Page 60 of A World Apart
The night passed in a pleasurable buzz of lights and thumping beats that were so loud they almost sounded muffled, but that might have been the buzz dulling my senses. We danced, mostly together but sometimes with others, especially a group of girls we met in the bathroom who were on a work trip from Sacramento. Our group expanded when, inevitably, a group of men wound their way in-between our number, posturing like exotic birds, with their gelled-up hair and patterned shirts. I laughed so loud and so long that somewhere along the way, I forgot to be sad and confused and instead, I just had fun.
When Becka dragged me off the dance floor, I protested, only stopping my whining when she shouted, very loudly, that she didn’t want to, “queue with all the other peasants,” when the club closed in an hour. So, I followed her out, grabbing my bag from the bag check in the foyer on the way out and together, we stood outside while she ordered an Uber.
I swayed on my feet, still feeling the music whizzing through my veins, along with the copious amount of alcohol. The chill night air felt nice on my over-heated skin, and I tipped back my head, enjoying the sensation of feeling so light and so at peace with the world.
Becka was grumpy, I could tell by the way she just stood there, head down and arms crossed, but then she always was a morose drunk, whilst I − I was prone to joy and joyous things, like chips and ice cream.
“Can we get a takeaway?” I sing-songed at Becka, who only frowned at me like I’d said something really weird. “Take out? Now? Ky, it’s like, late.”
“Yeah, yeah I get you, but like, I’m super hungry. It was all the dancing,” I said, patting my tummy, like this proved my point.
“It was all the beer, more like,” she muttered, and I nodded sagely in agreement. There had been beer.
“Do we have crisps at home? Oh, oh and dip. Do we have crisps and dip?”
“Babes, it’s nearly 1:00am. You can’t eat chips and salsa at 1:00am.”
“Why not?” I demanded, outraged.
Becka just sighed, but then a silver Honda with an Uber sticker in the window pulled up to the kerbside, a middle-aged woman leant out of the window, “Rebecca?” After confirming the name of the driver, we piled into the back.
Becka was quiet the whole way home, but I didn’t mind the silence because my brain was still so nice and fuzzy, my skin tingling in that good way it did after a lot of dancing and drinks. The bad times were still there, underneath my cozy buzz blanket, but I was not so inclined to lift it up and inspect it. I was, however, very interested in snacks, and all I could think about the whole drive home was what was left in the cupboard.
Not too long later, I was rummaging through the cupboards when, with triumph, I pulled out a box of Ritz crackers.
“Ah-ha!” I cried out with joy, doing a happy hop from one foot to the other. It felt really nice to flex my feet, newly freed from their stiletto prisons.
Becka was still very grumpy, but as I spun around to share my spoils, I also saw her putting my phone back on the counter. Catching my eye, she looked guilty, but defiant.
“What are you doing with my phone?” I asked, putting down my box of crackers.
“Texting the idol.” She raised her chin.
“I − you-WHAT?” I spluttered. “Why?”
“Because someone had to remind him you exist!” She bit out sharply. I didn’t know how to respond, because I knew she wasn’t taking this out on me, not really. She never talked about Ben, or what went down, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out she was still hurting and whatever she’d just sent to Jihoon was a reaction to that.
“Forget it, you’re right. I’m going to bed.” Becka sighed and got to her feet, heading towards her bedroom. I watched her, mouth agape as she shut the door quietly behind herself.
“But, I didn’t even say anything,” I said to myself. The cracker triumph of a few minutes ago didn’t seem so… triumphant now. I sighed as I put them back in the cupboard and instead, pulled my phone towards me. Becka had left it open on the message app, my green, little text bubble almost glowing with accusation.
Me
If ur going 2 brush Ky off, at least have the decency 2 tell her. Ghosts r 4 movies.
Not her most eloquent work, but succinct, all the same. Quietly, I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. I was way too buzzed to deal with this and it was stealing my joy.
I shuffled over to my room and tossed my phone onto my bed, opting to kick the can down the road in favour of a shower.
I took my time, as well, even chucking a shower fizz in for good measure. The eucalyptus scent worked wonders on my brain, and by the time I was done, wrapped in a fluffy towel and hair wrap, my head was much clearer. I did note, however, that Jihoon still hadn’t replied by the time I closed my bedroom door behind me. I had debated sending a follow-up message to assure him of… what, I wasn’t sure but decided against it. My own curiosity demanded some sort of yes or no confirmation and, as clear as my head felt, my stomach felt clenched in knots.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep like this, so instead I settled on going through a proper skincare routine − the kind I’d seen on TikTok so often but never had the time or energy to properly emulate.
And because fate is a funny thing, my phone buzzed with an incoming call just as I was running leave-in conditioner through the ends of my hair.
I picked up my phone to see an incoming video call from Jihoon. In a burst of anxious energy, I tried to arrange myself to look as casual, but put-together as possible before nervously accepting the call.
Immediately, his almost-painfully handsome face filled the screen, like so many videos I had seen of him doing Lives and Insta Stories, that for just a second, I forgot where I was. He was leaning back on what looked like a sofa, so I guessed that he was at home, maybe.
