Stranger

1

I am the eye of the storm, the calm in the middle of chaos, I remain silent, contrast to the hustle and bustle that's naturally created. Chatter of insincere small talk roam, clicks of heels on the wood floor add to the distasteful noise. I stare at the gold drink in my hand, I've sipped a couple of times and each presents an amazing sensation. Beads that adorned the pretentious women in the room could compare to the glistening bubbles that play within the drink. I stand quiet, trying to not be swept away by the crowd, sucked into one meaningless conversation after another. I tap my foot on the ground, no rhythm, no beat to follow.

"People watching?" I hear, I turn to look at the voice intruding on my peace. Debating on whether I should walk away or not.

"somewhat" I don't.

"amazing aren't they" she says, using her own drink to beckon to the people around us. My brows furrow at her comment, what can be amazing with all this nonsense?

"What do you mean?"

"the stories" I shook my head, their stories are boring. uninteresting and mundane.

"can't say I agree with you on that one" she chuckles, this piques my interest, no one has ever found my frankness humorous.

"you can't see it?" she questions, "I didn't mean the stories they tell, I meant the stories they don't" I fell silent, looking back at the sea of people among us I try to see what she meant. the stories they don't tell?

"I dont-" before I could continue she uses her glass, once again, to point at a burly man just a couple of meters away from us.

"gay" she says, I shook my head, surprised at her statement, I study her face to see what kind of joke she was playing at. surely he's not. He has a wife.

"no" I respond "he's not gay" staring at the man, he senses my gaze and waves at me, I wave back as the girl asks,

"how can you be so sure?" she sips her drink and closes her eyes, a soothing feeling washing over her as the liquid did its magic

"he has a wife" I echo my thoughts

"oh? you know him?"

"cousin" her head tilts slightly to the ceiling, as her mouth opened

"ah. well. are you sure?" I was exasperated with such a ridiculous question

"yes, I'm sure he's my cousin" she laughs and I suddenly felt the soothing feeling she just had, my eyes closing at its own accord, odd... I didn't take a sip "Our mothers are sisters"

"I didn't mean that, I meant are you sure he's not gay?"

"how can you suppose that he is?" she bites her finger and squints

"he just is..." not an explanation really "just like how you are" this stops me. Her eyes have shifted and I was the only thing they paid attention to, I suddenly notice every single detail of this woman, her semi-long blonde hair that curled inward to frame her face, her slim fit figure.

"what?" my voice was weak, something I didn't want it to be, not now. It came out almost as a sigh, quiet and reserved; dare I say, afraid.

"are you not?" she asked, the tinge of playfulness in her voice tells me she doesn't need my answer, it tells me that she's sure. "I am rarely wrong about these things"

"I-" she doesn't let me answer, giving me a gorgeous smile and a wink, she disappears into the crowd. A sudden rush of loneliness engulfs me as I find myself missing her presence. How does she know? was she supposed to know? Am I obvious? Is it obvious? I find myself scanning the room for her, wanting to continue the conversation, I realize how in contrast it was to what I was feeling only moments ago. The quiet I had settled into feels uncomfortable, eerie perhaps. I down the rest of my drink silently chasing the relaxed state I was in, this was fruitless as I find myself anxious, craving for answers. Her answers. She shouldn't have known.

--

Leaving the party early was never my intention. Though she was right, people watching was one of my guilty pleasures, I grew weary of it as soon as she took her first steps away from me. I sit on the veranda with a steaming cup of tea, my clothes have shifted to something more comfortable for the night, I try to scribble out ideas on my scarlet leather bound notebook, trying to find words that can help me make sense of anything in this world, anything at all to at least distract me from the events of tonight. A gust of wind goes through, the quiet disturbed by its howl. Cars drove through the road in front of me, I double think if they're as slow as I see them to be, or was I too entranced by my thoughts to actually see their real speed. I decide on the latter. Sipping the drink that could not compare to the golden goodness I had earlier tonight, I let my mind wander. I let my thoughts run wild, enough to distract me from the statements that caught my tongue. Though try as I might, it always seems to revert back to her. Those deep eyes and dimpled smile. The feeling I had when she asked, when she uttered those words, so sure of who I was, more so than myself. It was exhilarating, though guilt prompted my heavy heart, the excitement was more than I could bear. It felt like I was holding on to a sin, a secret I've held to keep myself and those I loved, safe. A secret that now a complete stranger had in her grasp. I start to wonder if I'll ever see her again..