Mad Woman✓

0. Dancing is a dangerous game

"You asked me to dance but I said, "Dancing's a dangerous game..." 

   POV JOE ALWYN:

Weddings.

They make me feel weird.

Two human beings promising each other to always stay together. And then they actually bind themselves to each other with a ring. Or any other ornament.

They make me feel weird, but I also really love them.

Because they are beautiful. A human promising the human they love most to always stay with them and then being bound to them with a ring - or any other ornament. It's special. It's a beautiful decision to spend the rest of your life with that one person.

I walk to the bar, sit down on one of the tall stools and order a drink.

I lean back, my elbow resting on the bar, and watch the party that's going on in front of me, even though my mind isn't really here.

I meet Grace's gaze and smile at her. She is talking to one of her friends and chuckles, straightening her beautiful white dress. She notices me and smiles back and winks.

I wave shortly and then continue to look at all the other people. Everybody's laughing, dancing and singing.

The bridesmaids are all wearing soft-lilac dresses and they all have their hair up. And everybody is wearing other soft pastel-ish colours.

The suit I'm wearing is sky-blue with a black tie and black shoes. It's simple, but it fits the overall feel of the party.

It is kind of the theme of the wedding, I guess. I like how it looks; nice and happy. Just like everyone here right now.

And I'm sitting here worrying about work, trying not to bite my nails. All I can think about is numbers and important people in the industry because it's all I have that keeps me together right now.

I need another drink.

And a lot more after that.

The stool next to mine scratches over the hardwood floor when somebody sits down next to me, a woody scent reaching my nostrils.

I look up and suck in a breath.

A woman is sitting next to me now and is staring at the party, a bored expression written all over her face. Even though she seems a little tense.

She is wearing a short skin-tight black dress that covers her arms, and black high heels. The black ink of a snake tattoo is visible beneath the hem of her dress. She looks nothing like the people here.

It's like she didn't plan to come at all, just happened to end up here tonight.

Instead of in some kind of dark club with loud electronic music.

She orders an Old Fashioned and drinks it with big gulps, not paying any attention to me.

Her bleached curls just reach her shoulders and she's wearing a deep wine-red lipstick. Black eyeliner and glitters shine above her electrifying blue eyes.

I have to admit... she is gorgeous. Drop-dead gorgeous.

And I know I'm not this guy, but I'm a little tipsy right now and I would love to know who she is.

Because she doesn't seem to belong - she's like a black and white polaroid between coloured ones. Different, but somehow in a good way.

"Hi", I say, leaning towards her. I have to raise my voice because of the loud music.