The Magick Shop Place

Chapter 4: Cynthia the partier

Cynthia

“Uggh...” Cynthia sat up and looked around, head spinning so much she laid back down. “Too fast...God my head kills.” She could feel her pulse in her forehead, and gently pressed her palm to her right eye, as if to absorb some of the pain. She slowing turned to her left, her natural wavy curls draped over and rested on her shoulders.

Yet another party that lasted till 2am at the bar, extended to a house party till 4am. Memories began to resurface, which caused physical pain to her hangover.

“I f*****g love you Sin!” Destiny rejoiced, face flushed from the drinks, as she held a blue AMF (adios mother fucker) in one hand, and a cigarette hanging in her other. “You’ve been here for 20 mintutes tops.” Sin thought to herself. Everyone called her “Sin” short for Cynthia. She earned her title by being quite the “risk taker.” And Destiny was considered another acquaintance to Sin among the large group that partied together. Sin doesn’t really consider any of them close friends, more like a gathering of young adults who got drunk and high together all the time.

Destiny, not even 10 minutes ago, was making out with Willow in the parking lot, groping each other in bad taste. All the while Amanda was screaming and raising her fist at Roach, her toxic weed dealer boyfriend. They were an on and off again couple ever since they were in high school. “Roach is a roach.” Is a common phrase to describe him in this crowd. He is tall but painfully skinny and is already balding in his twenties. He has crooked yellow teeth with chin strap facial hair. Sometimes he tries to freestyle rap with the guys, but he always sounded terribly amateur. Roach is a clown that has been “grandfathered” into the group because they all knew each other since middle school. Everybody puts up with him, no matter how stupid drunk he gets or loud he becomes. And it’s not like the other guys were much better when it came to blackouts. Amanda, on the other hand, is beautiful as well as tough. She has medium length, thick and wavy brown hair with striking hazel brown eyes. Amanda is outspoken, charismatic and has a huge attitude. She was the kind of girl where you either loved her or hated her. And so it happens, Sin has the same kind of personality with a similar reputation. Even still, none of them were particularly close to Sin to in her mind. Not even Amanda who she has a lot in common with.

“Aye, whuchu want to drink beautiful?” Dante had spotted and asked Sin as he was walking through the crowd.

This is Dante, relatively harmless, but then needless to say he sleeps with every girl he meets. His pockets were flush from donating plasm that afternoon, cash in hand, ignoring the warnings about drinking alcohol after donating.

But the night was young, the neon lights of the local bar were burning bright, and Sin only had one cocktail so far. “Thanks bro, I’ll take a well whiskey shot with a coke back.”

Sin smiled and gave Dante a hard pat on the back then walked with him to the bar area.

This is a dude to keep at arm’s length, he sweet talks all the simple bitches. Destiny and Willow are perfect examples. Almost everyone here has done each other or is dating one another. I’m not innocent in that regard, although I do have my limits. I dated one of the guys for a while, they called him “Gamer” or “Game” because of his graffiti tag-name. Most of the guys here do graffiti, some were pretty talented in their black book’s aka sketch books. But going downtown, under fenced off bridges or sides of big buildings were becoming more and more risky. The trainyards were especially dangerous. There were gangs to worry about too, drug addicts and homeless people who were unstable lurked the trainyards. In one direction or the other you are bound to get stabbed. So, then security officers increase in numbers, no sense going to jail for vandalism either. But I will admit, climbing fences and painting your alias on a surface you can see from the highway is a huge adrenaline rush.

Sin and Lily were intrigued for a while, played along, did their fair share of slapping stickers on bus stop benches and backs of stop signs. Lily’s proudest accomplishment was when she climbed all the way to the top of a telephone pole, slapped a sticker on a little electric box and it stayed there for years. Even though the writing had faded, every time we drove by it, she pointed it out, it was the highest she’d ever climbed in the name of graffiti. But that phase of their interests had faded, they really did not want to get arrested. And now this crew was getting increasingly annoying to Cynthia. There were always new chicks that would show up, but only for a short while, just enough to entertain whichever guy that brought her to the party.

“Jesus Christ, what time is it? My head is killing me.” Cynthia checks her phone. “God damn I am late.” Every footstep towards the kitchen felt heavy, it was as if weights were tied to her ankles. She stretched and extended an arm to the cabinet door, “Waaatterrr.” She brought her glass to the sink. Her thirst increased as she watched the stream fill her cup. She stole a swing of water as it was pouring, then continued to fill the glass. She let out a satisfied “Gasp.” After downing the glass. And right after her gasp, she felt the churning in her stomach. “Should have eaten food at the bar.”

After the first drink from Dante, she sat and talked with the bartender for over an hour. But who’s counting the minutes at the best seat in the house? Lord knows she was not counting the shots. “Okay Brucey!” With slurred speech she batted her long lashes. Her eyes were bloodshot but the hazel in her eyes remained striking. She said with a charming smile.” One more shot...and then...no more...” She blinked hard twice. “I think.” And let out a laugh. The roar of their group was now booming while the juke box played their favorite songs. We were a large hip-hop and underground rap crowd. However, there was still a variety on the playlist, including Jimi Hendrix, Alice in chains, System of a down and dubstep music.

After the bar shut down at 2am, there’s always one person ready to extend the invite to an after party. Normally when everyone would stupidly drive drunk to said house to smoke weed and get laid. Tonight was apparently Gamers turn, feeling sloshed at this point and ushered his friends to his place. Besides, it’s always better to be s**t faced as a group.

Apparently, Cynthia was the first one to rise in the house. A couple were sleeping on the floor and Dante passed out on the couch. She hadn’t even noticed yet that Gamer had also passed out, only in the same bed she just rose from. But at that point all she could do was sit in front of the toilet, puking the water she had just drunk, along with all the other drinks that sat in her stomach overnight. “This is not great.” She thought to herself, “I need some toast.”