5 DAYS
The club was dark. Dark and very, very red. The lights were red, the seats were red, the walls were red. Andy was pretty sure even the floor was red, or at least a good part of it. Why name a red building lime? Or paint a building called lime red? She leaned back against the railing behind her as she sipped from her bottle of beer, trying not to look obviously revolted by the taste of it. Looking around the sparsely occupied nightclub Andy realised the dotted white light being cast on the walls was coming from a disco ball hanging high near the ceiling. Glancing back at the floor, she was disappointed not to see a single familiar face. Oh well, she thought, braving another sip of the amber liquid, what do you expect a week from Christmas? Everyone else is out shopping for last-minute gifts or sitting on airplanes on their way to visit family. Sitting on planes for hours just so the whole family can be together at Christmas- not me though, she thought bitterly, or Phyra, she added mentally, glancing across at the waitress weaving through the people. The dark-haired girl was wearing an expression that clearly said ‘I hate Christmas.’ Andy sighed, she knew Zephyra was in a similar situation to her; she was new in the city and her family was in a completely different province. Andy’s family, however, was in England. Only a month after her mum had made the move, Andy herself had moved; she had arrived in Vancouver in August. It was December now, and the job she was working didn’t earn her enough money to allow her to fly to England for the holidays. Her thoughts drifted to her family, an ocean away, before they were interrupted as someone bumped into her. She looked up into the face of a 1993 Dave Gahan look-alike.
“Sorry,” he grinned, slipping past. Andy returned the expression.
“No problem.” Very cute. I wonder if he likes Depeche…? Andy, don‘t be dumb. She turned her attention back to the stage where three overweight men had started clearing things away and taping papers to the ground. Andy thought briefly how disappointed she was in the appearance of the technicians. They should be a lot thinner… and attractive… A couple behind her started talking about the opening band and how they seen then a few months back and thought they were great. I wonder if they’re anything like the Raveonettes? She paused for a minute, Phyra will kill me if she sees me sitting here on my own… I should be ‘mingling’… nah. Pulling her phone out of her jacket pocket, Andy checked the time: 8:15. Okay good, I have survived fifteen minutes of standing awkwardly by myself… only an hour and fifteen minutes longer… till the opening band comes on… what were they called? Something Mode? She swished her bottle around and looked down at her short black dress and white half-jacket, half-wishing she had worn something different. Stop being paranoid, it’s fine. Everything’s fine. At least there aren’t any creepy old men, she thought, remembering the bar in her hometown. She had turned back to the stage when she felt a tap on her shoulder.
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Just the very beginning as the rest is in a notebook in a box in Canada, and I am not even in Canada.
xx A.
The club was dark. Dark and very, very red. The lights were red, the seats were red, the walls were red. Andy was pretty sure even the floor was red, or at least a good part of it. Why name a red building lime? Or paint a building called lime red? She leaned back against the railing behind her as she sipped from her bottle of beer, trying not to look obviously revolted by the taste of it. Looking around the sparsely occupied nightclub Andy realised the dotted white light being cast on the walls was coming from a disco ball hanging high near the ceiling. Glancing back at the floor, she was disappointed not to see a single familiar face. Oh well, she thought, braving another sip of the amber liquid, what do you expect a week from Christmas? Everyone else is out shopping for last-minute gifts or sitting on airplanes on their way to visit family. Sitting on planes for hours just so the whole family can be together at Christmas- not me though, she thought bitterly, or Phyra, she added mentally, glancing across at the waitress weaving through the people. The dark-haired girl was wearing an expression that clearly said ‘I hate Christmas.’ Andy sighed, she knew Zephyra was in a similar situation to her; she was new in the city and her family was in a completely different province. Andy’s family, however, was in England. Only a month after her mum had made the move, Andy herself had moved; she had arrived in Vancouver in August. It was December now, and the job she was working didn’t earn her enough money to allow her to fly to England for the holidays. Her thoughts drifted to her family, an ocean away, before they were interrupted as someone bumped into her. She looked up into the face of a 1993 Dave Gahan look-alike.
“Sorry,” he grinned, slipping past. Andy returned the expression.
“No problem.” Very cute. I wonder if he likes Depeche…? Andy, don‘t be dumb. She turned her attention back to the stage where three overweight men had started clearing things away and taping papers to the ground. Andy thought briefly how disappointed she was in the appearance of the technicians. They should be a lot thinner… and attractive… A couple behind her started talking about the opening band and how they seen then a few months back and thought they were great. I wonder if they’re anything like the Raveonettes? She paused for a minute, Phyra will kill me if she sees me sitting here on my own… I should be ‘mingling’… nah. Pulling her phone out of her jacket pocket, Andy checked the time: 8:15. Okay good, I have survived fifteen minutes of standing awkwardly by myself… only an hour and fifteen minutes longer… till the opening band comes on… what were they called? Something Mode? She swished her bottle around and looked down at her short black dress and white half-jacket, half-wishing she had worn something different. Stop being paranoid, it’s fine. Everything’s fine. At least there aren’t any creepy old men, she thought, remembering the bar in her hometown. She had turned back to the stage when she felt a tap on her shoulder.
--- ---
Just the very beginning as the rest is in a notebook in a box in Canada, and I am not even in Canada.
xx A.
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