Sweet Jane

She had the sweetest of all smiles. I knew that for sure. I have seen a lot of girls smile in my twenty five years of existence, but hers would always somehow make me go weak at the knees. Maybe it’s funny, but I always catch myself gazing at her a little longer than I should. Not directly into her eyes of course, no, rather from a distance so that no one can actually see how she has got me under her spell. You could call me a complete freak and I would probably agree. Say that I’m in love and I would blame it on the alchohol. Guys like me don’t fall in love or at least we try not to. Judges would say it’s a lost case, or maybe I am. We’re the ones who are watching from the side how the game is played, with nothing more than just the desire to ever be the best player on the field. It’s hard to explain, but at one point in our lives we all meet someone for whom we would give the impossible a try. So tonight I’m going to try and talk to her.

She was standing in the corner next to the bar. The light in the club was dimmed but the neon sign above her head embraced the silhouette of her luscious curls just perfectly. I noticed her talking to another girl, whose name I could not recall. I didn’t care though for she was burdening the sight of the most beautiful thing in the room. I could not tell what she was holding in her hands, but I bet it was a glass of red wine. She only drinks red wine. I wish I was a glass of red wine, held by her soft hands and kissed by her sweet lips. What a blessing life would be. Time for another drink.

I got up as quickly as I fell down. I didn’t want anyone to notice my stumbling and especially not Jane, sweet Jane, so I stayed down for a while and acted out a dance move I had seen on television, called ‘The Worm’. I lifted my legs behind me and made sure I did some kind of wave-ish motion with the rest of my body, whilst keeping my arms on the ground, hands right next to my chest. I didn’t quite know what to do with my facial expressions for I had never seen a worm show any kind of emotions, so I decided to put on my best poker face. It was not the most comfortable position to be in for a long time and my twig arms were unable to support whatever this was, so I gave up. God, I definitely did not want to be a worm.

By the time I got up, every single person in the club had stopped doing what they were doing and had chosen to surround me and stare. But not like the way I stared at Jane, unfortunately. I could tell that some of them were shocked by my actions, questioning what was going on in that miserable little head of mine. Some of them were laughing hysterically, gasping for breath, as if I had taken all the oxygen out of the room to refill my lungs again after my attempt. Others looked at me like they had seen a ghost, eyes filled with fear, trembling hands and skin as white as cocaine. I suddenly remembered I had some left in the right pocket of my jacket.

I have to admit, I did expect some kind of applause after the little show I did, but the only thing I got were laughter and stares. After a while even the music stopped playing, which really did not bother me at all. I think I would have killed that deejay by the end of the evening or I would have at least made it very clear that I did not like his choice of music. I squeezed my eyes and looked at everyone through the locks of hair that had fallen on front of my face. There was a deafening silence filling up the room and I could hear my own heart beat in my chest and blood flow through my veins. I checked the pocket of my jacket to make sure if I really had some left. Very slowly I took the small plastic bag out of my pocket, while keeping my eyes focused on everyone in front of me, like a cowboy reaching for his gun, seconds before the first shot is fired.

I kept the little see through bag hidden in my hand. I did not want anyone to see my little secret and I most definitely did not want to share it, there was barely enough left for me. I took a deep breath, fixed my hair, straightened my jacket and decided to head towards the exit of the club. The first step I took was a hard one, I constantly had the feeling as if I was standing in the ocean getting pushed in every direction by robust waves. Only did I not fall down into the water, softly, but face first on the cold and hard floor, flooded with sweat and beer. I got back on my feet and smiled at everyone to let them know I was alright. The last thing I wanted was for them to worry about me of course.

I opened the door and got hit by the cold air like I had just picked a fight with it. With shivering legs I strolled towards the parking lot and prayed that no soul would mind bothering me anymore. My legs were feeling so heavy and I felt like I had completely lost control over the steps I took. At one point, both legs wanted to go different ways and before I knew, I was down on the floor again and hit my head hard. I looked at my left and saw that the little bag somehow got away. As I tried to reach for it, I noticed it being lifted from the ground by another hand with nails painted red. Light-headed and confused as I was, I looked up. Then I saw, she smiled.

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