WHITNEY'S HOUSE
"Hey,
Alex!" a girl he recognizes
from some other party calls out as she dances past him. For a moment Alex
leans off of the wall, thinking that she's going to stop and make small
talk. Thankfully, she keeps going.
He moves his head and shoulders slightly
to the music, keeping with the beat without making too much of a spectacle
of himself. He tosses back another slug of his drink and shakes the plastic
cup to check how much he has left.
He settles his weight back against
the wall and takes in the scene all around him. Bobbing bodies, grinding
couples, drinks everywhere ... Somehow he feels removed from it all. But
maybe that's just because it's been so long since he got out.
Truthfully, he is glad that
Jason talked him into coming, even though he feels a bit awkward right
now. He knows that it's good to get out and socialize and do stuff ...
and he has missed it. It just hasn't felt like the right thing to do in
so long.
He isn't even sure that it feels
like the right thing now. He's not even sure why he came -- except that
when Jason got on the phone, he couldn't say no. He knew he couldn't from
the moment that Jason spoke.
This has to stop. He knows it has
to. And he thought it had -- at least, he hoped that all this time apart
from the others would help. But it didn't, he can tell that much. Not one
bit.
You have to stop this, his
mind warns him, and he feels the same old battle revving up inside himself.
And he knows that despite every warning
his mind might issue, he still won't listen.
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