As I threw another shot down my throat, the alcohol burning on the tip of my tongue, she approached me. I knew for a fact she didn't recognise me, but whether it was the drunkenness playing on her brain, or the years that had passed since we'd last encountered each other, I couldn't be sure. But I knew who she was. She'd bullied me at school for anything and everything. For being small, for wearing different makeup to what everyone else did, for taking pride in my music.
"Me and my friend are buying rounds, what do you want?" she asked, her words mingling into each other.
"Coke and vodka," I demanded, and I watched as the bartender poured vodka into a glass, topping it off with a squirt of coke. I raised my glass as she pulled me onto the dance floor, forcing me into a peculiar sequence of steps that felt strange as my feet found themselves slightly separated from what my mind was saying. She danced with me, pulling me close as swarms of males passed us. A song came on over the speakers and I gasped. "This is my song!"
"Mine too," she giggled, and I shook my head.
"No, I wrote it," I insisted, and she looked at me, recognition sweeping over her face,
"You."
"Haven't you heard?" I slurred, downing the last of my drink. "I'm fucking famous."
YOU ARE READING
Songs as stories
Short StoryI listen to songs and think of a story that goes well with the lyrics tbh
