Short Story: Written On The Bathroom Walls

The disco lights flickered through the shadows of the club as the music blared, thumping its rhythm as the feet bounced to the beat. The smell of alcohol and the stench of unwelcome smoke filled my lungs as I coughed out the poison.
The nightlife was never my place of comfort and relaxation after a long week of work. But to others, it was the light through the dark.

I tried to hurry my way through the dancefloor, lost in the maze of sweaty bodies bumping into me in their drunken haze.
I knew the exit was behind me, but my friend who had dragged me here was still somewhere within the world deeper in the back of the nightclub. Or so I hoped.
I had seen him sloppily tumble his way over here out of the corner of my eye, and knowing him, he was bound to be either passed out somewhere, or all up on a random woman who was seconds away from slapping him. Much to my approval.
But once the booze hits his bloodstream, that reserved, loving man doesn’t understand a damn thing. You could dangle a carrot in front of his face and he’d chase after it like a possessed horse.

As I tried to make my way to the other side I was roughly shoved to the floor as someone knocked into me. I watched as the feet stomped on me, completely unaware that there was a person and not a dancefloor under their heels. I covered my face through the panic as the music slowed to a stop, I knew it was about to start back up, presumably heavier than before. I wasted no time in pulling myself to my feet and charging out of there before there was no way to escape.

I finally made it to the other side of the club, darker and dirtier than the front. Just as I had expected.
Amongst the filth of people and their substances I was hoping to find my friend, but as I clutched my pounding chest as I tried to steady my breathing, I couldn’t seem to find him.

I rushed into the nearest restroom, the door slamming shut behind me as I heaved over the sink, my empty stomach trying to dispose of something that wasn't there.
My breathing was ragged as I felt a few stray tears slip out of my eyes from the strain of dry puking.
I felt the hair slowly be pulled away from my face as a soft hand stroked my head. A woman's deep, sultry voice echoed through the otherwise empty restroom with concern.
“You don’t seem drunk enough to be like this, love?”
I looked up in the mirror, meeting her emerald eyes that nestled in the sockets of her pale skin, her straight, black hair framing the face that watched my own.
My own, that I had only just noticed to be covered in cuts and new forming bruises.
“Around enough drunks to be like this, though.”
I responded half heartedly before splashed water over my face, smearing the makeup that was already too ruined to be fixed.

I felt her fingers glide through my hair, pulling it to the back of my head, a few tugs and it stayed in place as her hands moved away.
“What brought you here?” She asked, passing me a paper towel as I stood up straight, drying my face and dabbing the cuts that still sparkled with fresh blood.
“Friend brought me here, lost him somewhere out there.”
I sighed as I threw the paper towel in the trash, turned to lean on the sink as I held her eyes.

The sickness was still lingering in my stomach, but her siren stare mixed with the human care was enough to chase it away.
I felt my heart start to flutter as I swallowed hard.
“Typical. Always left to pick up their pieces.” She spoke as she tore a wrapper in her hands. She brought the sticky band-aid up to my chin, carefully placing the pad against the still bleeding injury.
Her fingers lingering on my skin for just a second too long.

“Are you here alone?”
“Always.” She hummed a response. “Less responsibilities for friends who don’t look out for you. Learnt the hard way that I was safer on my own.”
Her eyes flicked up and down, from my shoes to my eyes as the soft thump of the music outside rattled the mirror.
“You really shouldn’t be wandering around aimlessly in a place like this, especially without anyone by your side. If your friend actually cared about you, he wouldn’t have left you alone here.”
I huffed as I finally noticed the soft scent of cigarettes that came from behind her cheap perfume, something that would usually annoy me… Usually.
“He’s my childhood friend, he cares. He’s just a careless drunk.”
“Ah, he’s one of those ones, is he?”
I breathed out a chuckle as I felt her hand brush against my shoulder.
“I could help you find him, and I’ll take you both home.”
I felt suspicion start to rise in my throat from her request.
“And the catch?”
Her eyes held mine tightly, the shimmer of green illuminating in the harsh, white light above. A soft smile stretched across her lips in a mischievous manner.
“I crash at your place tonight. That is, unless you have other plans?”
I felt the contagious smile spread to my own lips as I leaned in.
“Oh, I have plans. But they all involve you.”