tuesday nights are the most fun a girl can have

Tuesday, 19 May

A mixture of places. Familiar places. New places. Shop. Cosy College Apartment. Pub after Pub.

Day five of working in a row. Barely managed to drag myself out of bed on time. Two nights ago, had a dream where [Redacted] tried to convince me to get drunk because it was a “school night”. Located in a Church pews but the reek of sweat and alcohol was prominent in the dream. Dream [Redacted] was clearly drunk, showing me messages from all our friends, repeating the fact it was a “school night”. You’re able to skip school. Nearly convinced myself not to wake up due to how convincing dream [Redacted] was. Woke later than expected after releasing it was all a dream. Blamed Real Life [Redacted] in a taxi the morning after.

Work is fine. Always fine. Regular asked me what pills I’m taking, because I suppose my customer service personal is always upbeat. Nearly answered truthfully with my medication but decided to just laugh and act clueless. Best thing to do when dealing with the general public. Laugh and act clueless. Found myself missing [Redacted], who oddly enough works with me. Yes, lives with me and works with me. If this life of ours was a sitcom, I believe [Redacted] and I would be a massive ship on AO3 and fandom Twitter, now regarded as “X” spaces. Regardless. Big bosses came in. Overtired and stressful. Accidentally was short with [Redacted 2] when he came into the shop to visit. Despite the fact that knowing I would be seeing him later was about the only thing keeping me sane. Had to explain myself later. Downside to my customer service personal, is that it falls around [Redacted] and [Redacted 2].

Retreated home in the rain. Wondered if it’s really May. Thought a lot about [Redacted 2] and I on the walk home. How we both tell everyone we met at the shop, which is technically true but not entirely so. Convinced myself it isn’t out of embarrassment of the truth. We’re both writers. All writers are inherently romantic to a certain degree. Meeting at the shop is romantic. And liars. Most writers are liars.

Allowed myself one hour to rest before getting ready. [Redacted] joined me after getting ready at [Redacted 3’s] and wow. [Redacted 3] followed down later and once again, wow. I love fancy events because my friends get all dressed up and I am reminded how there are not enough synonyms in the English language for beautiful or breathtaking. Blinking as I apply my blue eye makeup, saw a blink of [Redacted] and [Redacted 3] in our old school uniforms, hair completely different and the old way they used to carry themselves. Blinked again before I could get all nostalgic.

[Redacted 2] came over. Heard [Redacted 4’s] door open before we even got inside. She hadn’t met [Redacted 2] and it was cute how quickly she ran to my room when she hears our voices. Finishing touches to my makeup. He read some of my old poetry about an ex lover. Somehow complimented my work, immediately understood and validated what it was a bit. Picked pieces out and asked further details. Wanted to put him in my pocket, to ensure he never has to feel the hurt that caused me to write such poems.

Scrolled through the empty city streets. Both of us taking too much time talking. Went to a gig in a pub neither of us had been too. One of the band members is a friend of [Redacted 2]. Wrote an article for the, then upcoming, gig on the local music magazine I write for.

The gig itself was incredible. Changed into the band tee in a cramped bathroom stall with flashy lights. Ripped the strap off my shoe because it was annoying me too much. Any expectations I had for the gig was well surpassed. The lead vocalist had this killer range and overwhelming stage presence. [Redacted 2] and I were apart of the front row. Danced with the lead vocalist l, shouted back cheers on cue as the vocalist and bassist entered the crowd, circling forming around them. [Redacted 2] had warned me before about how insane the drummer was and yet I still found myself speechless. Everyone sang happy birthday to the lead guitarist. Found myself thinking somewhere in between the flashing colourful lights, wowowow. I am 21 watching the band I write a music article for on the music magazine I wrote for perform their gig. These are the moments of a life I never even dared to dream of. Got pulled out of my thoughts as I heard my own voice shouting back the lyrics to ‘Zombie’ by the Cranberries into [Redacted 2’s] face.

The lead vocalist announced they’d be filming a music video for one of the songs they had played already. We got to be apart of it. It ended up being my favourite song of theirs. Everyone reaching up and crowding the lead vocalist as she stood on a chair overlooking the crowd.

Got to talk to different members after the gig. The bassist, [Redacted 2’s] friend, told the vocalist I was the one who wrote the article and felt the heat of embarrassment spreading across my cheeks. [Redacted 2] keeps insisting I was the vocalist’s favourite in the crowd after our little solo dance. I think he is unbelievably biased.

Left the pub to go to a different pub, where [Redacted 3], [ Redacted 5] and [Redacted] would be.  All of us crawling through the doorway of the oh so familiar pub. Counting down the days until I can overindulge with the three of them without worrying about work. Eleven days. To be exact. Still feels too far away.

It was first time [Redacted 3] met [Redacted 2]. Swallowed my tongue and bit my breath, hoping she would like him. It went way better than I could have ever hoped.

Left early because work. Work is always. Always fine. Always early starts so I can’t overdo it and overindulge.

Tuesday nights are the most fun a girl can have.