I Got Drunk Last Night And Everything Feels Fake After.
They were all playing a card. The lost ones needed to look for the drinks they required to shoot. The loser takes them all, water or alcohol? No one knew where it was. Again and again, they just become sobers because they are just under the lousy fragrance of mixed gins. He can't control himself just that happiness was provided with the clear water glass. He was confused. Why do some say they drink water, yet their taste has never been a hydro, always bitter, and some are stronger. Then comes where everything becomes fake.
The loud sound of the music is coming into his head, but the far he went its becoming silent and went closer to the soccer field.
He doesn't know if the rain pouring on him is still fake or why he wasn't cold then? The alcohol in his body might shelter the coldness and oddness from the rain. He was drugged; everything was so light. The heart feeling he felt was like feathers floating inside. There becoming a beat of the music in his mind as more he poised, he could just lay dance and perform everything in the kind of forgiving feelings.
He was laughing alone, but never did he feel that inside. He was happy, a simple explanation of what he felt right now.
But in the writer's point of view, that's all a fake card from his mind. He was cold as the raindrops and became heavier, but he never admitted he was. He was talking with everyone, but it's all fake, for the real thing is that no one was around with him, just the scattered chairs he's talking about and everyone. As the more time, the pills activate. The world becoming upside down. The ground is spinning, yet that makes him happier than ever. He was in the manifestation of love, with no hurt and heartbreaks.
Everything was fake, yet all was fine. The man was laughing, enjoying the moment where he needed support to walk along. The net of the soccer field has like a web of giant spiders. He tried to climb up, but he couldn't move his feet in action. One wrong made his legs trapped in the hole of the white soccer net. Yet he was still happy; he never blamed the net or his feet for wild things that happened.
He opened his eyes, and he smelled something on the ground. "It's fake" he was laughing hard as now he felt like even the grass of the soccer podium they had in their school was inaccurate. The dirt in his hand seems promising. What if he takes it still? What was the taste?. After not so long, he did, then he came back to the high laughing.
"Hello?" The other people in the line. He just smiled and laughed, explaining this to the other side of the phone. "Yeah, its me, guess what?. Everything here is fake. I just found out that the grass on the soccer field was not a real one; even the taste of the mud feels different." The other one, another phone, was so confused about what he meant by that. "But you know what?" the one in the other line becomes annoyed with what he is talking about. He doesn't know how he called him, for he was already blocked from the phone. "I really like you; I'm sorry for what I did. That's not fake" the voice of the man becomes more silent as if he might pass out. "My feeling within you wasn't fake; it's real." Then the phone shuts down.
It was the middle of the night; the other was still confused. What was that? Is he really meant that? But why now?. He can not and never figures out why. The rain suddenly stopped; looking at the window, the teardrops were really none. Feels like some strange one had talked; go and find him. He said it was on the soccer field. That was inside the school, a one-hour journey using only the bicycle. But never mind the bump unto that fast and pedal could.
The lights from a vast spotlight directing at the soccer field under the net of the goal point. The man passed out. The other one ran toward him and "woke up" with some physical touch on the face of the man. The man opened his eyes silently; he was still laughing. Now he was convinced that everything was fake. He saw the face of someone with worried features. "You were fake, aren't you?" he touched the beginning, still like everything but never convinced was.
He passed out.
Hi. I admit that I was drunk last night writing this one, and now suffering from head torture from the hangover, lol. I was just challenging myself last night if I could still write even the influence of gin inside my body, and I did. Just that I can not proofread the same moment, haha. Thanks for reading.
What do you think happened in the story? Sorry but there was no second part of the story unless I become drunk again. LOL.