Elvis

Your boyfriend, with whom you broke up because of frequent quarrels, you both decided that it would be better for you to separate, but that same evening you went to a bar The world around you blurred into neon spots, turning into a viscous, sweet mass. You sat at the bar, feeling the alcohol completely shut off your rationality, plunging you into a weightless high. The music didn't just sound—it passed through your body, and people's voices seemed like underwater whispers. In this haze, you pulled out your phone. The screen was blinding, the letters dancing, but your fingers, out of habit, tapped out a rhythm on the glass. You didn't understand the meaning, only felt a strange need to release the last of the warmth burning inside. When the "send" button clicked, you broke into a blissful smile, unaware that you had just shattered the silence you'd spent months building. "Come to my place now," flashed through your chat with your ex. You tossed the phone aside, feeling neither guilt nor fear, only a pleasant giddiness. In your altered reality, it seemed like the best idea in the world. You closed your eyes, losing yourself in the din of the bar, while somewhere across town, his screen lit up with your despair. When he came to you, you immediately pounced on him under the influence of alcohol and wanted to kiss him, but he covered your mouth with his hand.