#redacted stranger

It was finally the day many wait for with anticipation. Turning into and adult was supposed to be more exciting but the only change he noticed was the plastic ID with a photo that did not him any justice, looming realisation of a job search and the sweet cake he was woken up to in the morning. Tasty, if he had to judge. Beside the number of his age, nothing else seemed to change and he still didn't understand what Alexis meant, the freedom wasn't any different, but maybe because he already was way too grown up for his age.

It was different, to say the least. It felt different and not only because he never liked his birthdays. He shook his head. Existential crisis on the most important of birthdays could wait some more.

The pavement under his shoes felt bumpy, just like the wallet he had in his pocket, filled with cash. Gifts from family, closer and further. Everyone got him something, even if it was just a couple of bills hidden between the birthday cards. And now, he was on his way to aimlessly spend it, one last indulgence before the inevitable boring life that was ahead of him, filled with tax brackets, 9-5 and peer pressure from society.

Damn, he was a gloom.

One thing caught his mind as he continued his walk. A flashy and way too bright neon sign screamed at him from his left, the banner attached to a red brick wall making him squint from how bright it was.

"The Surge"

Must be new in town, he'd never seen the club before. Or maybe haven't paid enough attention, it being far away from places of this level, not only due to his age.

He was an adult now. He could do what he wanted to, the ID opening more doors than he ever could.

And the same thing happened then, the bouncer nodding at him with understanding behind his eyes, the entrance opened for him and him only, almost as if he was someone important. It was…exciting, for sure. Especially, when he saw the inside, huge lights hung low, the light bulbs dimmed and kept mostly in red and orange colour, raw bricks on the wall adding a bit of pretentious and industrial look to it. Wooden chairs and plush booths, two bartenders behind the counter, silver of their shakers glinting in the dim lamps on the counter, huge variety of drinks behind them, stacked on the glass shelves.

Fancy. Probably expensive. Way out of his league and he already heard Alexis making fun of him for landing in a place like this, standing out like a sore thumb.

He sat down in one corner, a little hidden from the rest of the patrons, nervous hand brushing through his hair when his eyes landed on the front of the club, small stage occupied with a band that began to set up their things on it. Live music, he read on the chalkboard hung on the wall, letters neat and big enough to read that the drinks were half off in the happy hour. Maybe he should indulge himself in that offer?

Maybe. So he stood up, uncertain step leading him right to the bar, hand reaching for the little cardboard with popular drinks written on it, variety sparse and tempting. And when his eyes began to scan the paper, the stage came to life, bassist playing first few notes, a new person doing the mic test.

One, two, three

He had to sit down when he looked up, because the person on the stage surely had to be a ghost. Not that they looked the part, absolutely not, not with the pearl necklaces and well fitting suit, glitter all over their eyes and fingers wrapped around the microphone so casually despite looking the part of a cover of a magazine. No, it was not that look that made them a ghost.

He remembered the evenings spend together, two people seated next to each other on the stars leading down to the beach, his siblings far down on the shore, playing in the sand under the watchful eyes of his father, and he finally had time for himself for the first time in forever. And a friend by his side, though stranger fit them more. They met two days ago, when his family arrived at the place they were supposed to stay in for the summer.

They introduced themselves first, out of boredom they said. There wasn't many kids their age, so the two clung to each other quickly, friendship immediately formed over bracelets, colourful braids they dragged him into getting, collecting sea shells on the beach and sneaking through windows when no was one looking. Drinking soda till their stomachs hurt, of course he always had to spill it over himself because he always opened the can in a way that made it fizz out, eating fries and waffles because when you are by the sea, it's mandatory. "Stolen" raspberries from neighbour's garden, so many bruises left by attempts to climb trees that mostly ended up with a loud "ouch".

The summers he spent with them were the most magical time he always looked forward to whenever the months turned warmer and the sun stayed up longer throughout the day. Until one year, his dad sat them all down and said that the place shut down. And he never saw them again, only fond memories left behind, most nights spent beating himself up for not finding a way to keep in contact with them somehow.

Ghost from his past.

"Will there be anything for you?" the bartender asked, a little bit irritated. Vincent cleared his throat.

"You've been standing here for at least good ten minutes." the annoyed man said again, hearing no response.

"Huh?"

"That's fine. Two gin and tonics, please." the same voice spoke over his shoulder. He turned around to see the person standing next to him, effortlessly looking so perfect and so similar.

"I–"

"–seem overwhelmed with something. Take it as an act of kindness." they shrugged their shoulders.

"Is this seat taken?" the only thing he managed was to shake his head.

"Then it will be, until the band figures out what's wrong with the speakers."

So effortlessly talkative.

When the drinks were given to them, he immediately took a sip. One for courage, second because how awkward he felt and third for courage again. It's been years.

"Woah, there." they raised their eyebrow, sipping on their own.

"Sorry…just…"

"Nervous?"

"You may say that."

The drink was awful. How the hell people drink it and say they like it?

"So…" they started, staring at him with half lidded eyes.

"Are you real?"

The silence that fell after his words made even the not so subtly eavesdropping bartender stop the shaking of another drink. The half lidded eyes widened in surprise and he felt himself crumbling how awkward the moment felt.

"What?"

"I…sorry but…are you real? It's…been years since I last saw you and…holy shit you haven't changed a thing."

The expression on their face showed how great of a job he was doing. They set down their drink.

"What are you talking about?"

"Hey, I know it's been some time but surely you can remember me? Vincent? We…met few years back…during holidays…?" with every next word that fell from his mouth, his tone got slower and quieter, seeing the confusion.

"I'm the one who spilled soda all over my father's laptop bag?"

"Well, that sucks for you and your father then." they simply said, looking back at the band, one of the members waving back at them, another showing "thumbs up".

"Weirdo." he could hear them say it under their breath when they slipped from the chair and walked away, their drink on the counter, barely touched.

"Good job, man. Are you paying now, or are you keeping an open tab?" the bartender returned, this time instead of annoyance, a snarky smile painted his lips.

Vincent just sighed and grabbed his wallet. So this was the adulthood his father warned him about.

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some visuals for Lovely and Stranger (see what me and @bochen273 did there? hehe)

next part?

~~~

“ you’ve always looked familiar to me, ” Lovely giggles as they lay on Vincent’s chest.

“ maybe in a past life, I held your hand. ”