fight club • luke hemmings

chapter two

5 seconds of summer and vodka sodas.

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"Let's get fuckin'groovy!" One prolonged pressure to the pedal, the Volkswagen Beetle is skidding out of the driveway with the rattling motor filling the quiet boulevard. A cheer is followed from the two girls after Zoe's vociferous attempt to fuel her friends with a rumble of energy.

Radio's switched on: Little Richard's "Tutti Frutti" blaring through the speakers, rolled down windows to assemble the nightfalls draft, smiles plastered on their faces, air replenished with exhilarating eager for the night's offerings. The atmosphere was righteous, summer filling them with genuine thrill for the presence of each other. Years of friendship, never drifted despite the perpetual alteration of classes each year, never grew weary from each other, it was pure and genuine. The second they pulled out the calm neighbourhood more youths were hanging around the streets of the metropolis, flickers of the city lights flashing through the windows.

'Where is it we're goin' anyway?' Lori called from the back, crouching through the front seats to smear a second layer of gloss to intensify the darker traced liner around her lips, after peering through the rear view mirror she plunges back satisfied.

Rose never had a clue, nor did Lori. They mindlessly conceded to go out, blindly hurling a heart full of faith to Zoe; the one who usually sorted out their agendas. Never had an appreciation for rules, restrictions, curfews any of that, so when Zoe once again appeared with a mind of ideas: they agreed, knowing that they always had a promising time. 'We're dancing, eat, drink listen to good music all that jazz?'

She didn't like the notion of dancing, sure with the solitude of her own bedroom, she'd dance to her heart's content, twist and turn to the harmonies coursing through her record player right until her legs gave in but in the midst of strangers, she'd grow uneasy at thought of someone gazing at the way she'd let herself get lost in the music. That was private, a thing she's rejoiced alone. 'It'll be fun, I promise, ' she smiled and took a turn onto the highway.

She relaxed in her seat, peered through the window, watched the town buildings dwindle into the dark as they drove further into the heart of Hermosa Beach. An inky sky speckled with eternal nanoscopic particles of stars, all which nuzzled her with a sense of comfort and gratitude for the divine beauty of nature and its leverage to enthral you with unique emotions. A dark sky, pink sunsets, vicious rain, radiant azures. Each individually different but carrying its own proficiency to amass you with comfort.

A dark sky is relieving in a way; denuding and exposing. It makes you feel indivisible and engulfed by the rest of nature. Just as the ocean, the trees, the birds, the mountains, you're part of the darkness; no shadow to mask behind and the days you're feeling enraged, swivelled with bitterness for life, yearning for nothing but to lunge out of existence for even just minutes, a single stride during the nights allows you to get lost alongside nature, let's you battle with your emotions alone and freely without another soul in sight. The beach at night, for example, she went there frequently during the early dawns and the eerie stillness exempt from chatter hugs her with solace, allows her to be free and check in on the wellbeing of her soul.

Pink sunsets, they allow you to feel cosy, satisfied and reminds you to take a step back and relax for a while. The days she had felt worked up, or even felt that she didn't fulfil enough that day a pink sunset was all she needed. It reminded her that it was okay to rest, that even the orbit that was entirely providing vitality for seven billion spirits would conceal behind the horizon for a couple of hours to rest, but ultimately the sun would return promptly and would permit her another shot to give whatever it was bothering her another whack. Those moments hoisted the anxiety running through her veins, replaced them with assurance. Similarly, with vicious rain, initially you wouldn't think so. But the stark occurrence of rain, the rattling noise of raindrops shattering against her window; the tiny fluid spheres soaking the surfaces of the earth, coating everything with a hue of shimmer and richness is pure comfort. The blow of million raindrops punching pavements with steady soothing beats, as if the sky is fearlessly serenading the world with its ripples of water. It is as if each droplet is uniquely a single note, all contributing to one perfect harmony. In those days, no matter the mayhem in her life it brings her peace, allows her to cry with the fogs if needed, fusing with ballads of the clouds.