My phone rang in my purse, the constant vibration was a reminder of the world I had left behind. Ignoring it, I kept on walking, the city light spreading into rays of color with each rough breath. My stomach grumbled, and I remembered I hadn't had anything to eat.
Suddenly, familiar music played out, a touching piece of the piano I had practiced countless times for my dance performance. It was coming from a small, dimly lit jazz bar at the side of the street. I found myself moving towards the music as it was the only familiar comfort in this chaos.
I pushed open the heavy wooden door and I was greeted by a wave of warm light and the smell of good coffee. The bar was bubbling with activities, couples moving their bodies to the music, groups of friends sharing laughter, and a bartender skillfully managing multiple orders.
The performer, a man with white hair and kind eyes, poured his soul into the piano. Each note he played echoed with a raw emotion that reflected my own. I took my seat at the bar as the old leather felt cold against my skin.
I took a deep breath and ordered a cup of coffee. The heat flowed into my chilled hand as I brought the mug closer. The music continued like a depressed but reassuring sound that felt like it was talking directly to my soul.
As the last note faded away, silence covered the bar then a woman with a voice as smooth as velvet began to sing. Her words painted a picture of heartbreak and finding strength in the outcome, a story that reflected mine.
Tears filled my eyes again, but this time they weren't tears of sadness but tears of freedom, of relief set off by the music and the shared experience.
As the song ended, a round of applause filled the bar, and the beautiful Latino woman with a smile filled with life caught my eyes and winked at me. My heart skipped at the hint of warmness.
The bartender, a well-built man with a gentle face, walked toward me and placed a plate of hot fries in front of me.
"It's on the house," he said bluntly, his look softening,
"Looks like you could use a pick-me-up," his lips curved into a smile.
I choked on my tears, my heart swelled with appreciation. I murmured a thank you as the warmness of the food and unexpected kindness healed my wounded soul.
As the night continued, the music changed speed. Cheerful jazz music filled the air, and people moved to the dance floor. I watched and was hypnotized as couples moved their body to the rhythm of the song, their movement filled with love and joy.
A sharp pain of loneliness hit me, a reminder of the life I had imagined with Marcus but then, a rebellious idea stirred up within me. Why should I let their betrayal steal my joy? I won't let their actions define me. I thought to myself.
Slowly, I got up, my legs shaking but my mind was made up. I walked towards the dance floor, the music humming in my veins.
At first, I reluctantly moved my body, proof of my pain but as the music took over me, something shifted. I had to let go of the anger, the hurt, the pain and allow myself to enjoy the beat.
My body moved with a fresh freedom, revealing the emotions I couldn't explain with words. It was a dance of anger, grief, and importantly, hope.
With the song coming to an end, I received a standing ovation but more importantly, I felt a sense of fulfillment, a tiny atom of the fire that had been dimmed but not put out.
Making my way out of the bar, the city light no longer seemed mocking. They were beams of hope, directing me toward an unknown but brighter future. With this fresh determination, I brought out my phone and dialed a number, not Marcus's but that of my best friend, Sarah.
The phony rang once, twice, before Sarah's warm and familiar voice filled my ear.
"Gem? Is everything okay?" she questioned, worry laced in her voice.
"No, everything is not, Sarah," I replied, my voice thick with emotions as tears threatened to spill.
"But it will be. Can you come pick me up?"
"On my way," Sarah answered without hesitation.
As the sound of Sarah's car coming grew louder, a smile, shaky but genuine filled my face. Tonight, I may have been broken, but tomorrow, I will start fixing myself back together, stronger and better than before.
Sarah stepped on the brake, the car came to a stop. The world seemed to stop for a second as the tire scratched the ground. The car door swung open before I could reach it, Sarah rushed out, her face filled with concern.
"Gemma, oh my God," she gasped, rushing towards me.
"What happened? Did someone hurt you?"
Tears welled up in my eyes again, threatening to spill. I fling my arm around her, burying my face in her shoulder. Suddenly, I felt okay again, like a warm blanket covering me after being left out in the cold. It was a big change from how I felt after finding out about Marcus's betrayal.
"It's Marcus," I murmured into Sarah's shirt, my voice covered up by tears.
"And Aurora."
Sarah froze, her jaw locked tightly. We both knew Aurora, my annoying step-sister who was always perfect.
"What did they do?"'she asked, her voice barely above a whisper but filled with anger.
Taking a shaky breath, I pulled back, cleaning my eyes with my hands.
"They… they were… I caught them in bed together." I finally said, stammering as the memories still hurt.
Sarah's brows wrinkled, her eyes bloodshot red as anger filled her body.
"That cheating scumbag," she shouted, furious.
"I always knew he had a thing for Aurora even when he was with you! I knew it," she said, trying to make me feel better.
A small smile formed on my lips. It felt so good to have someone who understands how you feel.
"Yeah, well not for long. I walked out on both of them." I replied.
Sarah punched the air with her fist, her eyes on fire,
"That's right, girlfriend. You are too good for that lying cheat. We will show them." she told me
We stood there for a while, both fuming but then Sarah smile turned playful,
"Let's get you out of here. Let's take you home. Grandma must be worried sick about you." she said, as she opened the passenger seat for me.