Post by `delia fletcher on May 13, 2008 16:00:04 GMT -5
DELIA JOY FLETCHER ,
I PICKED HER UP AND SHE WAS THREE FOURTHS GONE .
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[/size][/font]The Friday night energy was alive in the room, crinkling like static. The bass line was alive, the DJ was feeling the beat and Deejay was feeling the beat. Her insides were electric and the seventeen year old felt more alive tonight than she had in a long time. Tonight, she was letting out all the stops. She was letting go of all the frustrations of life for one night, even though she knew she'd be feeling it in the morning. Nothing was going to stop her from unwinding today. The last few months had been stressful for the girl - what with Demi finding out and flipping out about their father's affair and the fact that he was going to be marrying the woman he had cheated on their mother with. And of course, her mother was melting down about that and the fact that her brother, Matthew, had called a few days ago to ask if he could bring home his girlfriend with him at Christmas to meet the family. And Delia seemed to get the brunt of all of it. She was support system for her sister and her mother. They both needed her just like she needed them, but sometimes... they needed her a little too much. This was when Delia tended to let loose a little more, drink a little more and stay out of the house a little more. She loved her mother and sister dearly, they just got a little too needy sometimes.
Delia's tiny frame was lost within the sweaty mass of people on the dance floor. The seventeen year old firecracker was letting the music take control of her - arms up in the air, she was dancing with everyone and no one. She had come to Duex by herself that night not worried, like most people would be, about partying by herself. Delia was not one of those people who were afraid to melt into a new crowd. It didn't matter if she didn't know anybody when she got there - by the end of the night she'd have a handful of new friends that she would come and party with again. Del was very good at making new friends - especially when she had been drinking. And tonight, that's what she had been doing. Armed with a fake id - in her name and her brother's birthday, so she could remember it at the drop of a hat - Delia had waited impatiently in the long line to get into the club. A little flirting with the bouncer and she had gotten in and immediately melted into the crowd. It didn't take her long to dance her way over to the bar to order a drink. Remembering her rhyme (beer before liquor, get sick quicker; liquor before beer, have no fear) she ordered a gin martini. And she began mingling. Soon she'd down two martinis and a bottle of beer, and was moving her way out onto the dance floor.
The manners and taboos of her day to day society were slipping away from her. She was losing herself to the energy of the room and the volume of the music. Every thought, every worry disappeared from her mind and she let herself go. Delia was head banging, two-stepping and grinding with the best of them. It was her, the music and the group surrounding her. Her heart race was up, keeping time with the music. Sweat was gathering at the back of her neck and her forehead, clinging to her skin and her long hair. This is what it felt like to be free: the crowded club, the loud music pumping from the DJ booth, the band setting up on the stage for it's set, the dancing, the joy, the alcohol. Nothing else mattered when you were in this room. It was all about the music, the booze and the people around you. The outside turmoils didn't matter here. That is why Delia loved Duex so much. This was her time.
The song ended, and Delia clapped and cheered along with the rest of the club. A wave of disappointment washed over her as the DJ announced that he'd be stopping his set until after the live band played theirs, and that the music would resume in a moment. It was about time for a break, though, so Delia escaped the dance floor and headed for the bar. She ordered another martini and found a place to sit at the back of the club. Raising herself up onto the stool, she placed her drink down on the table and surveyed the club. It looked to be packed to the brim with people. The buzz of conversation was everywhere and the sounds of the guitarists warming up washed over the speakers. It was a typical night out, and Delia was hoping with all her might that someone would make it extraordinary. Sighing, she pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of the pocket of her green skinny jeans. She took out a cancer stick, light up and took a drag and waited for the live band to start up.
