The Crowded Room

8. Nocturnal, Immature Animals.

The air is cold and thick as I climb out of the car. I tremble from the chilly shivers that run all throughout my body as Pierre slams the car door shut behind me. Once again, we’re on the busy street of the Blouberg Beachfront that is swarming with people. All I hear are loud drunken voices and all I smell is a significant amount of alcohol mixed with saltwater. Pierre and Chris are in a hot pursuit to find a bar worth entering. I walk alongside him, and Chris trails closely behind us. My arms hang loosely along my side but not for long when I feel Pierre’s hand slide into mine gently and warmly. I look down at our hands that are intertwined in bewilderment. Our fingers laced in the most intimate way. The feeling is strange but oddly comforting.

I like it.

I see Pierre in deep thought, pondering on which direction to go. The current mission is to find a place where the boys may play pool and drink, sounds easy enough. He first leads us into Buckley’s. The place looks unfamiliar even though I know for a fact that I’ve been here before.
Completely wasted with Milano and Uncle Neil, of course.

The scene inside is dark and gloomy, Du Hast by Rammestein is playing through the speakers. This place is really giving the effect of a mixture of minimal effort metalheads and heavy drug users.

At least the music’s good.

As we walk in further down to the pool tables I feel everyone stare at us, or me? I look ahead pretending not to notice.

Can everyone notice my post sex glow? Is that even a thing?

All the pool tables are crowded, and everyone seems so unapproachable. Pierre and Chris look at each other and shake their heads. Still holding onto his hand, he leads the way out the door towards the next bar, He’s not here. He doesn’t let go of me and I am much appreciative of it as my social anxiety starts to bubble beneath the surface.

Crowds and crowds of people are swarming the place in front and inside as we walk towards the entrance. We stop by the two bouncers and they search the boys. I stand awkwardly steady without Pierre by my side. I open my bag for the bouncer to peek inside.
Don’t worry, I’m not planning on killing anyone just yet.

Satisfied, he allows us inside. This place is a sensory overflow. These people are like birds flocking their feathers around and not caring where it goes. All I feel are foreign skin touching mine, men ogling me with the look of who’s this fresh new hen. And women who look at Pierre with desire and at me with scowls.

Alcohol.Ineedalcohol.

As if on cue, Pierre’s arm stretches around my waist holding me by his side with a firm grip as we walk to the bar. I feel my panic subside. He pushes me slightly ahead of him so that I stand between him and the bar. His hands are on either side of my hips keeping me from escaping his protective aura.

‘’What you having to drink?’’

The bartender leans forward directing his attention towards us. I take a pause and think of what I’d like to poison myself with. Pierre and Chris decide on beer and I join in on the decision.

‘’Three drafts please.’’

The bartender nods curtly and goes to work. Pierre can’t keep his hands off of me as he caresses all along my hips and lower back. It’s as if since we’ve become intimate, he’s become more touchier.

How’s that even possible?

Three long beers are placed before us, I grab a glass and start to devour the liquor, burning all the way down my throat.

‘’Are we gonna play some pool.’’

‘’Yes.’’

Pierre briefly leaves my side to place a R5.00 coin on the pool table. The gentlemen surrounding the table look at him and acknowledge his challenge. I remain silent as I watch them start packing the balls, placing the black eight ball in the middle of the perfect triangle. Pierre, in heavy concentration, goes in for the kill, easily gliding the stick between his thumb and forefinger he retracts then hits the white ball flawlessly. The rest of the balls scatter across the table as the game finally gets set in motion. I move from the bar to go stand close by at an already occupied table to be able to ogle at Pierre a little better. They take turns playing, sinking ball after ball.