Content Warnings: ableism
The music was uncomfortably loud as people danced in the center of the room. Ramona had dragged me here, insisting I have some fun after finally turning in my application to the Strokes.
I stood beside her, trying to listen to the conversation she was having with a small group of people from her workplace.
“Atneklrfmdslktuiheijrokelmdskmrjeifdjlkmped,” one of them said.
The group laughed.
“What did he say?” I asked the woman beside me.
“Later, later,” she replied, waving her hand dismissively at me as she said it.
“Right,” I muttered, sipping on my drink. I walked away from them and sat at the bar, which was the furthest I could get from the instruments of the band.
The group still chatted and laughed among themselves. Ramona hadn’t even noticed I’d left.
Someone tapped my shoulder. When I turned to the man beside me, he asked, “Wewiejda dewjitnefkdsfshie?”
I stared at him for a moment. “What?”
“I awekmtetknejdimfsnadlamce.”
“What?” I repeated.
“You could’ve just said no!”
I jumped back at his shout, a sharp sting piercing my chest. He walked off, mumbling something under his breath.
This wasn’t fun at all.
After I paid the bartender, I returned to Ramona and her little side group. “Hey, I’m pretty tired,” I told her. “I’m gonna head home.”
“Oh, are you sure?” she replied. “We haaejtknlerhefudjisere that long.”
I glanced at Ramona’s friends, all of them talking in three conversations at once. A trumpet blared.
“I’m sure.”
Ramona frowned. “Alright, good night, Dax.”
I waved a quick goodbye and stepped out onto the quiet street, the stars dimly shining through thick gray clouds. With a sigh, I began my stroll back home.
As I passed by the city square, I noticed a figure on a nearby bench. In a sleeveless white shirt and knee length pink skirt, they were slumped forward, looking down at the ground. Their hands, each fingernail painted a different color, hung limply over their knees.
“Leslie?” I called, stopping in front of the bench.
They looked up, their eyes bloodshot and puffy. “Hey,” they replied quietly.
“Is… everything alright?” I asked.
Leslie grimaced. “Not even a little.” They paused, eyeing me curiously. “I could ask you the same thing. You don’t exactly look like you’ve been having the time of your life.”
I threw up my hands, sitting down next to Leslie with a huff. “The party Ramona dragged me to wasn’t as fun as she made it out to be.”
Leslie chuckled.
“And I take it the art exhibit wasn’t great either?”
“Oh, no, it was great,” they replied. “Absolutely gorgeous.”
“But…?”
Leslie closed their eyes, leaning their head back against the bench. “The people not so much.”
I stared out at the platform in the center of the square as we sat in silence. I didn’t like this – any of it. And the night didn’t have to end this way.
“You know what?” I said, standing up from the bench. “I have a fresh deck of cards at home and a sudden desire to show you how bytes gamble.”
Leslie stared at me with an amused grin.
“What do you say?” I stretched my hand out to them. “Let’s turn this night around.”
“Sure,” they said, taking my offered hand. “I’d love to.”
To be continued…