i messed it up…three years ago…
The music was booming out of the speakers and the smell of alcohol just floated around the atmosphere. Bodies mashing up together in the middle of the dance floor and laughter and screams in elation, which was the scene in this new club that had recently opened in New York City. It was named after the person who had founded the club, Prince.
There I was, sitting on the bar bench, drinking up shots glass after glass. Another bummer day of rejection for something I didn’t do. I gulped down too many glass of shots that I didn’t even remember how many. I was literally crying and hiccupping in both anxiety and distraught, didn’t know which emotions overpowered the most and honestly, didn’t even care.
“I think you had too much, miss…” The bartender was kind enough to let me know that I was now just over my limit. But my hatred towards society had me pulling out all of my evil cards. I glared at him before hiccupping once again.
“Do you think I give a shit about it?” He was torn between shock and amusement as I searched for my bag, took about a few hundred and slammed in on the bar. He simply took the money and left, allowing me to wallow in self-pity all alone. I got up groggily before grabbing my bag and walked away. Just as I was about to walk ahead, I had somehow stirred too much to the left and slammed into someone’s chest.
“Holy shit!” I heard him exclaim as I felt some sticky wetness between the person and I. I looked up to him, squinting my eyes and realised that I had just poured two glasses of fresh beer on both of us. His irritated blue eyes snapped into mine. “Can’t you see where you’re going?” He was British, I was sure of it as he had that thick accent in his tone.
“Well, if you had eyes that actually could work, maybe you wouldn’t have bummed into me!” Too drunk to even consider what I have said or done but just the recognition that it felt good to not care. He scoffed at me arrogantly before he looked at me irritated.
“You’re obviously too drunk and from the way you look, I can see why.”
“Shut up,” I immediately responded as he just clicked his tongue and pushed past me and walked away. I didn’t know why I didn’t just walk away too. There was this sudden bubbling sensation of wanting to punch someone in me that I had grabbed his arm and dragged him back to stand in front of me.
“What are you doing?” he sneered as I glared at him.
“I don’t like you,” I slurred off as he coughed.
“Look, I need to be getting to my girlfriend there.” He was about to push me off again and when I didn’t let him, he was now just furious. “What do you want for God’s sake? If you’ve gotten rejected or whatever that has caused you like this, then don’t take it out on me!”
“Shut up!” I screamed all of a sudden as he took a step back. “You keep your mouth shut and just fucking apologise that you have bumped into me!”
He looked like he had wanted to punch me right there and then. “Do I look like some kind of leisure to just stomp on? I don’t give a damn about what had happened but I should apologise for you being so fat that you got rejected? Get a damn life!”
Without a second thought, I felt my hand bawling up and landing a punch on that man’s face. He was stricken in horror as everyone in the club gasped at the sudden action. And that was the light off and it darkened. The last image was that man attacking back. And somehow, I was at the hospital with that man with two police warning us to never fight again or else things would be seriously considered. After that, the man had left with piercing words and I passed out. The next thing I knew, Kristine was yelling at me early in the morning meanwhile I was having this huge hangover.
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My Jerk-In-Law ✔Romance
Meet Charlotte Van Wilson (Charlie), a twenty-three-year-old obese woman, who has the lowest self-confidence and currently unemployed, because of her weight and society's downgraded view on outer looks. The only person currently that doesn't judge h...