Balconial Conversations

interlude \\ 44

I like how real Cam is. It makes me happy even when it's kind of sad and he makes mistakes.
***
The bass from a headache inducing dance song reverberate through my floor from next door. It's ten o'clock.

I'm on the fence, completely. I'm nervous to go, because I've never liked parties. While I'm not claustrophobic by any means, the pack and heat of all the people never fails to sends my stomach into spiral of worry and knots, not to mention the drunk people. I abstain, mostly because I hate the taste, and secondly because I hate the thought of losing control of myself.

I make myself a pastrami sandwich on while wheat and perch at the island. Eleven o'clock.

By one-thirty, the music has gone from Epic Dance Party to Mellow Indie Soundtrack. It's quieter too, and I can't hear the conversations through the wall anymore. I wonder if Cam is still awake. Still coherent. Not with the first girl who succumbed to his wiles.

It takes fifteen minutes, finally, to convince myself into opening the door. Just as I open mine, and step out, his opens too. A medium height boy with a lanky girl's arm around his neck staggers out has he supports her weight. He raises his eyebrows at me in greeting and makes for the elevator bank.

I catch the door with my fingertips before it closes. Deep breath.

I step inside, and propel myself forward. The air had just a thin haze of smoke, like one person was indulging, and smells strongly of something that's not just beer. Two girls are standing very close in the short hallway to the living area, and I walk very quickly past them.

People lean on the walls, sprawl on the floor and squeeze into the couch. Judging by the mess of cups, this is only a fraction of what was here before. The island was converted into a makeshift bar, and Milo leans against it with a very full red Solo cup.

"Katherine! I thought you weren't coming!" He greets me in a deep, slurred voice. He motions vaguely to the bottles, most of them less than half-full. "Thirsty?"

"Um, where's Cam?"

"Around here somewhere..." he looks around. "Last I saw he was dancing? Different music though. Different... different songs."

"Thanks," I tell him, and step away. His bedroom door is shut, and I don't open it. I squint through the big window, but all I can make out is the faint shape of someone out there, and the reflection of the room.

I step back, into someone's side. "Woah, there. You okay?" The large guy reaches for me, and I step away skittishly.

"Fine."

I make for the balcony.