Thanks to Billie Eilish for writing this song, which is the inspiration for the title. :)
Sorry it's so short. One of those times where I find myself spewing words and not really adding much other than what is coming to mind. Sorry if it's horrible!
WHEN THE PARTY'S OVER
I'm alone when the party starts.
And I wish I could tell you I enjoyed it. I wish I could say I liked being alone in the party scene; without anyone to make me look cool. Without anyone to hang around; to push around; to follow back home.
But I hate it. Darry says I get high off of life – but not the party life. Not unless I'm with someone.
And I hate that I hate it. It's loud, there's booze, Two-Bit and Steve are somewhere around here... It should be fine.
I should be fine.
But I'm not. I'm in the corner, lightly sipping on a can of beer, acting like I don't belong here, even though everyone and their mother knows me, Sodapop Curtis, is at his very first party of the fucking year, and they'll be damned if they don't see me throw off my shirt and stumble home without anyone to carry me if I fall.
Of course, that was last year. This year is different.
I've never had anxiety, so it's odd when I find myself slumped against the wall in order to avoid the very people I hang out with. I'm not popular like Darry, or smart like Pony, so these are my people. The drunks, the druggies, the hippies – these are my friends.
Though Steve and Two-Bit are the only two souls I find myself recognizing through the clouds of joint smoke, I still consider all of them my friends.
I'm not sure why, but through the clouds of smoke and the smell of spilled beer, these people feel like home to me.
Steve and Two-Bit take off earlier than I thought they would.
Which leaves me still by myself, but at least mingling around the bars and chairs and women.
And, for some reason, I find myself at the very back of the house, heading towards a girl that looks like she's about to pass out.
For some reason, I recognize her the closer I get. For some reason, she recognizes me; the needle in her arm, the blood pooling at her feet, and all she can do is stare at me.
The music blares against my ears. I can barely hear what she's saying, but through the hard bass drops, I make out the words "get the fuck away from me".
And then she's falling, and I'm right there, and damn it, she falls against my chest with a thump just as the bass drops again for another song.
Her heartbeat slows against mine. I don't let her go. The needle remains in her arm, empty beyond anything worth saving.
The music stops.
Everything stops.
Her heartbeat slows further.
Mine speeds up.
Doors open.
Doors shut.
And I'm alone when the party ends.