As the sun set below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and crimson, the once-quiet neighborhood came alive with the sounds of laughter and music. Cars lined the streets, and throngs of bodies dotted the streets as people walked to the Benson home, where the party was already going.
The air inside was thick with the aroma of overpriced cocktails and an undercurrent of excitement. The large living room had been turned into a temporary dance floor, where bodies moved in sync with the Afrobeat beat playing in the background. In the kitchen, a group of friends huddled around the counter, exchanging gossip and sipping on their drinks.
Emily Benson, the host of the evening’s feast, was at the center of it all. Her coppery hair tumbled in riotous waves, and her emerald eyes shone bright with excitement. From the finely crafted playlist to the creatively presented decorations, she had planned every detail of the party.
But with the passing hours, a sign of discomfort festered in Emily's head. She recognized familiar faces from her social circle as she scanned the crowd, but something was off. Were these people truly her friends, or were they merely here for the party as they usually come yearly?
Then she caught sight of her best friend, Samantha, who was in the middle of a serious argument with a group of strangers. Samantha never backed down from a worthy debate, and Emily wondered if Samantha was debating for the sake of knowledge or if she was just being her usual asshole.
"You can't tell me that. There are aliens in our world; the government is just good at hiding the truth and information. I can't believe how naive you are. Haven't you watched the show on YouTube about "Fash the Alien"?
It was at that point Emily stopped listening because she knew how annoying her friend could be when she was arguing.
Over at the corner, a group of old classmates had congregated, their tittering edged with bittersweet reminiscence. Emily recalled when their friendships had felt unbreakable, when they had been held together by shared experiences and inside jokes. Either they had drifted as friends, or this was fake from the beginning. "Was this the doing of life?" she wondered to herself.
The late hour was drawing near, and Emily was on the balcony of the second floor wondering if she should dance with anyone, but she wasn't sure because she reeked of alcohol. As she was lost in her thoughts, James walked towards her without her realizing how close he was.
"God damn it. I hate this party," Emily murmured to herself.
"I wouldn't say I hate the party when I have been avoiding friends all day," James replied. Emily's heart almost jumped out of her mouth because she didn't realize how close James was to having heard her murmuring.
"Hi James," she said awkwardly.
"You know, I have been trying to get your attention all evening, but you seem to have drifted away in your own world. Is anything the issue?" James asked, but Emily wasn't sure of the answer to give. "Was it really me with the issue?" she thought as she pondered the question James asked.
"Do you think something is wrong with me, James?" Before Jame could answer, she continued to speak.
"I have been having this unusual feeling. I don't know if it's the party or the people that came for the party. I feel far away from them, and everyone seems to be talking to one another, knowing what they want to say, but I don't. I don't even know how to start a conversation," she said.
"We are all like that, especially when it has been a while since we saw each other. Look at us now, having a meaningful conversation. I did not know what to say to you when I approached you, but here we are talking. James answered.
That's when she understood that parties are a distorted mirror of relationships, and in that realization, Emily made a promise to herself. "I will enjoy this party."
Emily and James stood on the balcony staring at the stars; James was trying his best not to look at her and make the moment awkward. "Emily!" "James!" They both called out each other's name at the same time. "Ladies first," James said with a smile on his face. "Would you like to dance with me?" Emily asked.
"I would gladly accept," James said as he took her hands and led her to the dance floor. They both dance the night away without minding what's going on in the world around them.
For Emily, the party had become more than just a night of fleeting pleasures; it was a catalyst for self-reflection and a reminder that true friendship is a precious commodity in a world where people are struggling to be there for themselves.
Thanks for reading
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