Flashback, Part 5: The Exit

Flashback, A Short Story in Six Parts

[Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4]

Part 5: The Exit

Again fighting every base urge in his body, he tried his hardest to act like nothing was wrong. Amy and Lana had all but vanished in a puff of smoke; he bemusedly contemplated echoes of "Arriba! Arriba! Andale! Andale!" in their wake. Oh, shit, he thought, and heaved a deep sigh before Nick got close enough to hear it.

He grasped again at that thin vein of rational thought that implored him to gain control of the situation: "Be happy for him; it's not all about you; it's not a big deal." He struggled desperately to take hold of it, to smile, to be the magnanimous one, if only for the sake of outward appearances. Because the last thing he wanted in the world was to look bad. He was so fucking correct that way.

"Um, so you're taking off?" Nick asked. His voice was softer than usual. Strangely, this was both inappropriate (given the thumpa-thumpa-thumpa of the techno background music) and appropriate (in light of the perceived misstep he had just taken) at the same time.

"Yeah," he replied in exhale.

"... Well, should I come with you?" He was unsure of what to make of that question, but he didn't take the time to think through any of its strange implications. His first thought was that he has simply no desire to share a taxi with this guy for any period of time. His second is a sarcastic one: far be it from me to ruin your fun evening.

A third, much more fleeting thought passed through his head. He wondered if perhaps he had misinterpreted the dance floor scenario, and Nick was asking whether they were going to go home together. That thought was deemed so absurd that he savagely leapt on it, beat in its brains and removed its still-beating heart from its chest. For good measure, he took a bite out of the heart and spit it out on the beer-encrusted concrete floor.

"No," he scoffed, again trying to act as if nothing is the matter with him, despite the fact that, well, he had just scoffed. "Stay. Have fun."

"Are you ...?" Nick started the question, but he didn't finish it, even though no one had interrupted his opportunity to do so. One supposes that the actual adjective which would have finished that interrogatory was irrelevant by this point. He was something, that was for sure, even though he would never admit it.

"... I'm just gonna go now, okay?" he said. "Good night."

He turned around and left the club.

He never saw Nick again.

[Part 6]