serious. "If you think I'd take advantage of a drunk girl, you're wrong"

"I didn't mean it, I'm sorry" I quickly replied. "Thanks for babysitting me. You didn't have to"

"It's fine" he smiled again. "And — may I ask — this guy you were worrying about, is he your boyfriend?"

I laughed cause that was ridiculous. "Boyfriend?", I repeated. It sounded like a joke slipping out of my mouth. "Oh, no. Do you wanna dance?"

He took my hand as a response and led me back to the other room and we danced quietly for a bit. I looked around, wrapping my lips around the straw and sucking what was left of my drink. Rick got closer, his hands on my hips. I liked the feeling of him holding me and I didn't mind when he pushed his body against mine so I let him.

He whispered something in my ear and I nodded and pretended I could hear and understand his thick accent through the music. It didn't matter anyway, guys like him never said anything relevant or amusing or seductive enough for me to actually have to pay attention. It wasn't like I thought I was smarter or better than him, it's just that I knew that if I looked at any guy too closely, especially if I knew they liked me, they would turn out to be boring or annoying or tenderly useless. It was a feeling that had amplified over the years.

I couldn't tell why but, in that moment, I thought about Matty and had to remind myself that, with him, it would be no exception. In fact, to my annoyance, I found myself dreaming that now, instead of Rick, there was Matty pressing his body against mine, his hands around my waist, his lips whispering sweet nothings to my ear. The mere thought made me feel like I was on fire, but, again, I reminded myself: it's because Matty is not here now. If he were here you'd be as bored of him as you are with Rick, I convinced myself. Matty was just like any other guy. The fact Rick said that I cried at the after party... that I cried cause I wanted to look pretty for him...

I took Rick's face in my hands and pulled him closer, not touching his lips but enough to smell his alcoholic breath.

The fact I cried at the after party cause I wanted to look pretty for Matty was incomprehensible for me. I was used to be very good at dealing with my emotions. This lack of control ashamed me, I never wanted it to happen to me again.

But as Rick's lips brushed mine, I saw him.

Matty.

I locked eyes with him across the room.

I tilted my head back. Rick made a sound of disapproval and kissed my neck instead.

Matty probably couldn't see for the lights, but he was staring right at me. A cigarette lazily hanging from the corner of his lips, he had a white botton down shirt on and black trousers. My eyes couldn’t seem to shift, too entranced and almost embarrassed, watching him raise his hand and sink his fingers into his hair, so his black curls erupted from between his knuckles. They looked unmanageable, and when he tucked one behind his ear, it fell back, swinging in his face like telephone wires. I had the instinct to touch them, so I automatically reached a hand to touch Rick's hair. I never touched Matty's hair but I was sure it wasn't the same. It wasn't the same, but I felt like I was under the effects of hypnosis. Like I had my arms around Matty's neck instead of Rick's.

But Matty was far away from me.

He took a bottle of wine and just left.