Post One: The Clusterfuck
- Britany le Fay
- Apr 18, 2016
- 4 min read
Elli
I didn't know why I had let my friend drag me to the festival. I knew before we even left it was going to be horrible. Thousands of people all standing together, bumping against once another, pretending we all stood in some unison because none of us had anything better to do on a Friday night. It was a giant clusterfuck of awkwardness.
Big crowds had always made me a little uneasy, especially when it was so blatantly obvious most people there were just trying to get laid. I couldn't even remember what the festival was for.
Regardless of my hopeless situation, I had decided getting proper drunk was the only answer. I stole drinks from a flask I had loaded with rum before leaving the house. No way was I taking the chance of getting roofied by some anonymous drink, blacking out, and ending up the unfortunate prize in a gang-bang.
My friend had used a word to describe my paranoia.
I believe it was 'cynicism'.
I had heard worse stories befall innocent people, especially when it came to giant parties such as these. Being drugged was one of my greatest fears, and not just by rohypnol. LSD, mescalin, even coke. I was terrified of the possibilities. My mind would break for sure, I can barely smoke a joint without getting a panic attack.
As I turned the scenarios over in my head, the strong smell of weed crept up my nose. Was the festival a Marijuana March? No...it wasn't 420. I guarded my flask, hugging it closely.
“Whose got the pot!” My friend screeched, nudging me as she flew herself into the crowd. Clearly she had been drinking more than me. I tried to pick out her rusty blonde hair as I moved around the people, avoiding their touch. I saw a couple guys give me the ever so casual nod, but I ignored them.
I couldn't see shit through the masses. I moved closer to the sidewalk (the festival march party had taken over the streets) and I stood on my tippy toes, but I still couldn't see anything. I looked around for something to stand on, the sea of people getting rather rowdy. It was making me nervous. I really wanted to just cut my losses, but I knew Natalie would never let me hear the end of it.
I found a lamppost with a large enough base that I could step up on it. It took me maybe a foot off the ground. I wrapped my one arm around it, holding me steady as I surveyed the crowd. Natalie was nowhere to be seen, in fact, it was hard to pick out anyone.
Then I fucking saw him. I couldn't believe it, as I quickly averted my eyes, trying to climb down from the lamppost. It was too late though, before I jumped down, in a split second, I locked eyes with him. He was already coming towards me, I knew he was.
Natalie, that whore, had promised me he wouldn't be here! Had she actually not known? Or was it part of some weird, twisted plan she had made with him? I tried to rush away, but I could feel him coming towards me. There was such a harsh heat to his aura, it made me sick. I was moving too fast, and I tripped myself, falling into a stranger in front of me. I hated touching people I didn't know, well, I hated touching most people. The stranger caught me.
“Are you alright?” He asked me in a thick accent.
I built my glance upwards, seeking his face. He was so tall! I saw his deep brown eyes first. Then his dark, short, slightly curled hair. Finally my eyes found his full face, and I recognized him immediately.
“Oh...” was all I could say.
“Elli,” I heard my ex's voice behind me.
“Shit...” I muttered, afraid to turn around.
“Is this guy bothering you?” My new tall friend asked me, he was still holding me up from when I bumped into him. It was hard to keep looking up at him when we were so close together.
“No, I'm not bothering her,” my ex snapped, “I'm her fucking boyfriend, who the fuck are you?”
I couldn't believe Paul didn't recognize him! How many times had I asked him to watch that show with me?
Morgan fucking Clery! MORGAN CLERY!
For those of you living under a rock, he was the lead role in that somewhat popular BBC show that ran for seven years. Perhaps more popular in Canada than the States. But I imagine it still got around. He is also starring in a new big Hollywood picture that they are filming in Toronto as we speak. Which I'm assuming is why he's here.
MORGAN. CLERY.
“Ex...” I murmured, staring that the ground.
“I don't think she wants to talk to you, mate.”
Morgan Clery is defending me.
I turned around to face Paul, my 'new' dreaded ex. Morgan's arms dropped from his guarded, life-saving stance.
“Did Nat set this up?” I asked Paul, glancing back at Morgan Clery to see if he was still there.
He was.
“What if she did?” Paul asked, softening his look. But I could feel it, I could feel the bad energy oozing from him.
“Then I suppose I'd have to tell you the same thing I did last time I saw you,” I breathed deeply, unloading a slew of varied curse words at him. I watched his anger build up, but he wouldn't start a fight here. Not with all these people around. It was my saving grace.
“Okay Elli, to be continued,” Paul finally said, backing away. I turned back around to face Morgan Clery, who was staring at me with a certain look. Intrigued, perhaps? Maybe terrified. It was difficult to say.
“Well that was awkward,” I shrugged, slowly beginning to walk towards the alleyway closest to us. I hoped Morgan Clery was following me, I moved my head slightly to look with my peripheral vision.
He was.
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