Drunk Dancing Part 1

Evan had always believed in love. He had always believed that there was someone special to love for all those who wanted it. With Alex, Evan thought he had found that someone. That he loved Alex and Alex loved him. It was only true for one. Standing his garden, Evan watched with his tear-filled eyes as Alex strolled away. It felt as though his heart had just been ripped out of his chest. He had nothing now. Nowhere to go, nobody to care for him, nothing. He shut his eyes tightly, just hoping that it was just a nightmare, that he’d wake up any second now. He shut his eyes, knowing it was real, that the pain he felt was really there. Alex’s footsteps on the gravel became distant and inevitably disappeared. Evan gathered the shards of strength he had left and used it to walk slowly inside. He passed all the party guests, getting joyful smiles and enthusiastic ‘Happy Birthday’s as he went. As if it was happy now. Evan ignored it and climbed shakily up the stairs, clenching the wooden bannister.

Evan slumped on his bed, putting his head in his hands. Where now? Where could he go? Lifting his head, Evan reached slowly for his phone, which was sitting on his bedside table. He booked a taxi then placed his phone back on the table and picked up his large black bag, that was sat patiently at the foot of his bed. He changed out of his current clothing and packed it in the bag, along with some other clothes and a simple wash bag. He grabbed some money and put that in his bag also. Evan began to get changed in a maroon coloured jumper, black jeans and black sneakers. His black curls were carefully put into a small ponytail and hung shoulder length on his scalp. Bag slung on his shoulder, Evan made his way downstairs, less shaky than before. Noticing his father talking to a woman, he went up to them.

“Farewell father. You don’t have to worry about me darkening your doorstep again.” Evan smiled. There were a few quizzical looks between the pair before the woman whispered to his father.

“You said you didn’t have a kid.”

“Exactly. I have no son nor daughter. I don’t know who you are kid.” His father smirked. Evan’s smile grew wider.

“My apologies sir. I mistook you for a father but I’m sure if you were you wouldn’t kick your child out of the house. I’ll be taking my leave now.”

Evan strode toward the door and opened it, a new sense of determination to rebuild his life.

Stepping into the taxi, Evan handed the driver a £20 note.

“Take me as far away as you can with that.”

The driver nodded and started the car as Evan breathed a sigh of relief. It might be good to get away. He could rebuild his life, like a house. Brick by brick. Far away from his old life. Nobody would care, nobody would go after him.

The taxi pulled up on a quiet street. The driver turned round, “This is your stop kid.”

“Thanks.” Evan opened the door and stepped out. It was probably a bit stupid leaving at an ungodly time of night. The street was incredibly sketchy looking and the street lamps weren’t working so the area was in complete darkness. The buildings were covered in graffiti and most of them were abandoned with broken windows and boarded up entrances. Evan kept walking for quite some time before coming to a stop at the only building that was lit up. It was a large building, one of the only ones that wasn’t damaged. There were plenty of signs in the windows. Wednesday Karaoke Night, Live Band on Monday and a hiring poster. A hiring poster! This was it. Evan composed himself and entered the building, unsurprised to find a bar. He went up to the counter where, a middle-aged man was polishing the glasses. Evan cleared his throat.

“Uhh, hello sir. I saw the poster in the window?” He said nervously.

“Karaoke Night was yesterday ago dumbass.” The bartender sighed exasperatedly.

“No. The other one.”

“Why are you talking to me about the live band?”

“The hiring poster.”

The bartender seemed shocked and stopped polishing glasses.

“You’re interested? In the job? It’s Friday night. You do realise that right?”

“What’s so scary about Friday night?” Evan asked cautiously.

“You aren’t from around here, are you kid.” The bartender laughed, “What’s your name?”

“Evan sir.”

“Pleased to meet you Evan, and never call me sir. Company policy.” He smiled. “There’s a room up for rent upstairs. 3rd floor, take a left, first door on your right.”

“Thanks.”

Evan followed the bartender’s directions. He went upstairs, passing framed photos of the founding of the bar and news paper clippings. The town looked so much more lively then. He got to the top of the building and opened the designated door. The walls of the room were a creamy white colour with dark brown wooden shelves practically embedded into the structure. The bed was in the far right corner of the room, gathering slight dust from lack of care. There was a small desk, which had patterns carved carefully into the sides. Unlike the legs of the desk, which were simple and rectangular. There was also a small en-suite that was a basic wash area, sink, shower, washing machine, etcetera. Evan dumped his bags on the desk and got into the bed straight away, too exhausted from the terrible day so far. The mattress was surprisingly soft letting Evan drift gently asleep.