Confessions Under Neon Light
899 Words
The music was too loud and the lights, too bright. The bass was loud enough to feel in Isla's ribs. Lights flashed in violent shades of blue and red, sliding over bodies that moved like they didn’t have responsibilities waiting for them tomorrow morning. The air smelt like perfume, sweat, and expensive liquor.
"Another one!” she laughed, raising her glass before Tahlia could stop her.
“Absolutely not,” Tahlia said, grabbing it mid-air. “You’re already talking nonsense.”
“I am not,” Isla protested, swaying slightly. “I’m just... expressive.”
Her friends exchanged looks.
“Okay, I’m officially relaxed,” she declared, though her words slurred slightly at the edges.
“You’re tipsy,” Tahlia corrected, watching her carefully.
Isla waved her off. “Same thing.”
The music was good, the night felt reckless, and something about the stranger from the mall had been lingering in her mind all day like an unfinished sentence.
She took another step toward the dance floor and nearly collided with someone.
Strong hands caught her before she fell. That’s when she turned, and looked at him.
"Thank you." She said before steadying herself. “You’re... tall.” she said, squinting her eyes like she's trying to focus a camera lens.
“You have... very stable shoulders.” she tapped his shoulders as if measuring it while, he looked at her, confused.
"You look responsible,” she decided and nodded her head.
"I recently got a job. So we came to celebrate." she said. "Over there," she pointed at Tahlia. "That's sweet younger sister," she said, staggering to stand firm.
"Wanna hear my secret?" She asked, leaning slightly closer and lowering her voice dramatically,
"I have these weird fantasies about a guy I met at the mall three days ago. Don't judge me"
He looked sternly at her.
"Total accident though. We crashed into each other, groceries everywhere. Very cinematic. Very polite. Very... tall.”
His eyebrows lifted just slightly, almost impossible to notice.
She gestured vaguely upward.
“And I don’t even know his name,” she continued. “But I’ve been thinking about him all day.”
He looked at her with total amusement all over his face and she gasped dramatically.
"It is serious. He just helped me and left like some mysterious main character.”
He looked down briefly hiding his laughter.
Her friends were still dancing behind her, distracted.
“Like what if he’s mysterious?" she continued, "Or secretly romantic? Or an ally? .. And I've had crazy fantasies about him.” She leaned closer again, completely uninhibited.
"Maybe," she said slowly. "In this version, he doesn't pretend he didn't notice me staring. Like, he steps closer. Not too close,” she clarified quickly. “Just enough. And he says something dramatic like, ‘I've been thinking about you since the mall. And I will say 'same here, because, yes! I have." She admitted, smiling at the guy.
“This is so embarrassing. You’re a stranger. Why am I telling you this?” she paused,
"There is another version though"
His eyes widened, holding her firmly to prevent her from falling.
"Okay, so maybe,” she whispered loudly, "He kisses me.”
He looked at her, though he hadn't said a word, but his eyes told a different story.
She gasped. “Yes! The soft version!”
She pointed at him like he’d unlocked something with just a stare.
“We run into each other again, and he remembers me. We get coffee and he walks me home. It’s slow, and sweet. He looks at me like I’m...important.”
Her voice softened. "Like, I matter."
There was a brief silence, then she swayed.
“Okay,” he said quickly, steadying her again. “I think Mall Guy would want you hydrated.”
“Mall Guy,” she repeated dreamily. "You have nice hands.”
He looked at her, confused.
“I notice hands.” she explained seriously. “Mall Guy had nice hands too, though I wasn't opportune to feel them." She added sadly. “Hands tell you things"
For a split second, something darker flickered in his expression.
“And what do mine say?” he asked.
She lightly touched his wrist to steady herself again.
“Yours tell, protective.” she murmured.
He went very still. A loud cheer erupted from the dance floor, breaking the moment and Tahlia appeared suddenly at Isla’s side.
“Okay! That’s enough,” she declared. “You are done for the night.”
“I’m not done,” Isla protested weakly. "I was just making a new friend."
"With whom?” Tahlia demanded.
Isla pointed at him dramatically.
“This very stable-shouldered man.”
Tahlia narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
“She needs water and a bed,” she told him firmly. And he nodded coldly.
They began dragging Isla toward the exit, she twisted around, looking at him again.
“If you ever see Mall Guy,” she called out, “tell him I said he has nice hands!”
He nodded slowly, watching them maneuver her through the crowd.
The music swallowed the space she’d left. He stood there for a moment longer, then he exhaled a slow, measured breath then glanced down at his hands, and smirked coldly, shook himself,
"Protective? About what exactly? My life or my family?" He thought and left
- Writer
