I had no clue just what had led me to agree to this, but I had and so there I was all dolled up with my curls bunned up and my face did prettily in makeup, I even coated my lips in a soft shade of a sheer rouge just to bring out the rest of my soft and simple makeup. I guess my dress was enough for these kinds of places and the high ceiling and dim lighting sort of begged for a more 'extravagant piece of clothing and so my black silk dress made up for it with its slit. It was dark enough inside for me not to worry about my thigh.
I was sure that, perhaps, I may have gone overboard and I was glad that the rest of the girls with me were the sort to not underdress otherwise I would have stood out quite desperately. I however was the only non-Asian on the table and I and my silky bun sure did try to fit in, not that I would or even believed I blended in far too comfortably. My hips made sure to welcome the dress quite fully and my eager chest glimmered appealingly, no thanks to the lotion I had applied, and a certain amount of it peaked out to my dismay but it wasn't my choice. It was heavy and full enough, it called for attention and this was a bar, so I doubted I was the only one with a cleavage, no matter how fancy it was.
My dear friend Miranda and her soft and bouncy waves had joined me in showcasing her own 'full' chest and with comfort too, I figured it was no big deal for me to do the same. Putting my hair up in a bun brought out my features, soft high cheekbones, cleft chin, and everything. The shiny marble table we sat around was decorated with cocktails immediately, the conversation had fallen comfortably, but not between the entire table, and I understood since I was the face they weren't used to. My cocktail was almost in half as I had to hop into the conversation every once in a while and I was ready to order another perhaps it was just my head having being swirling with all these questions and wondering about my boss. I barely cared that I was hardly included in the conversation, excerpt when Miranda herself dragged me into it, ever so often, and I had to stay away from my cocktail and do my best to not humiliate her or myself.
One of the ladies, Cora, lifted her hand and called a waiter to us and the rest of the ladies, including her, went for another round of cocktails. Cora's alcohol intake was probably better than mine and easily, with the way her face lit up at the sight of the waiter, perhaps she was even far better at keeping it together–I counted my glasses. I couldn't take martinis and hence why my boring self had opted for a cosmo just to fit in with the rest of the girls when what I really would opt for is a negroni and maybe a shot of tequila to get my thoughts to settle. The issue was that one of those would lead to many, so I chose to be a lady and just accepted my second glass of cosmo quite nicely, I wouldn't allow myself to go for another.
". . .my cousin Rachel got married there, it was beautiful," one of the ladies said, her already long mouth stretching as she practically grinned at the soon-to-be bride quite a bit, "and I know this great designer, she's. . .good."
"Church weddings are in though," the one with a near and stylish bob said, nodding as she pushed her glass a bit to the center of the table.
The more petite and browner one stepped piped in while I struggled to put a name to her petite and round face with sharp eyes. "Did you see Nick Jonas and Priyanka Chopra's wedding?"
"It was to die for!" another one gushed, sitting right beside me.
I guess I wasn't included in this one and I hadn't seen this wedding they were all in such awe of, I, in all brutal honesty, hated weddings and was never going to marry again. I had done the whole fairytale and walked down the aisle and ended up a cold woman whose husband cheated on her out of hurt and had failed at giving him a healthy baby, which made me want to get trashed and quickly. Maybe I would get alcohol poison and somehow end up forgetting everything, even my name.
". . .of course, you'd say that!" Cora exclaimed, laughing over another martini.
I only offered a smile and probably frowned at my cosmo and wished I had not shown up here. It wasn't that it was not fun, it was that I couldn't help but put up a hard shell and perhaps, Miranda was good at seeing past it and made it fun to just laugh and forget about my lonely life, but still, I was comfortable with shielding myself. We even called each other more frequently and surprisingly, she made me hurry to the phone and that was something I rarely did.
I barely looked forward to anything mostly, but lately with my job and this, perhaps, a budding friendship with Miranda I sort of found myself not wishing to just curl up in a ball and pretend the whole world didn't exist or that I didn't have any responsibilities. It was sort of nice, but it also got me waiting for the other shoe to drop and for me to realize life could never be that good for me. It was probably unhealthy, perhaps even unfair as I tended to get difficult, and maybe even cold, because of how typically cynical I tended to be nowadays. I was always skeptical and perhaps, that was a jump away from my faith but as soon as I got married and realized it was far from easy I just found myself. . .drowning endlessly.
I tried pulling myself up, but all I did was get distant and cold without being able to help it. To my family, it was just the baby that tore me but that was just not the truth–I had been miserable even before then. I downed my cosmo fast and placed the glass down, sighing, as my eyes darted between the ladies around me, unsure just who said what at some point as I nodded here and there, doing my best to at least seem interested. The lighting within the bar and our sitting made it easier for me to simply blend in, or perhaps I was just easier to ignore, I couldn't tell and I wasn't interested in finding out. Suddenly, though, I had the urge to join them with those martinis and maybe more, perhaps a shot would do in melting down my thoughts and I would float away from the gloomy state that my head wanted to shove me into and if I let it I would become like I usually was and would eventually just leave. It sometimes came easier to me more than staying, perhaps I was too used to that apartment and my life is so sad, maybe that felt more comfortable than dressing up to go out for a couple of cocktails and go on about celebrity weddings.
"Anyway, have you even chose a dress?" Cora turned to the bride-to-be, stirring the little liquid left in her glass. Her lips were slightly more swollen than they had been before she had walked in and she leaned quite happily, forgetting her ladylike ways. Her silky hair fell in free and silky waves around her petite face, which was dimpled and round-cheeked. Her skin had a slightly more sandy tone than Miranda's, so she's at underneath the sultry lighting glowing prettily as if she had been touched by a tinge of gold and her skin looked so soft and radiant that she had me reaching for my face without being too noticeable.
"Isn't that like the first thing a woman goes for?" the lady with the bob asked, neat eyebrows knitted together slightly. "You do have a dress already, right?"
Miranda let out a sigh and then pressed her lips together briefly, just as two soft dimples graced her face before she parted them to say something that I was to at least catch this time. "Isn't this meant to be fun? You're stressing me out, Dianne."
My eyebrow involuntarily arched as I noted her name and tossed my eyes between the two women unsure if she was really just warning her to drop this or if she had just had one too many and was taking this all to heart.
"It is, you're getting married. . .and we're not," Dianne said, offering her a smile.
It was quite sad, perhaps because I had alcohol coursing through my bloodstream quite a bit and maybe, just maybe, it was because I admired their friendship that I could tell they were afraid they were going to lose when she got married. I got that, relationships required a lot of things, and honestly, being grown-up meant we all wanted someone to be with, especially us women, and someone to hold–a forever. I had wanted it too and as I smiled at their little moment I hoped that Miranda herself was well aware of what she was getting into, to be completely honest, I was happy for her, and yet I was doing my utmost best to keep my smile in place. I didn't want to go there, to feel so moppy and sad all the time with nothing to uplift my spirits and with regret clawing away at my heart.
"You guys are worried things will change?" Miranda offered them a pleasingly soft and pretty smile. "You shouldn't, we'll always go out and get trashed."
Cora laughed first. "We aren't there yet."
I had a feeling we were going to get there soon enough and perhaps, I needed it.
I needed to just float or perhaps drown my thoughts, maybe that was the antidote–liquor. I hated feeling so but it was better to just pretend I too wanted to enjoy the night because then it didn't make me feel awful or guilty and guilt was the last thing I needed.
I just wanted to ignore my thoughts easily.