Reincarnate: The Myths & Legends of a Party Girl

Chapter One: Part I

The first night was probably the strangest, but my life had already been very strange. I don't think I would have understood what was about to happen even if you slapped me across the face with it. Looking back, I always feel like I should have realised. how fucking chaotic everything had been. The energy in the bar alone that night had been off the charts. The air was thick with a weird predictive tension. Like somehow everyone else had known what was going to happen. The smell of stale beer and bad decisions had invaded my senses like a premonition of bad news. It made me sick, but despite all the universes warnings, I continued with my usual antics.
Around five, my friend had passionately escorted me from my job as Pleasant Barista #3 down at Cuppa's on lloyd. Vanessa claimed she needed all the info on a midnight kitchen rendezvous with our dear friend and temporary roommate, Derrick Costa.
But not much had happened. Nothing to warrant gossip at least. Derrick kind of looked at me like a little sister. or at least that's what he claimed. Last night had been different though. He had been... just different. Another strange encounter.
I had gotten back late, and intoxicated, again. Because well, that was kinda my thing right now. Another story, for another time.
Memories I had been trying to escape for longer than the seven months I had been in Providence, fueled a massive bender after my show. Thursdays were open mic night at a lounge Vanessa had introduced me to. It was one of those gay clubs with the crazy drag queens and bears out front. She figured since I put the 'T' in LGBT, it might be a good fit, and it was. I got to be completely me for once. one night a week I was who I truly am and people loved it. They thought I was eccentric and funny. eye candy at least, and it made me feel at home for once.
For once.
I was a willowy kind of girl. Lanky my whole life unfortunately for me. Or maybe fortunately. I was still deciding. I was somewhat graceful. Somewhat. I got away with ballet for 3 years before my dad decided it wasn't fit for his son. But that was dad.
my hair was dyed a strawberry milk pink. A curly, wavy bob that did whatever it wanted. Often frizzy. It was what it was though. I tried.
When I did wear makeup, I wore as wild and aesthetic as possible. Bright colors, lots of pinks and blues and greens. And my clothes were mostly thrifted. Sometimes I spiced it up with spikes or rhinestones. I considered myself a creative, though my parents never agreed. Thick retro sweaters and booty shorts, maybe a houndstooth frock, always though, something bold or colorful, ideally both. And despite my boxy figure and Roman nose, with fashion I did try to make it work. Tim Gunn had taught me that at least. But the best part now was that I did make it work. And people liked that about me. despite how chaotic I was, I always looked good. The Goddess of the lounge said I "Reminded her of a Princess Diana, Reborn! Baby Diana!" and it stuck. Everyone called me Baby though, or Diana. I had never had a nickname before, ever. Not even bullies could muster something good, and neither could I. Honed Anything was better than hearing the same annoying name from a town full of people that hated you. It was a special kind of nice to finally somehow match the face to the feeling. Or whatever.
But that night, derrick had been pissed for some reason or another, and the complete shitstirrer I was, I just had to infuriate him further. The situation had escalated quickly. I remember that. But everything after, until Vanessa came home from work late into the night, is darkness. She found us curled up on the couch. Clothed, thank any god there was, but tangled up like spider monkeys. Disheveled and completely knocked out. Truth be kept to my fucking self I had no clue how we ended up like that. I assume since I was already three sheets to the wind, I overdid it. But the darkness of last night gave me cold, scary feelings. Not guilty, but impending.
obviously Vans assumed the worst of course. Or well, maybe the best. But I truly doubted it. Looks could be deceiving though. I don't know, I just couldn't believe Derrick, Ricky, a true John Bender wannabe, would find me attractive in any way.
So, yes, well Vanessa had been, well, yeah, the best word for it was passionate, about the prospect of Derrick and I "finally" getting together? I should have expected she'd hustle my ass down to our little groups favorite bar, Pinkies
I knew though. A couple nutcases like us shacking up, was a recipe for disaster. Even so, deep down, not nearly as far down as I wanted it to be, I wanted him.
So enter the present, Vans and I, at another bar, and I was plastered. Again. Some old guy ogling me from a few seats down. I smirked at him and he grinned almost arrogantly, sipping his beer.
"Hey!" A deep voice called over the music.
I sipped my tangy drink, continuing to make eyes at the man. He wasn't particularly attractive but he his friend was. The drink was fruity but sour. It made my face hot and my body loose. I bit my lip as the music thumped.
"D!" The voice called again. I knew who it was. And I had to ignore it. Looking at his stupid face was gonna make me explode. I couldn't explain it. something happened last night and the repercussions could have suffocated me. The embarrassment of not knowing making everything so much worse.
But I had to. I couldn't just ignore him. It wouldn't make my problems magically disappear. Although looking back on it maybe they might've.
I couldn't see through my mess of peachy waves. Pushing then out of my face I lazily glanced over at him. I smiled politely. Swaying to the music.
"I'm busy!" I played it cool. While simultaneously not playing it cool at all.
Where southerners had a twang, northerners specifically New Jersey natives like me, sounded more like if a gunshot was a person.It was a quirk I wasn't shaking anytime soon. But it made me feel even less feminine somehow. The need to over compensate a constant irritating hum.
I parted my hair with two fingers, tucking the strands delicately behind heavily pierced ears.
"Ricky ya face looks like a tomato. If your mad just say it."
Gunshot.
Or maybe undiagnosed autism.
Rhode Islander on the other hand had a rolling lilt more being hit by a garbage truck. Like Fran drescher garbling marbles. But derricks deep tenor made me feel like I was being juggled like a pin.
"I'm fucking mad."
I grabbed my drink from beside me and realized in that moment i was sitting on top of a bar. Choking out laughter i finished my drink in a flash knocking it back as i wiped a drip from my mouth.
"Oh what now?" I whined hopping down. Using his shoulders to brace myself. He didn't step back. Instead forcing me to slide against his chest. I let my hands glide down savouting the chance to feel his well defined muscles even for a second. I know damn well he doesn't lift. But as I forced him to back up I felt the muscle beneath the band shirt. Muscle that almost puzzled me with how lazy he seems. I adjusted my black mini skirt. I pulled up a little too high and some drunk guy hooted. Probably the same dude from before. I laughed, smiling. Derrick however rolled his eyes.
"Youve been blackout drunk for the past three days. Don't you think you've had enough, D?" His deep voice rattled me as he leaned in, his words absolutely murdering my buzz.
"What crawled up your ass and died?" I shook him off.
walking towards the man I had been making eyes at before I knew he'd stop me. But something in me itched to ruffle the golden boys feathers.
Now it needed to be stated that Derrick Costa was good-looking. Very good-looking. A marble statue of a body. Seriously. Creamy olive skin. Gorgeous, tousled, dirty-blonde waves. Honey brown eyes that seemed to melt my soul. And a truly cut jaw with just a bit of scruff. Derrick was an everybody type and he knew it. He got away with a lot of things, with a lot of people. And he always got what he wanted. Always knew just what to say. Always knew just what to do. forever disinterested and smooth.
In my experience people like him were created for the sole purpose of torturing people like me. But I think I was just too much for him. I had everything going on all the time all held together by a system of intricately woven ropes and pulleys. My life was tied together with gum and shoelaces. His life, before his great fall, had been tied with strings of gold. I was his polar opposite, and because of it, he got nothing by me. I could tell just what type of person he was from the beginning. Calculating, over-confident, and desperate dirty desires for some semblance of chaos in his perfectly organized life.
At this point in my life, after officially deciding to stop relying on other people for my self-worth, I couldn't invest an ounce of myself in him. I refused to give his drama the time of day. Which he absolutely despised of course. He had no control over me. Nobody did. Not anymore. The more he grasped for it the further I pulled away. He needed to guide me, take care of me, fix me. It was cute but inevitably futile. when he realized it I think it actually drove him a bit insane. I knew it was toxic but still, something about him always made me want to just give in to all his antics. Let him live out his fantasy where his newittle buddy was cured of their incessant alcoholism. But I'm now well aware that's not how life works and so does he.
"You shouldn't be drinking like this." he sniffed, picking something out of my hair.
"Do a shot with me and i'll let you take me home," I grinned. His head fell back to look at whatever god would help him.
"Don't lie I know you want one anyways."
His tousled locks fell over his face as he looked back at me. he stared at me with mild irritation.
"Todd wants me to take you home." He answered resolutely.
Glancing at the bartender at the other end of the bar I found the small man eyeing me warily. His hands shook as he poured a group of friends some shots. I pouted, my mouth salivating for another.
"He says you have enough alcohol in your system to kill a horse."
I scowled.
"That must be an exaggeration because the likes of you schemers has officially sobered me." I huffed tugging away from Derrick and tucking my clutch under my arm. I initially headed for a bartender on the another end but after being officially cut off, walked towards the dance floor to look for Vans instead.
"I'll have you know she did four shots of tequila, two lemon drops, three green tea shots, a martini, two long islands, three glasses of house rose and a four horseman," Todd read like Eminem all in one breath, "Derrick man, please. You gotta take her home. Last time she drank this much she started an orgy in the bathroom. If she pulls something again the manager-"
Todd the little snitch. I scowled at him.
"Don't let her talk you into anything like the poor group of girls that just left puking all four horsemen right back fucking out."
Derrick stared at me in amazed horror and I shrugged. Walking backwards towards the dance floor. He followed after me shaking his head.
"I lost count." I mumbled, attempting to feel ashamed. Honestly though i didn't. Maybe it was the liquor- scratch that it was definitely the liquor, but i wasn't ashamed of any of it and I didn't feel bad at all. For once in my life, I wasn't ashamed of a goddamn thing. And I had no desire to be.
Derrick came in very close to me, his hands sliding up to my face in a gesture he had never done before. His eyes, now tender. bore into mine with an intensity I was entirely unfamiliar with. Especially from him.
"We're leaving." He said and everything in me froze.
"What about Vans though?" I asked, "we can't just strand her."  I attempted, but as soon as I said it, he grabbed me by the waist and tossed me over his shoulder.
"You f***ing a**hole!! Let me the f**k down you pr*ck! Just when I thought u were being nice!!"
"My sweet baby this is the part where you listen like a good girl and stop fucking kicking. I'm tired, and your excuses just aren't doing it for me tonight." He growled like and tired bear woken from a delightful hibernation but I groaned loudly.
"OOO i'm derrick i'm a man and i like asserting my dominance over women cuz it makes my dick wet."
"Clever." he growled. The vibration humming against my skin.
"Derrick, put me down or I'll seriously make a scene!"
"You're already making a scene. You always make a scene. You're a thespian of life, Diana."
"Clever." I mocked, smacking his back; hard. apologizing to passers by, He swore under his breath in a way that instantly filled me with regret.
"Did you just fucking five star me? Diana, its two thirty in the fucking morning, why the hell am I always the one getting calls from Todd. Youre fucking psycho, having them always call me? Where the fuck is Vanessa, shes your damn handler!" He berated me and I scowled at the ground welling up with a rage that pricked my eyes.
"I'm not a dog you fuck. And I didnt tell anyone to call you! I thought you just came to hangout!" My voice cracked and I knew I sounded hurt and pathetic, but I was drunk and the blood had been rushing to my head at an alarming rate.
He put me on my feet. Gently. But he still frowned. His hands still held my waist, probably unconsciously. Like I was a wild badger and if he let me go I'd cause all sorts of trouble. I pressed against him for balance, losing my footing, still dizzy from being upside down.
he was in shape, hell he was hard as a rock for the most part, but still, somehow soft, not stacked with muscle to a point of excess. I liked that about him. Maybe it was just the alcohol that made me notice it.
"Derrick you're kind of being a dick right now. You didn't have to come, I would have obviously left eventually. I would have been fine. But you did come huh? and I wonder why that is," I stepped away from him, raising a pink brow, "If you dislike it this much, and I am such a bother, I know plenty of other guys that would be happy to receive Todd's call." I barked at him and Derrick's indifference wavered revealing anger and something more guilty. My pride soured in my throat, but rage still burned.
"Fine then D, have at it!" I shrugged it off as if dropping hot coals.
He gestured around as if proving I was bluffing somehow. Which royaly pissed me the fuck off. I huffed in annoyance. The liquor and my slowly boiling rage fueled an angry shove I didn't realize was coming either. Idk why i did it. I was mad and drunk and its never an excuse but it was like unresolved deja vu. Like a dream of a memory or a memory of a dream. A game we'd been playing for so long it was familiar. It wasn't just me, Diana who had been so angry at him I could scream. It was more than that. It had to have been.
Suddenly my head panged with a snapping shock of pain and a memory, a feeling, a desire, jarred my thoughts.
He pressed against me with a halo of bright golden light surrounding his imposing frame. His long hair slowly melted from a mousy brown to a silken gold. His honey eyes lit up like pools of ambrosia. A face like an Angel clouded over by lust and.. disgust? Then his lips were on mine.
Between fevered breaths he whispered one low rumbling word that shook me to my core.
"Bacchus."
I looked up at the Derrick in front of me now with a sharp gasp. I felt my face grow cold. Sweat beading on my brow. His eyes widen with surprise at my sudden reaction. Then back to bland irritation.
"Very mature." he said.
But I could only stare at him. My brain tried like a busy office analyzing and compiling. Desperate to explain the strange... vision? It felt like a memory. But it didn't make any sense at all. Had I taken some sort of hallucinogen without realizing? Had I been drugged... It explained why I couldn't remember anything from last night, and I had been flirting with a lot of other guys before Ricky got there.
"D?" he prodded sternly. I attempted and failed to clear my thoughts as I looked up at him.
"Just get Vanessa so we can go home. I'm..tired." I answered, my throat choked and heart racing.
I really wanted to believe that hallucination was just a vodka induced allfactory malfunction. I could tell myself that. I could.
Although the feeling in my gut of deja vu said otherwise. It said, something very strange, even stranger than normal was happening, and for once in my crazy messed up life I needed to listen.