"I try to live in black and white, but I'm so blue
I'd like to mean it when I say I'm over you.”
….

I can't tell how long long I'd been stumbling around for but I know that it's very late in the evening when I find myself at the bottom of the building that Star and I used to enjoy climbing.

Even in my drunken state, I scale the perron staircase in a few seconds and find myself at the top. The really strong wind blowing around is not outlandish to me so I'm unfazed as I stand there, staring out at the city through a haze.

The once bright, twinkling lights that stole my breath away are now a blurry mix of colours. The world resumes spinning around me and I drop to the ground carefully, shifting towards some large boxes and leaning against them.

I feel my stomach clench and I hold back a gag. I know it's useless because sooner or later, the contents of my stomach will be coming out so I'm just stalling.

I kind of like being drunk. It's like I'm not real, like I'm not on the earth, just somewhere else, somewhere unknown. I've always loved escaping. Photography is a form of escape for me but I think it's not enough. I feel that writers and readers are the ones who have the best form of escape. They get to travel to a whole new world, with a whole different people, a whole different storyline…

I wish I could escape forever, just travel through a portal into this new and exciting fantasy world or something. Start afresh, get to be someone different, get to meet different people, get to live a different life.

Because why do I have to do this shit? Why do I have to get a job? Why do I have to live under a set of rules and procedures just because everyone says so and because everyone stupidly and blindly agrees to follow along?

I hate myself, I hate my life. If I don't get to travel to a different world, at least I wish I could get a chance to do this all over again, start afresh. I know I don't have the worst life but I really hate the one I have and maybe I sound ungrateful, but I don't care. I just want to start over.

I start to get drowsier by the second and I feel myself slipping away from consciousness. I don't want to pass out here. I'm still a little far from home (not that I'll like to be there of course), and if I do pass out, I don't know when I'll wake up.

Eh, fuck it. My mind tells me.

Fine, I'll just let my eyes stay shut for like five or ten minutes. Then I'll get down from here.

Big mistake of course, but my drunkened brain doesn’t know about that. In seconds, I feel myself slipping deeper and deeper out of consciousness…until I finally black out.

***
Ah my favourite scene.

Stuffy, hot room, flashing multicoloured lights, sweaty, moving bodies, flailing limbs, hormonal teens making out at random, questionable corners of the place, unmistakable, appalling stench of alcohol mixed with the smell of sweaty bodies and dense perfumes, obnoxiously loud pop music blaring from speakers all around me.

I take in a deep breath and try to look for a relatively quiet space where there's enough oxygen for me to breathe properly.

“Yo Jordan!” I visibly cringe. I've been trying to avoid him and the rest of the team ever since I got here and I really thought I could do that before the end of the night. I guess I failed.

Drew ambles over to me, clutching a cup of what is probably alcoholic in his his right hand while holding on to some other chic in his left. She's dressed in a really tight, short, red dress that is revealing…a lot.

I feel the chic’s eyes slowly move over my body, drinking me in from head to toe. I pretend not to notice and give Drew a tight smile, amidst my slight shudder

“Sup,” I say giving him a nod. “Sick party.”

“I know, I'm called the king of parties for a reason.”

I chuckle at him and gesture to the cup in his hands.
“How many of those have you had already?”

“This should be my ninth or something,” he murmurs with a shrug and I nod, feigning nonchalance. If I had up to that amount I'd be a mess right now.

“Anyway,” I say as an overwhelming feeling of anxiety comes over me, making me almost puke out the little food I've had this evening. “I should leave you with your…girl.”

He nods. “See you at school. The event went well and coach is really happy with us so you should celebrate, loosen up. And party like you've never partied before!”

“Okay, Drewy, time to go,” his slutty girl purrs and drags him away, giving me once last flirty glance before they leave.

Did she just wink at me?

I shudder once again but relief takes over me as I finally spot a dark hallway where I can hide till the party is over and then safetly get out of here.

When I find a spot I know is safe enough, I drop to the ground and lean against it, dropping the cup of alcohol in my hand that I've barely touched next to me.

I take several deep breaths until I feel like I'm breathing properly enough.

Did Albert and Felix find a replacement?

Would we really drop out of the tournament…just like that?

I finally find the courage to take out my phone and read the texts that have been piling up since the beginning of the formal event we went to just before coming to Drew's party. I knew what the sudden flood of texts meant but I was to scared to check them out.

Albert: dude where are you?
           Don't tell me you went to that stupid party thing

Felix: Jordan what's up? The game is about to start in like ten minutes.
     I'd rather lose shamefully that lose…by forfeit

Albert: …I think he went to the party

Felix: that dickhead…

Albert: he betrayed us

Felix: dude seriously…this is not cool. You know this match is really important to us…to me…please
       You can't do this. That's not fair. We let you go to the formal event because we knew it was important. But ditching us for a lame ass party is just cold.

Albert: I heard the party is sick though

Felix: dude…not helping

Albert: And…we've lost. We fucking lost. All because of you

Felix: And you aren't saying anything. Jordan??!!!

Albert:  wait till TJ hears this, he's gonna have a long laugh

Felix: Fuck you Albert. This isn't a joke.

Albert: I know, I'm sorry.

Felix went offline. And then Albert.

Fuck fuck fuck. They're never gonna talk to me again.

***

“Eli I'm sorry. Look it was–”

“I don't care…what you have to say. Just leave me alone.”

I run after her even though I know I shouldn't. I know I shouldn't be around her.

“Get the fuck away from me!” she cries and I'm forced to halt. “My parents punished me because of your stupidity. They said…they said that I won't go to acting school anymore.”

She lets out a sob and I have to refrain myself from taking a step further. I feel like I'm going to fall over from shock.

“What…?” I manage. “But that's too far. That's your dream.”

“Well, yeah. Smoking cigarettes was also too far.” She pauses and wipes the tears from her damp cheeks. “They were looking for a good reason to hate you, Jordan. And I tried and tried to convince them that you were the amazing, kind, funny and sweet guy that I loved. And you just had to screw it up, you just had to prove to them that you were the bad influence they saw you as.”

“Loved…?” I croak, her words suddenly registering in my head. My heart compresses and I can almost not breathe.

“Yeah, you dummy. I loved you. L-o-v-e-d. Past tense. I don't love you anymore.”

“Eliza wait–” I say, advancing forward just an inch but she flinches as if my touch will kill her or something.

“Dont…touch me. Just…don't speak to me again. Forget about me. We're moving next week anyway, so either way this,” she gestures to both of us. “It was never going to work out.”

She gives me a long, intense look that is filled with nothing but hate. “You told me about your…curse. I didn't believe you, but now I do. I wish I did.”

“I'm sorry,” I say, finally surrendering to the tears that I've have been fighting with for the last few minutes. I feel the tingle as they run down both my cheeks cinematically, dropping down on my rumpled, tie-dye t-shirt.

“I just hope every person you tell about the stupid curse of a thing actually believes you, before you fuck up their own lives. They don't deserve to be with someone like you.”

Her last words did the damage. They cut right though me, tearing my heart into two. She really did break my heart and I felt like it was never going to get healed.

I walked away in shame and anger and regret and a lot of self hate, from the girl I once loved, still reeling from the bitter words she just used on me.

And the worst part was that I knew she was right. People didn't deserve to be with someone like me. I was bad luck, I was a curse. That's why I always believed that I was always going to be better alone.