A few shouts went up as the grandfather clock struck twelve. A handful of confetti burst from somewhere in the crowd of guests. The people who were still sober enough to stand, danced. Tom was still lurking at his café table. His eyes were shining from the drink he was sipping, and his jet-black hair seemed even more untidy than its usual mess. Jane had left for the bar; Rae and Dorian weren't five meters off, talking over the loud music.
"Happy new year, love," mumbled Tom, his cockney banter just starting to slur. A slight, dark-haired girl standing by the table looked at him with a kind of pity. After knowing Tom for two years, she was used to him skulking off with his drink whenever he attended a party. She stepped closer to talk to him.
"What'd you get?" she asked. Tom waved the glass drunkenly, until the girl took it from him and took a swig.
"It's absinthe," said Tom matter-of-factly, reaching for the glass. She let him take it.
"Boy are you gonna be wasted," she said. She looked over at the bar, where no such drink was being served, then back at Tom. "Let me guess. You brought your own?"
Tom grinned, and pulled a green bottle from under his chair. "Care to join?" he asked. She sighed, and sat daintily in the chair opposite him. "Got another glass?" she asked wearily. Tom slid an empty glass across the table to her.
"Thought you'd be off with Jane," he mumbled.
"Yeah, right," came the quiet voice from across the table, "Not really into following her around all night."
"What about…Rae? And Dorian?"
She looked over at where the two guys had been. By the looks of things, Rae had had a few drinks, and noticing that, Dorian had abandoned any shyness he may have brought. The girl shook her head as she prepared her drink and raised the glass to her lips.
"I don't know why I go to these," she said, "This is all I ever do." She sipped from the glass and looked at the thick, red curtains that covered what must have been windows; the only thing between the guests inside and the winters' night outside. She had to admit, this was considerably more inviting than the cold air and swirling snow. What did it matter that she felt out-of-place?
Tom's eyelids were beginning to sag, and his hand flopped listlessly at the base of his glass. Jane was nowhere to be seen; Rae and Dorian had retired to a little couch in the corner of the room, getting increasingly drunk. It was then that she noticed the stranger standing by the bar, separated from the crowd. He was dressed in black jeans and a rumpled white silk shirt. His eyes never left her for a moment.
She shuddered and looked away, but she could sense that he was still watching her. His eyes seemed to be burning two holes in her back. She suspected he was a friend of Tom's; it wasn't unlike Tom to hang around odd people.
"Tom, do you know that guy?" she murmured; it felt as though the stranger was listening to every word she was saying…from across the room, over the music? No, she thought, that's impossible.
Her question was answered with a loud snore from Tom. His head rested on the café table. She scanned the crowd for Rae and Dorian, but the couch was empty. She looked to the bar, and Jane too had disappeared. The stranger hadn't, though. He hardly moved, and nobody spoke to him. Could it be that she was the only one who noticed him there?
As she backed away, her hand touched something cool. Her heart leaped at the sound of glass shattering; she looked down to see a pool of absinthe surrounding the scattered shards of her glass. She took one last look at the stranger, and felt the floor disappear from under her when she saw the ominously familiar smile on his face.
Suddenly she felt dizzy. The pressing crowd was making her sweat. The absinthe was affecting her balance. She couldn't breathe. The brass knob on the door was almost within reach, when a ginger-haired girl in a short, stylish purple dress burst out of the crowd.
"Hey, where you goin'?" she laughed, grabbing the dark-haired girl's wrist.
"Out," she replied, trying to pull herself free of Jane's grasp. Jane giggled. "What's the matter, you look so depressed!" she said. The dark-haired girl shook her head. "Déja vu," she muttered, yanking her hand away from Jane and diving for the door. A flurry of snow danced into the room, and the cold air sting her bare shoulders as she stepped outside. Jane was confused. "Sarah, where are you going?" she called after her friend, but the door slammed shut.