"Dylan, look at me."
A shrill voice rang in my ears. As the depth within me tried to swallow me whole, her hands slid down from my chest to my pants. I turned around, looking at her with eyes begging for mercy.
"Please, I am telling you. Let this all go."
She didn't hear me. Laying heavily on top of me, she tried to envelop me in her arms. She began kissing me, starting from my neck, trailing down to my shoulders, and moving onto my chest. Her hands passionately moved over me, sliding back and forth from my back to my butt. The only thing left in me was a desperate urge to cry.
I hated myself. I Hated Myself.
In the distance, little Dylan was standing. He looked at me and whimpered slightly. He tried to rub his face, but his tears fell anyway—vividly clear to me now as I saw his face much more distinctly.
The sound of the music was deafening; the DJ was playing with full passion. I guessed they were celebrating something today, but I wondered what it could be. December was still so far away.
*Spill*
"Sir, please be careful."
My attention had drifted for just a moment when it happened. After talking with Samayra, I wasn't fully in my senses, and I was sure she wasn't either. We came here to enjoy ourselves, and I had killed the mood. I pulled out a tissue to clean my hand, now it would probably feel sticky for a long time.
I walked into the bathroom to clean myself up. I washed my face and stared into the mirror, not knowing what to make of the reflection looking back at me. I dried my face and checked my phone.
"Why aren't you calling?"
For the first time in my life, I wished for Miraj to call me. I wanted to end this night in a hurry—I just wanted to escape this awkward situation unfolding around me. I checked again and again, but there was nothing.
Wait, should I just run away? That might be good, but it wasn't as if I would never meet her again. My stomach hurts—yeah, that'll be a good excuse.
Suddenly, the thought of little Daniel returned to my mind. I remembered his small figure as his words revolved around me: I am still far away from becoming that person. If I wanted to clear everything up, I had to face it.
Ugh, then why am I thinking of running away? I shouldn't be like this. Let's face it.
I gave myself a confident smile in the mirror.
*Thud*
At that moment, a man stepped out of a stall. He was fully covered in a black jacket and black pants, with a mask concealing his neck up to his entire face. He glared at me with intense fury, as if he might kill me at any second.
"Do you want something?"
He didn't say a word. His hand slowly moved toward his back pocket. Just then, a group of boys walked into the washroom.
"I told you his coming was a golden moment for us!"
"See? We even got a free party out of it!"
"I'm definitely not paying for you guys next time, though!"
The masked man bolted as soon as he saw them enter. I couldn't understand what he was trying to do.
I walked out as well, searching for Samayra, but she was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she'll be back soon. I stood by the railing near the celebration, waiting for her return.
My heart was pounding faster than ever. Feeling nauseous and consumed by anxiety, I couldn't even think straight. Why was this happening today? Could it be because his words had shaken my heart?
It had happened before, but today felt different. Dylan had always said things that moved my heart, and his actions always made me question what my safe haven really was. But why was I feeling so different now? Was it really a true part of me, or was it something else entirely?
I tried to take a few deep breaths, calming my senses and regaining my composure. I patted my cheeks, trying to feel grounded. I pulled out some pills and swallowed them. Maybe this will refresh me.
Now that I was back in my right mind, let's review everything again.
My name is Samayra. I am a 27-year-old woman. I am a lesbian—which means I like girls, and there is nothing to be confused or afraid about. Who is Dylan? Dylan is my friend—my best friend. He is gay. That means we can never be together, and there is no possible way in hell that we could ever feel differently about each other.
"Ma'am, why are you looking at me with so much anger?"
I snapped back to reality. The girl behind the counter was terrified, looking at me with tears in her eyes as she tried to hand over the money.
"It's not enough, but please don't hurt me!"
It was an awkward moment for both of us. I grabbed my bag and rushed away from the counter. I need to be more careful about where I stand.
I looked around for him, and there he was—my eyes caught Dylan standing near the edge, staring down at his phone.
I made up my mind: no matter what happened, I would not let this night be ruined. I would talk to him and act as if nothing had happened. I walked up to him with confidence and took his hand.
"What are you doing here? I've been looking everywhere for you!"
"It's just… I was in the washroom."
"Shall we go, then?"
Before he could respond, an announcement echoed over the speakers.
"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight marks the 10th anniversary of our Sophomore Souvenirs! To celebrate, we've arranged a dance party for all of you. Let this night be a chance to refresh yourselves and chill out!"
"So, to anyone who wants to join—the stage is yours!"
As the host cheered, many people flooded onto the stage, and the dancing began. I saw this as a great opportunity. I looked at Dylan, he was watching the stage, subtly vibing to the music. His face remained neutral, but I could tell he was a little interested.
I decided to make a move.
"Dylan, let's dance!"
"Who, us? No, I don't want to."
"C'mon, don't throw a tantrum now. I saw you vibing earlier!"
I grabbed his hand and dragged him onto the dance floor.
"But how do we dance?" Dylan asked, sounding unsure.
I guided his hands, moving us in a rhythm. Maybe this is the best way.
Looking around, everyone was dancing joyfully, each person showing off their own style. But amidst the crowd, one man was dancing erratically, pushing through people and stumbling everywhere.
"Ouch!"
"Hey, watch out!"
Stepping on toes, he moved through the crowd ruthlessly. Some people completely forget they aren't the only ones on the floor. He stumbled toward me while I was dancing, completely oblivious to my surroundings. He was about to shove me when—
*Swoop*
Dylan pulled me toward himself. Grabbing my arm with one hand and wrapping his other around my waist, he spun us around, swapping our positions so he stood beside me instead. Glaring angrily at the man, he shouted.
"Hey, man! Watch where you're going!"
The man turned around. He was much taller and broader than Dylan. Looking down at him, he smirked.
"Do you have a problem?"
Dylan met his gaze firmly and said, "Yes. You're pushing everyone. Please pay attention to who's around you."
The man's expression darkened, projecting a terrifying threat that implicitly declared, I am going to kill you. He shifted his arm, and I began trembling in fear. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to watch.
*Pat* *Pat*
"You should've told me sooner," the man said smoothly.
"I get it. My bad."
It was that simple. He patted Dylan on the shoulder and walked away, allowing the party to continue. It was completely unexpected, but what happened next was even more shocking.
"You said you wanted to dance, right?"
Dylan offered his hand to me with a smile. I was still stunned by his sudden bravery, but my hand moved unconsciously to meet his.
"Let's dance."
We moved to the center of the dance floor and began to dance. It was my first time ever seeing him dance like this—he pulled off moves I never imagined he possessed. He was incredible. We spun around, dancing with pure excitement until eventually, all eyes were on us. The crowd cheered and clapped for us.
As the song ended, Dylan dipped my upper body, one arm supporting my waist while the other held my hand. I looked up at him and smiled. It was a wonderful night. It had been a little embarrassing, but in that moment, all my anxiety melted away.
Then, as we both caught our breath, something stirred deep inside me. A sudden rush of intense heat—a fierce craving—surged through my veins. I swallowed hard, staring at his lips. They were so tempting that I couldn't tear my eyes away. My mind scrambled with mixed signals; I couldn't think straight. The only thought consuming me was the burning sensation inside, and I wanted him to feel it too.
*Kiss*
I kissed him without a second thought. It felt amazing, and I didn't want to pull away, but—
"Hey, Sam."
I blinked and looked around. Everyone was clapping for us. Was it a dream? Just a dream?
"What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost,"
Dylan said, pulling me upright and unclasping his arms from around me.
My mind went completely blank. What just happened to me? I was in total shock. I looked at Dylan, who was now clapping along with the rest of the crowd. Overwhelmed, I couldn't calm down—so I ran. I ran as far away as I could.
"Sam." Dylan called out my name, but I didn't stop.
"Here is your present, sir."
"Thank you."
I washed my face again and again, desperately trying to scrub away dirt that wasn't even there. I stared into the mirror with sheer desperation as a burning shame consumed me. What was I thinking? What am I doing? I am a girl who loves girls. I am a lesbian. I am a lesbian. I am…
'People like you and I aren't different. We're the same as everyone else.'
"No, I am different! I am different!"
I'm not like everyone else. I'm just different. I've lived my whole life as… as…
"Are you sure that's the truth?"
A voice echoed, making my legs tremble. Suddenly, a weight settled on my shoulders. A girl was clinging to me with all her strength, one arm draped over my shoulder while the other reached under my armpit. I stood frozen and crying as she slithered her hand around me.
"You've been like this from the very start."
"Just look at these."
She grabbed my chest and squeezed, driving me deeper into my own shame and making me feel utterly pathetic.
"Let yourself go and drown, just like you did before."
Hearing those words, I screamed.
"Nooooooooo!…"
She vanished instantly, like a cloud dissolving into thin air. I wiped my face, drying all my tears. I can't let him know I was crying.
Just as I prepared to step out, someone burst inside.
It was a man in a black hoodie. He looked at me, breathing heavily.
"What are you doing here? This is the ladies washroom!"
He ignored me. I took a step back, he radiated a terrifying presence. He tried to speak, but his words were muffled by his mask. He reached into his pocket, preparing to pull something out.
At that moment, an elderly woman walked in. Spotting the man standing in front of me, she let out a loud roar:
"Hey! Don't you know this is the ladies' washroom?! Get out, or I'll call security!"
He glared at her furiously, yanked his hand out of his pocket, and sprinted away.
This night is so strange.
The older woman came over to ask if I was alright, but I couldn't even process her words. I just ran out of the washroom, not looking back. I sprinted away from the celebration area toward the escalator, but right as I was about to step onto it—
"Sam."
I turned around. It was Dylan, standing there with flowers in his hands. He looked at me and smirked.
The person with whom I had always felt safest was now the person I couldn't trust myself around. How was I supposed to face him after everything that had happened? Is this really the end for our friendship?