A glowy chainmail dress, ebony ponytail, overlined, round, matte, brownish lips. Golden hoops, contoured jawline and cheekbone, boldest, most glittery and heavily powdered smokey eye I've ever seen. Thick eye liner game, metal choker, shiny stilettos.
The girl in the mirror is definitely playing hard.
Nothing like the daily, more humble reflection, which wasn't any less pretty.
One foot in front of the other, I make a fierce entrance into the party. All I see are worry-less people, while all I keep thinking of, is how I have to avoid alcohol at all costs; Multitudinous were the faux pas stories I heard of drunk people on parties, and personally, being featured in a storytime session soon to become a rumor wasn't my prime wish.
I danced like I never did, forgetting about my uni entrance exams which were in a fortnite's time. I got drunk on iced tea and coffee, devoured loads of pizza and cake slices the old school way, and pretended to throw up to test my buddies' sobriety.
Seems like I was the drunk one, or maybe iced tea wasn't that innocent, because I invited Brian to dance. Aurora grinned, unveiling her messy teeth which I was starting to obsess over.
While her brother and I were swinging around, I had a brutal flash of clichés stumbling in my headspace one after the other. A bank. A heist. Enormous gold blocks being thrown like toys. The stock market becoming the rudest ever. Bankrupcy. Famine. POverty. Children suffering, crying and dying. Something we could fix, eventually. We could! We could! WE can light it up! Brian and Ora must've been craving this for so long... And I...
I want it soo bad. Finally some sense to that dull life!
The ideas started fighting one another inside my head and my blood started racing, speeding, sprinting through my veins, pouring, shooting my temples again. I never had pondered what electrity felt like beforehand. My consciousness was now razor thin, but I could hear Brian screaming my name and Aurora calling a hospital. I could also tell she was smiling, and this one had nothing to do with my special abilities. I knew she could figure out exactly what I was going through, just because. Maybe because she was my only friend, the only one with whom I could practice my twisted psychoanalysis skills.
I fainted. Maybe my overthinking was guilty, but what's for sure and certain, is that the last thing I actually heard, was Brian saying my name again.