Say You Won’t Let Go    Artist: James Arthur

 

 

There is this awesome sensation as I felt my lungs welcome the familiarity of the cigar's smoke. Closing my eyes with the bliss I have grown accustomed to.

Several years, several moments, time ticking. And still, I am stuck. I have nothing to do aside from this, I need to live my life, and I want it to be meaningful. Does living means doing well to others, or is it making the best out of everything? For me? I believed that life needs perfection because life itself is imperfect. For that, I applauded myself. I guess I am a little intelligent that I came with that kind of phrase, and at the same time I concluded that I am indeed dumb. My life, has never been perfect. And it never will, and the time that laid upon in front me is ringing, I closed my ears. Never allowing the sound to enter it and whisper things to me. Make my beliefs and everything I have decided to swerve and slap me in the face saying I told you so. I want to live, I want to be imperfect as long as my life is perfect, well at least to my preferences.

 

I leaned on the bar counter, eyeing several girls in their perfect outfits, dancing their own drunk selves to their satisfaction. They are enjoying, much less I care. All I want is another glass of brandy. One snap of my fingertips, the annoying waiter came flying towards me with a lopsided grin of his. In which I find disgusting by the way.

 

“One more scotch.”

 

“Yes, Miss Yuri.”

 

He scrammed. I laughed. They all treated me like a dying person, who have her last wish as the day of her death is dawning. Such irony. Such truth. I am crippled with every thought of my life going its way that I want.  Just a little more fun, and I guess that will be the completion of it.

 

I grew tired. Partying, going on one night stands, drinking, arguing, and hurting. It is always on the loop. And as much as I want a diversion in it, I can’t seem to find one. Destiny’s very own way of introducing adventures just seems to dislike me. Another irony. I am hot, rich, I am famous. Why does dislike even present in there vocabulary. That I will never know. Never been a fan of destiny. I am a fan of my own driving. My life is my car, I am the controller of it. Even if I decide to smash it in the nearby tree of despair and self-pity. But as I said, I am the driver, and so I decided to be fast, uncontrollable. Unpredictable. I will end up dead anyway. Nothing to lose. Nothing to cry on. As moments and people itself is going in and out of my life like a blur. I can’t care. I can’t.

 

“Whoa, new face.” I hear Lindon mutter beside me. I am drunk enough to even register the sound of the shaker in his hands but my inner consciousness is enough give my neck a small tug to look at his direction. It is dark and my eyes narrowed.

 

Indeed. A new face. Looking a tad out of place with her leather pants and her cardigan, hiding every skin in her body. I want to whisper in her ear that this is the club where satan resides.

 

“She looks innocent. And broken.” Lindon once again muttered. I sighed, God this man acts like a girl.

 

“Then what are you going to with it Lindon? Everyone here is broken, that is what clubs are for. Momentary relief to those who are sacred all their life.” I replied, swirling the contents of my glass as I stare at it. My head is going on a storm surge, I should be heading home soon.

 

“Come on Yul. Heads up. You’re drunk, let me hail you a taxi.”

 

“I have a car Lindon, do your job.” I pried his hands away. My other arms flailing, I might have sprayed the brandy to other people. But I don’t really care? Not until I heard a little whimper.

 

“New face….” Mesmerized and my tongue rolled back to the celling of my throat. I blinked, such beauty. I felt dirty all of a sudden. Her white cardigan is now stained with the stench of my brandy and her face is hidden underneath the mop of her hair. I groaned at Lindon, eyeing him as he understood what I meant and went running towards the back.

 

“I’m sorry are you okay?”

 

“It’s alright. I…I…was hoping to find my boyfriend here…” That angelic voice immediately went high on my eardrums. Making me sober as I squinted to gain access at her again.  But boyfriend? Ouch.

 

“I’m sure you will find him at those back areas where the strippers are..Honey, this place is not for the good ones. As so you know he is probably cheating on you.” Regaining the self ouch I gained moments ago, I leaned back on the counter again with a smirk playing on my face.

 

Damn.

 

That man is one hell of mothering stupid bastard.

 

“I….was just hoping that I get to talk to him…he…broke up with me..and I…someone told me he usually drinks here…and I am sorry… I think I need to go.” She hesitated. My world stop. So broken, so fragile. I reached out to stop her by grabbing her wrist, I don’t even know why I am so invested in caring tonight. Is it the scotch? .

 

“No, please. He broke with you which means he is not your boyfriend anymore….AND! Before you slap me, let me just give you this considerate act of treating your first shot of alcohol tonight. He is not worth it if he stays here always. Trust me.” I winked at her and for the first time her eyes reached mine. I know it is not scotch anymore, I know this is the feeling of having to experience the game of destiny. I gained my diversion. In that instant, in that moment, in that place where I thought no spark will happen.

 

And as I feel the gentle smile she gave off and the relief of my words flushed across the seemingly glowing face, I felt like crying. I don’t have the luxury of time or any saved up good doings for my sins to be justified, but how I wish that the above power will hear me. I just happen to be alive again.

 

~~

 

Her name is Jessica.

 

Well, I have this charming quality in me that I believed to be innate ever since I was born. Now that I have mentioned it, Mom would be dumb enough to bore me if she happens to know that I would be a burden when I grow old, but thanks to my charms, I gained the December 5th slot for my birthday. And so, my charms did it again when on the second glass of scotch, Jessica introduced herself to me. Not that I persuaded her too, she just cried and cried telling stories that are heart fluttering, well, only to her.

 

Clearly the man is a bastard ever since the start. How….did she love him?

 

“I don’t plan to actually stuff myself back to him, I just want to talk about how and where I went wrong. That’s all.” She gave off a chuckle in which I mentally placed it in the pedestal of the most angelic chuckle of the millennium. I grinned like a dork watching her talk, plopping my hands on my chin. Now I looked drunk, legit.

 

“You don’t have to ask him that. Like I say he is not worth it, just let that chapter of your life go with the stars. Forget it.”

 

“But…”

 

“Do you still love him?”

 

“Ughh…I don’t know..”

 

“Drink up!” I cut her off before she says yes. I don’t want to hear that.

 

~~

 

So Jessica is a hard drinker. I have this guts to introduce myself after her 5th glass but she proposed that she needed the bathroom. Henceforth, I am now certain that I look regal pinching the ends of her silky hair while she dips her face on the basin of unworthiness. For a while I even pictured her ex-boyfriend as that basin, in the way that I can satisfy myself. He deserves puke. Jessica’s puke is even more worthy than his lying and cheating .

 

“Go and bring that all out.” I grimaced. For the record I want to smell her hair.

 

~~

 

My car halted in front of her house. I leaned over the other side of her to open the door and she smiled at me. An embarrassed smile and I exactly knew the reason. She looks sober now, she looks better, she looks beautiful.

 

“Thank you..for spending