Paul

The room was dim, like are the most typical party settings. You walk in to meet people, yet end up scanning the room for a familiar face amongst all the haze and the lip locking. It wasn’t the typical party you would see in the movies. Yet, with an artistic eye and a way with words you can accomplish something more than a movie.

It was raining that day. From morning to night, soft tears fell from beyond the gray sky. The party’s atmosphere reflected the weather in a frivolous fever that drifted in and out of the rooms, into the halls and embedded itself into one’s soul. I walked into the room unnoticed and uninvited. The musty smell of wet clothing and alcohol lingered just above the heads of the party goers. It was a party for the finest mediocre actors and I was neither mediocre nor an actor. In fact, I could have been the simplest of things, like a whisper in the wind; there only to talk to one voice, to haunt one soul.

He entered from the left, just out of earshot. A small group had gathered around him like moths drawn to light. I hadn’t seen him in years, yet I knew instantly I had found my intended target. He had a soft defined strut. His ego lingered about unaware to himself and appropriately accepted by the others. He was quite popular with the crowd, yet I knew he knew none of them were truly his friends. He was smart and talented and had a certain charm, which captivated the room. He was the embodiment of the perfect man, yet he was bruised. I circled the room like a lion ready to pounce upon its prey, yet instead of attacking I waited and I watched. Let him flirt, have a few drinks then conjure up some weak excuse to separate himself for awhile. That is when I would catch him off guard and truthful in his intoxication.

I waited for about an hour. He gulped down drink after drink and senselessly flirted with five girls, making out with two of them in the span of sixty minutes. I watched and smirked and ultimately cursed myself for being such a horrible person. But I had reason; I loved him.

He excused himself from the girls he was currently talking too and walked steadily to his friend, The Host. They faced each other, exchanged a few words, and he exited the house just as I expected he would. My cue had finally arrived.

I floated effortlessly through the bodies and the noise, out the front door onto the porch. It was still raining outside and the sky was an even darker shade of gray. I let the door close shut behind me and the sound of the party was muffled.

“How long have you been here?” his voice came with a false sense of concern. I turned at the sound of it to see him sitting on the swing under the sheltered gazebo. He was just as I remembered; cool, calm, and with an air of mystery. He just had that aura about him; that feeling that you had to talk to him, that you had to know him. I slowly made my way closer, briefly in the rain, and then took shelter on the opposite swing. A cloud moved slightly overhead and the moon, like a huge white orb, shown its light on the ground below. For that moment, I was able to make out his face; the fine outline of his features and shadows of his dark complexion.

“Why are you here?” he asked again another question, this time with a bit more curiosity.

I looked at him and studied his face; his eyes, his nose, his mouth. I watched the dark shadows fade away as the moon hid behind another gray cloud. “Why are any of us here?” I asked him with a soft smile.

“I know why I’m here, but why are you? I don’t remember you being invited.” he asked, leaning forward in the swing and coming to a stop.

“I didn’t need an invite. No one here knows me anyway, let alone believe that I exist. I think I’m here just to watch you frolic and get drunk.” I said calmly, looking up at the blurry sky again, hoping I could see a star.

As if taking what I said as sarcasm, he threw his head back and laughed. I looked at him with a dubious eye, yet I knew fully well that he always thought I was joking when I was, in fact, being completely serious.

“You laugh now,” I started, “but I really am worried about you.”

“Is that why you came here? You’re worried about me?” he asked, straightening up.

I looked around. We were alone outside, the only two people not enjoying the party inside. I listened to the rain hit the hard wood of the gazebo. I looked back at him and saw the glistening white of his eyes. “Well, not exactly worried. It’s more, ‘let’s see what Paul is going to do next to screw with someone’s mind.’” I told him, and then turned my attention to the front door where the Host had stuck his head out.

“Paul! Hey Paul, what are you doing out here?” the Host asked.

“I’m busy.”

“Doing what?” the Host yelled.

“I’m talking to an old friend.” Paul said looking in my direction.

“An old friend?” Paul asked, confused. “Who’s that? The swing cushion?”

I gave a wave of my hand to make myself known.

“Oh.” The Host said.

Paul turned to look at me. I looked at him and smiled my sly smile, which gave me a bit of satisfaction sitting out here in the rain. He turned back to his friend who simply nodded and was dragged back inside the house by a couple of guest.

“Who are you to judge me anyway?” Paul asked. “Why would you even do that?”

“I’m not sure. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

We sat in silence for a time. The rain had grown heavy and the wind became fierce. The clouds seem to have become thicker and grayer and I became sadden that I wouldn’t be able to see any stars that night. It wasn’t an awkward silence, even though it seemed like ages since either one of us said anything. It was silence, but it was nice. The rain made such soft music.

“It’s amazing how one can find out so much about another person in one night.” I said breaking the silence.

“Oh really?” he asked, his tone of voice becoming its usual pompous tenor. “What have you learned about me?”

“I don’t really believe you want to know.”

“Well,” he started, “you obviously don’t know me that well then.”

“I’ve found out that you are an arrogant pig.” I started completely ignoring what he previously said. “You use people to suit your own personal needs. You’re weak and you feel like you need to make others around you weak in order for you to feel superior; like the better person.”

“Oh really?” he asked. “Is that who I am? Are you sure?”

“Yes, you are an ass and you know it.”

“I’m the ass?” Paul asked with a smirk spread across his face. “I’m not the one spying on someone just to watch them ruin other people’s lives. And if you really think about it, you just described yourself.”

“So you’re saying that I’m the evil one here?”

“No, I didn’t say that.” Paul said. “I just said you’re a selfish hypocrite; I just used different words.”

“How am I a selfish hypocrite?” I asked him fully regretting I ever brought anything up.

“You described yourself when you described me. And now you’re denying it. That reads hypocrite to me.” Paul said leaning back in the swing, his arms crossed.

“You know what? I can’t talk to you right now.” I said getting up from the swing.

“Oh, did I say something wrong?” he asked, playing out the innocent act.

“You’ve said a lot of wrong things Paul. Yet, you’re too proud of yourself to realize them.” I turned around, yet before I walked away into the rain, I dug into my pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. I looked at the folded note for awhile before handing it to Paul and walking away.

The rain was falling hard on my back. The clouds had fully managed to cover the sky and not one star was able to shine through. I looked up at the dark sky raising my arms and let out a scream. He was frustrating and made everything so complicated! He was stuck within himself, not telling anyone what he really felt, when all I needed to know from him was exactly how he felt, what he felt and whether or not any of it was true.