#2- What Happens Next?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Jenson loses something of value while at a nightclub but gains something far greater.f

Possibly will make more parts?

#2 of 642

Submitted: December 25, 2014

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Submitted: December 25, 2014

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I searched endlessly while the confetti rained down. The bass thumped in my chest.

“Where the fuck are you?” I whispered, barely able to hear my own voice. Sweaty legs gently slid along my hand as a reached down to touch the floor. How could anyone see anything in this dump? I swiped my hand back and forth hoping it would catch onto something. My identity was floating along the floor somewhere. Without it, who was I? A sweat drop raced down to the tip of my nose and gently fell to the sticky floor.

I stood up hopeless. I knew searching for it in this light with hoards of people jumping all around me was pointless. I sighed and turned around. I pushed my way through the sea of people.

“Hey, there you are!” I felt a tap on my shoulder. My eyes met a girl. Her wavy brown hair cascaded down her head and caressed her shoulders. Her electric blue eyes seemed familiar. Then, I remembered how my eyes were painted the same color. Weird. People always commented on them. It’s like people have never seem blue eyes before.

“Your eyes are so…cool looking...” they’d say. Yes. I know. They are. Thanks. But never had I met someone who shared the pain. Her hand, holding my worn, black wallet, reached out to me.

“I knew you had to be in here somewhere!” She said cheerfully. I smiled and expressed my gratitude.

“I can’t even thank you enough. My license, my credit cards…” I shouted while making sure everything was still in my wallet, “I’d be fucked.” I leaned in close to her ear to make sure she heard me.

“Thank you.” I turned to walk away when she grabbed my shoulder.

“You know,” she yelled in my ear, “Typically, I’d just turn it into the bouncer or the bartender or something. I just wanted to find you because when I looked at your wallet, I saw we have the same birthday.” I acted interested.

“No way! What a coincidence, haha.” I laughed.

“Yeah, I figured I’d be doing my non-biological birthday brother a favor.”

“Haha, well thanks for looking out for me, non-biological birthday sister.” I chuckled. After just a few words, I felt connected with her. Not in a romantic way. More of a friend way. We joked back and forth before deciding to stumble to the bar to order drinks.

“Jami Reynolds…” she said as she took a seat on the bar stool.

“Jen---“

“Jenson Young, I know. I owned your identity for a moment, remember?” I smiled.

“So what brings you to the Mecca of all nightclubs?” I turned my hands upward and presented the room to Jami.

“I’m here with my girlfriends from high school.” She pointed to a girl in a black dress banging her head. The girl’s hair flew in every direction.

“There’s one of them.” She said, puzzled by the girl’s dance moves. I erased the scared look from my face.

“Yeah, I come here every now and then to hang out…meet people…”. Her tilted her head down and gave meet a “meet people, huh?” kind of look.

“To meet friends!!! Strangers…tourists. Anyone. I like to meet people. I like to know their stories, I like to hear about their day.” Her head tilted back to its normal position. Our eerily similar eyes met. She listened.

“Everyone has their own story. Sometimes things you wouldn’t even think of. I’ve heard of love and loss and happiness and grief.” I shook my head. “It’s amazing what you can see by closing your eyes and listening for just a second.” She took a sip of her beer and smirked.

“You sound like the inside of a hallmark card.” She laughed. I sat there wearing a defeated smile. Maybe I did sound cheesy. But as I sat across from her, I couldn’t help but wonder. I wanted to know the ups and downs, the good and bad, the light and dark parts of her life. I didn’t know why, but I desperately wanted to know her story.

Little did I know, I was already a part of it.

 


© Copyright 2018 Taylor Cole. All rights reserved.

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