Blues

29. Blue Smoke

"I left the station straight up midnight
Feelin' lonely, lost and blue
In a trail of blue smoke with my heart broke
I said good-bye to you."
Blue Smoke by Dolly Parton

______

*Hey! What are you doing tonight?*

It's ironic that I receive a text from Melody the exact moment I plan to call her, ready to show her how despiteful I can be with my words. On top of the things I loathe, comes being treated like a fool, and out of all the people I know, she's the one who pulled that stunt.

*Nothing, why?* I text back, stripping of my clothes, ready to wash the lake's water off my body.

*I'm actually considering going to NIGHTS to hang out for a bit. Wanna join me?*

The text leaves me to ruminate over what I could do if I went there. I contemplate giving her the cold shoulder, the way I used to act in the past. But then again, I'm not the same girl anymore. *Sure. When should I meet you there?*

____________

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Melody's arms immediately engulf me in a tight hug the moment I arrive, injecting a dose of warmth into my glacial, cold-blooded body. I tense even more than I was before, her sudden act of affection taking me by surprise. If she notices how detached I am, she doesn't mention it, withdrawing to pull a shopping bag from the bar. "I know you like to draw, thought I'd give you something that has more room." She beams, hugging me once more.

I feel my emotions being turned upside down, my spleen being rectified to contrition. I came here to affront her, while she was planning to celebrate a late birthday with me. I feel my arms moving on their own, hugging her back, my throat closing up. "Thanks." I smile, pulling back. "You really didn't have to do that."

She shrugs. "That's what friends are for! Not only Dylan can make you feel happy." She winks, and upon her mention of his name, I feel my guard confecting again. "The drinks are on me too! Choose whatever you want." She waves at the bartender to come over.

I let out a titter, feeling unease and guilt inundating me once more. "Whatever you're ordering."

She takes it as her cue to control the night, initiating it with a pair of tequila shots, which we down straightaway, and with the burn, my verdicts and emotions turn to ashes, the cold liquor chilling and warming my stomach at the same time.

With my clashing chords berthed in the back of my mind, I lean back against the stool, and choose to enjoy the night.

After all, we're all flawed.

We're all blue.

I choose to slow down after another shot of tequila, ordering vermouth and soda. Its bittersweet savor mitigates the nauseating burn of the tequila. Not an hour passes, before she starts to beg me to dance with her, but I decline, telling her that I hate dancing. Little does she know about how I love to dance, but only if it's with some specific individual. She hits the dance floor alone, leaving me to sip on my drink as I watch her as she swiftly shoves her way into the crowd, merging in. With her charisma, and adroit, feminine moves, it doesn't take long before the guys trample the air for her.

"Wanna dance?" A gruff voice interrupts.

I don't even bother to look at the intruder, waving him away. "No, thanks."

But he doesn't leave, begetting me to give him my attention, and oh boy, does her seize every single bit of it.

It's him again.