𝕡𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕔 - 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕞𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕤
"The music that they constantly play
it says nothing to me about my life
hang the bloody DJ"
Hendrix POV
"Come on, Hen! Have a drink, let loose. Live a little!" Stacey hollers louder than necessary to be heard over the booming music. The pounding of the base and the cheers of people drive my head into a new level of hurt.
It's a big party, and one of the first nights since school started that we can actually do something to take our minds off of studying.
College does seem like a very mature thing, but my best friends and I are only 18. Which, if I remember correctly, is under the legal drinking age, thank you very much.
"I'm good." I insist, holding up my red solo cup filled with Mountain Dew, though I've only taken a few sips here and there. The acidic taste isn't exactly my cup of tea, but it's the only non-alcoholic beverage available here.
Stacey's pretty face scrunches up in disapproval, but she continues dancing with fast, jittery movements that somehow come across graceful. The girl couldn't look clumsy if she tried.
Her short, black hair is full of pink streaks that catch the flashing lights as she twirls and laughs. A pair of cat ears perched on her head.
Stacey is the epitome of a partier, and she isn't afraid to show it.
As cliche as it sounds, I have always hated parties. Not that I feel like I'm somehow above people who do enjoy the party scene, but it's definitely not my scene.
The humidity between the sweaty bodies, the stench of beer on every person's breath, and the constant crowd of leering guys catcalling and flirting like there's no tomorrow. It's all too chaotic.
I can't see how anyone can find it fun, but to each their own I suppose.
And then there's the music, oh how I hate the music. It's always the same. Loud, pulsing pop and rap songs that millennials eat up like a five course meal.
Stacey and Miranda, my two best friends, call me a music snob for my complaints. I consider myself more of a music expert, personally.
I don't judge people for liking what's on the radio. Music is freedom, and that's what's so great about it. Everyone has their own, personal taste.
Party music just makes me... sad.
There are millions of songs, albums, and genres. Music has been recorded since the 1870's, that's almost 150 years worth of music, but people still insist on listening to what everyone else is listening to.
I can never understand why anyone would settle for exclusively listening to what's popular when there is a whole world of recorded music to discover, that's all it is. No snob here. Not me.
It makes absolutely no sense to me, but that does not make me some hipster.
"Waaaahooo!!!" Stacey slurs, and I look up to see her sitting on a football player's broad shoulders.
She raises two beers in the air, the crowd of people around us erupting in cheers and screams loud enough to burst an eardrum or two.
Stacey turns both bottles upside down above her mouth, dowinging the sewage quickly as everyone chants "chug!" in unison.
People begin to crowd around me, and being a small person I begin to get lost in the swarm as I'm jerked and smooshed around.
I try to breathe, try to stay calm, but I can't. I desperately begin clawing at people, trying to get air. I'm in a sea of people being swept to the bottom by the current.
A hand wraps around my arm, pulling me out and to the side. I squeak in terror, horrified that I'm being dragged.
"Are you okay?" Miranda. It's just Miranda. Calm washes over me and I nod profusely, trying to reassure her.
"I was just, uh...checkin' out the floors. They're nice. Mahogany I think."
It's too embarrassing to admit that I was nearly trampled to death. I don't exactly have a great track record for being graceful.
"Some party, huh?" She asks, ignoring my strange rambling, observing the ongoing crowd with a small spark of excitement in her eyes. Miranda isn't as party crazy as Stacey, but she does like these type of things a heck of a lot more than I do. Anyone could see that.
"Looks bout the same as every other party y'all drag me to." I comment dryly, observing Stacey as she crowd surfs while she sings along to whatever song is currently blaring on.
Miranda smiles down at me, shrugging her thin shoulders with a look of innocence.
"Tomorrow it's back to classes. Why not have some fun to forget for a little bit?" She says, winking at me.
"Well, the forgetting part looks like it's workin, because Stacey doesn't seem to remember she has to wake up at 7 tomorrow. I would hate to imagine the pain of her hangover." I snort, and Miranda and I both laugh out loud.
"Yeah. Somehow I think she'll be alright." She says, but I don't question the strange comment.
Eventually, we try to make our way to the front of the frat house. I say try because we're stopped many times by leering dudes who can't keep their eyes off of the fabulous Miranda.
She's a leggy girl that tops at 6'2". Her light, strawberry blonde hair is swept into a ponytail, and her fantastical eyes are eerily similar to the color of the sky in the spring. Not to mention the strange... power that oozes from her.
It's hard not to be drawn to her. She is easily the prettiest girl in this house. Scratch that, the prettiest girl on campus. Hands down.
She turns down every guy that speaks to her, they're all drunk anyways, otherwise they wouldn't have the courage to talk to her let alone look for too long. That's the way it's always been. Even in high school.
Stacey and I have been friends since the 8th grade. Miranda moved into town halfway through Junior year. My two best friends are cousins, even though they look nothing alike. They even lived in the same gated community, and for Mississippi that's very rare.
Being the poorest state, there aren't many people with money, but Miranda and Stacey are part of the lucky minority. All three of us became really close, so close that we're basically sisters, and I can't imagine my life without them.
"Hey guys!!! Wait... uh.. ladies!!!" Stacey shouts as she runs towards us, pushing past people with her elbows.
Her face is flushed pink, her smile contagious even though it's alcohol induced. She bumps into me in her haste, splashing my Mountain Dew onto her shoes.
"Oopsies!" She giggles and sloshes her heels in the soda as she begins marching in place. "That's okay. I already spilled some beer on them."
I shake my head and smile, Stacey is fun to be around when she's drunk. Carefree and lighthearted. When she's sober she can be a bit pissy, and too sassy.
She slings her arm over my shoulder, leaning on my smaller body as she laughs some more for no reason. Miranda and I watch her with humor filled gazes. This side of our friend amuses us.
We eventually maneuver her through the front door and out onto the lawn. Miranda and I work together to help her walk, Miranda being the one doing most of the work seeing as how much stronger she is than me.
As we neared Stacey's 2007 Subaru Outback, she yips with glee when she spots her little car.
"Yay driving! I get to drive. Vroom, vroom, bitch!" She shouts and I share a mischievous grin with Miranda as we hold back our giggles.
"I don't think you'll be driving tonight, Stace." I explain as we reach the car. Miranda takes the keys out of her purse and unlocks the doors. We open the back and try to get Stacey to climb in.
"I'm not even that drunk. I only had like 52 beers and a few full bottles of vodka. And those margaritas weren't that strong, so those don't even count." I raised an eyebrow at her words, knowing full well that if she had that much alcohol she would be dead.
Miranda gave her a stern glare for some odd reason, before she continues to shove our very drunk friend into the vehicle. After a few minutes, we finally have Stacey situated and buckled in.
I go around the car and slide in next to her so I can keep a close eye on her. Miranda cranks the car, and it rumbles to life. We take off down the street towards our shared apartment.
Stacey snuggles next to me and slumps down into my lap, resting her head on my thighs and sighing contently. I run my fingers through her hair gently, trying to sooth her to sleep.
"Oh, Henny. I love you so much." She says, and I smile.
"I love you too, Stacey." I reply, making eye contact with Miranda in the rear view mirror. Amusement filles her blue eyes before returning to the dark road.
"I wish you could never die." Stacey says, and I hold back a laugh. She's making no sense.
"Then you could live with me and Miranda for the rest of forever." She mumbles, and I snicker a little bit.
I try to look at Miranda again, but her eyes are fixed on the road with determination. Her hands are gripping the steering wheel tightly, and from where I sit, I can see her jaw is clenched. That's strange.
I tilt my head in confusion. She's probably just tired of Stacey's drunk ramblings. Miranda is usually super patient, I wonder absently why she's acting so weird. Maybe she's just stressed about school or something.
Brushing it off, I nestle into the seat and close my eyes, exhaustion from the night finally taking over.
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Screeching fills the apartment and I immediately cover my ears to protect them from the shrill sound.
My crazy best friend is running around our apartment overturning everything trying to find her favorite heeled booties.
"Where the hell are they!" Stacey squeaks, falling to the floor to look under the couch. Peering down at my bowl of cereal, I smirk to myself.
Of course Stacey woke up late, and I'm guessing it has something to do with all of that drinking last night.
She doesn't seem affected by a hangover in the least bit, and I attribute it to sheer luck. Maybe her body is immune at this point, getting used to the party life. I wouldn't be surprised.
"I swear I will tear down the walls if I can't find them! I'm not going anywhere until they're on my feet!!!" Stacey begins going through our kitchen cabinets in her search, even though the cupboards are all but empty.
We only moved in two months ago, and we've yet to buy enough dishes or food to fill them all. Not to mention Stacey keeps most of her food stashed under her bed like an animal saving up food for the winter.
"Found them!" I hear Miranda shout in triumph, she prances into the room, holding them high in the air.
Stacey dashes for them, but our extremely tall friend raises them high above her head so she can't reach them.
"Give! Them!" Stacey's exasperated voice sounds evil as she practically tries to climb Miranda like a tree.
"Only if you promise to leave the drinking for non-school nights." Miranda says in a sing songy voice.
I laugh at the scene in front of me.
We don't yet have cable in our apartment, but this is all the entertainment I need.
"Fine! Fine! You win!" Stacey grumbles, holding out her hands, finally rewarded with her favorite shoes.
As soon as she gets her fingers around them, she's hastily strapping them onto her feet as she sits in the middle of the kitchen floor. That cold tile can't be comfortable.
She jumps up, wiping her pants off and doing a dramatic twirl as if she's a model.
"Don't you think your makeup is a little dramatic for school?" Miranda inquires, sliding into a chair across from me and snagging the box of Waffle Crisp that sits in front of me.
"Yeah. Shimmer eyes are a bit glam for a business management class." I manage with a mouth full of half chewed cereal.
This morning, despite waking up late, Stacey decorated her beautiful asian eyes with loads and loads of orange glitter.
It's not unusual for her to go overboard with eye makeup, and a lot of people give her weird looks, but she doesn't seem to care at all.
Stacey glares at us as she picks her purse up off the coat hanger and slings the strap onto her shoulder.
"I look great. Y'all are just jealous." She shrugs her shoulders and with a smile opens the door and rushes out, slamming it behind her.
I honestly feel bad, she has the first class of the day at 8:00 all alone. All of us have classes at different times, seeing as how we all chose different majors.
Mine, of course, is music. I have to take music theory and music composition this semester.
Some of my other courses are exiting too, I'm taking some English courses, so instead of settling for some basic English class, I chose Literature History.
My schedule is packed mostly because on top of my classes I work long hours, which is a bit overwhelming. I need to pay my way through school all by myself after all.
"Alright. Well, I'm bored. I'm going to check out that little coffee shop on campus." Miranda stands, and stretches out her long arms, "Hey, how about you come with?"
I shrug my shoulders, it sounds good to me. Hot chocolate doesn't sound too bad in the cold. It's almost October in a couple of weeks after all, and this Mississippi girl isn't used to the chilly, autumn breezes up North.
After getting dressed, we walk to campus. It takes us no time at all to find the little coffee shop. All we had to do was follow our noses.
When we get inside, the place is buzzing with life. College students go about chatting and laughing it up. The smell of fresh coffee and cinnamon rolls fills the air, and it's toasty warm inside.
I like the atmosphere very much.
"What do you want?" Miranda asks, squinting at the menu like she can't see it well, which is an act if I ever saw one. We all know she has crazy amazing eyesight.
Another one of her flawless qualities.
"Just a small hot chocolate." I say, glancing around for an empty table for us. Spotting one, I make my way towards it as Miranda gets in the long line.
I slide into one of the chairs, observing the busy coffee shop around me. Nobody seems to pay me much attention, which I like. As I'm glancing at the artwork on the walls, a loud guy's voice erupts behind me.
"Did you hear about what that guy saw in the woods this week?" Someone asks, and I look over my shoulder to see a small group of people sitting in the table beside ours.
Not wanting to be caught staring, I quickly turn back around.
"Well, he was like walking around, trying to find his dog that ran off. Anyway, he says he heard a twig snap, and when he turned around he saw a bunch of wolves." A few gasps are heard from the group, and I stiffen at the thought. There aren't wolves in Virginia, everybody knows that.
"Yeah, and he said they were all staring at him like he was some piece of meat." A shudder goes through my body, but I tell myself not to listen. The guy is lying, and there's no probably about it.
"Then, out of nowhere, a ginormous one showed up. Like as tall as the trees or some shit. Guy says it was pure white with black, evil eyes."
"Alex, stop! You're just trying to scare us." Some girl says, and I can't help agreeing with her.
He needs to stop spreading rumors. There is no way there were any wolves here, especially ones of impossible size.
"I didn't say it was true, babe. Just saying the guy was on the news telling his story and I thought it was hilarious. He's just some crazy old drunk. I mean, he lives in a trailer!" I cringe at that last part since I've lived in a trailer my whole life.
They continue their conversation, but I tune it out as my thoughts take over.
The guy is probably a crazy old man or junkie that hallucinated the whole thing, or someone who just really craves attention. I try to shrug it off, but this strange sensation of foreboding climbs up my spine.
As I try to figure out what's happening to me, Miranda suddenly appears. She has a weird look in her eyes as she gazes at the kids behind me that are now laughing, completely moving on from their previous conversation.
"Uh... hey?" I say, grabbing her attention. She looks at me, then back to the group before she finally sits down. Miranda pushes my hot chocolate towards me.
"Thanks." I say, reaching for my wallet to pay her back.
"Don't mention it. And money won't be necessary. It's on me." She flashes a knowing smile at me.
I'm poor, I've always been poor. It's a simple fact of life I have learned to accept.
"You sure?" I ask, knowing the answer. Her and Stacey always buy things for me and refuse to take any compensation. My friends are too generous.
"Positive." She replies, but her eyes remain focused on something behind me, looking like she's lost deep in thought.
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If you're reading this, you're a beautiful person:)