The Date: Connor Franta

26: To New Beginnings... Sort Of?

I woke up to my phone ringing from my bedside table.

It's been about a month and a half since I've moved into this house, and a month since the two of my closest friends have walked out that door. I haven't tried to talk to them or simply just leave a text message, because honestly, I was done trying. The whole point of me moving out of that apartment was to leave all that crazy mess behind.

I've decided to start off clean and cut off everything that happened within the past two months. I've become so dependent on others (really just Connor) that I didn't know how to live on my own. I eventually learned, it was difficult, I hate being an adult. Although, I do love the peace and quiet in my own apartment... aside the loud ass dogs next door that never ever stop barking because of their shitty ass owners. I can never fall asleep at night without a woof ringing in my ear.

I reached for my phone by tapping around the table to feel the iPhone structure. I found it, and I saw a missed call, or three, from Connor.
It was about one in the morning. My eye sight was blurry, still trying to adjust to my surroundings. I didn't know why he was calling me this early in the morning (or late at night). It was random, too random of a call at one in the morning. Andrea told me if a boy ever calls you after midnight, it's a booty call and they're DTF AF. (Down to fuck as fuck, I know, it doesn't make sense.)

I couldn't resist but slide my screen to the left and call him back. I have no patience to second think about anything after a call this late (or early) that makes me wake up from my slumber.

The phone rang, and rang, and rang. The ringing stopped and I heard his voice. Not a normal one, though.

"Anna!" He slurred. Loud music was playing in the back and all I heard was screaming everywhere from the line.

"Why'd you call me?" I asked.

"I miss you, sooo much. We should start hanging out again. You're really cute." As much as I'd love to hear this and feel giddy, I was tired. I had no emotions. I felt nothing.

"Where are you?"

"I'm at a club with the guys but they ditched me. Your best friend is here too! Andrea!" He called Andrea over.

"Which club are you at?" He told me and I hung up. There was no possible way he would be at a club by himself drunk. I put on my shoes and I wouldn't believe I was going to do this- but I was going to pick him up and take him home safely. It's never a good idea to pick up your drunk ex because anything can happen at two in the morning. Anything. A good fight, a little slip of a dirty secret, who knows what?

I rushed out of my apartment and drove to the night club. As much as I would want to stay home instead and sleep, Connor drunk calling isn't such a good idea either.

Never have I stepped on the pedal this hard before (aside from the break pedal. No one likes to stay in their own lane anymore apparently. Or give me a signal.) and I hope I never will.

Making it in time, I pull up to a big night club with two tall leaning palm trees in the front and a long line filled with drunken ladies and gentlemen. The bass pumping from the music was loud enough to feel the vibration from my car. I called Connor, waiting for the ring to stop. It stopped eventually, with a "You've reached Connor's voice mail. After the tone, please record your message." I hung up and groaned, trying to call him again. It rang, and rang, and again, no luck. My only other available option was to go in there and grab him myself. I didn't want to go in there. I promised myself I would never.

I looked at the long line of ladies with short dresses that stopped midway of their thighs, heels that looked about 4-5 inches tall, and clutches that matched their dress. I took a look at my outfit. Comfy slippers, plaid pajama pants, and a long-sleeved shirt with glasses. I was definitely thinking about the idea of going in there to get him. Exactly why was I doing this again? I don't know anymore. I'm here and I can't punk out and leave.

I tried calling him once more. If he doesn't answer this one- I'm going in. It rang. It rang. It rang. As suspected, it went to voicemail.

I quickly thought of ways to look less casual and look more formal. There weren't any shops open at this hour. And then I remembered- Andrea left her dress and shoes in my trunk for a party months ago. I got out of my car and grabbed the dress and the heels which were placed in a bag. The dress reaked of alcohol, and I have no clue why it should smell like alcohol when it's been sitting here for months now. I got into the car and changed into the tight dress that was hard to breathe in. I pulled my glasses off. I sat there looking at the heels, it looked taller than my future. I slipped them in and grabbed my wallet to look like the typical clutched girls. I walked in line, constantly unbalanced and trying to pull down the dress that kept moving upwards to the bottom of my ass.

I had no time to wait so I shoved every girl out of line. The bouncer looked at me enthusiastically-just kidding he looked lifeless.

"ID please." He lifted his hand out. I slipped my ID out, which fell. The night gets better and better doesn't it? Because eventually I have to pick up that ID and that dress is going to move up.

"I got you," the bouncer grabbed it. He took a flash light and shined it on the ID. "Just barely, sorry sweet cheeks. No can do, you're 20. You can't get in to a night club unless you're 21."

"She's with me." A guy came up behind me. He seemed about my age, which I was hoping for. I couldn't see really, without my glasses I felt like I could bump into something any minute. He held my hand and dragged me inside. I walked quickly, trying not to make a fool out of myself while I walk awkwardly.

"I suppose I receive a thank you?" He yelled over the music, letting go of my hand and looking me in the eyes. "Thank you." I smiled.

"Why are you in here anyway?"

"I have to go look for a friend." I scanned the building. My eyes landed on a figure that looked of him but I wasn't sure because I was kind of blind. "Excuse me." I moved around him and managed to walk across the room in these heels. I squinted my eyes and I saw-- it was definitely him.

"Connor!" I screamed over the music. He turned around with two shots he was double-fisting. He was completely faded. He couldn't stand up straight without support from a shoulder.

"Anna?! Oh shit!" He slurred, smiling. He finished his shots and walked over to me. Just one whiff of him and it smelled like the strongest alcohol I've ever smelled in my entire life. "Where's everyone?" I yelled in his ear.

"Who gives a fuck? Relax An, it's a time to be alive right now." He said. I looked around to find familiar faces, and I found Ricky.

"Anna?" Ricky said. "Holy shit, I didn't even notice you!" He came over with a drink in his hand. I smiled uncomfortably. This was not the place I wanted to reunite with a group of old friends, especially when your "kind-of-ex-boyfriend" is drunk as hell and you're wearing your "ex-best friend's" dress and heels that don't even fit, at all.

"Thanks for coming!" He grabbed me and held me tight. The fact that the club was humid already added to the fact that I couldn't breathe in his arms. In under those minutes of speaking to Ricky, Connor kept ordering shots and shots nonstop. It was unbelievable to see someone you thought just drank wine occassionally to drinking shots of hard liquor straight with no chasers.

"Okay well I know I just made an appearance, but I have to stop this guy from drowning in shots so thanks for having me!" I yelled. I grabbed the shot glass from Connor's mouth and set it on the counter.

"Let's go." I held his wrist.

"A little aggressive, are we?" He smirked. I rolled my eyes. "Bye Ricky!" He said as I dragged him through the crowd of people.

"Hey, I didn't get your name!" I bumped into the nice man that helped me get in.

"I'm Anna. I'd really like to stay and chat but I have to go. Thanks again." He saw Connor and had the "fuck, she has a boyfriend" look on his face.

"Yeah buddy. Back the fuck off, she isn't available." Connor pushed him.

And just when I thought I was getting out that club right there, I wasn't.