It is the privilege, some say duty, of the young to embrace the fullness of life before they are overtaken by age and responsibility. That was the philosophy that I lived by in the wild and wonderful years shortly after I graduated from university. I was lucky enough to land a decent job in a great city, and had begun to spend my nights exploring the fascinating demi-monde of nightclubs, dive bars and all night parties. Over time, I had managed to accumulate a solid, trusting circle of friends with whom I could greet life in all of its glory. Never blinking. Never turning away. I was young, unfettered and the only thing I had to fear was regret.
The night was cool and chilly as I arrived at Jessica's apartment building. I was there to pick her up as we headed to our friend, Malcolm's, 30th birthday. An enfant terrible in his own right, Malcolm was one of the more extravagant friends I'd ever known and he had built up a notorious reputation for throwing fantastic parties, so there was no doubt that he was going to see his twenties off in high, decadent style. Now the only question was what qualified as high decadence.
"Hey, Chris, come on in. still getting ready. Sorry. You know how girls are."
Though, I quickly pushed such speculation from my mind as Jessica opened the door and greeted me. Jessica and I were friends going all the way back to university, when she was roommates and best friends with Teresa, my old ex-girlfriend and now Malcolm's fiance. Teresa and I had been together throughout our school days, but had broken up on near the end of our senior year. We were both young, both changing, and frankly, both stupid; unable to make up our minds about whether or not we wanted to be with each other. Arguments about needing some space turned into misinterpretations of cheating turned into jealousy and messiness. I kept my distance from Teresa for a while, but we both moved in the same circles, and we'd see each other around. Jess was always good, though, about playing the neutral mediator and playing down any awkwardness, always patient and always ready with a charming distraction.
"Make yourself at home, Chris. I just need to put some makeup on, and I'll be ready to go."
True to her word, Jessica didn't leave me waiting for long before she emerged, looking quite fetching indeed. She had donned a light gunmetal grey vintage-y dress that worked with her dark hair to bring out the blue in her eyes and clung to her body in all of the right ways. Jess could go on in lengthy tirades against the twigs that represented modern women's fashion, and unlike Teresa, who had a lean, dancer's body, Jess had curves that she was never shy of accentuating.
"So," Jessica asked as she grabbed her jacket, "any ideas what's in store for tonight?"
"No," I replied. "Do you have any theories?"
"Well," she said as she rooted about for her house keys, "Mal's been spending a bit of time talking to Tim and you know what that might mean." ...
Tim was our friendly neighborhood drug pusher; though he preferred the term "facilitator." While my friends and I were hardly what one might call addicts, we all certainly were experienced, most of us had enjoyed the occasional line of ecstasy or tab of LSD at a party in the past. Some folks use a vodka and Red Bull to prime themselves for a night out; we used amphetamines. It lowered inhibitions, made the night more fun, and so long as everyone knew what they were getting into, the drugs usually didn't create too much carnage. Usually.
"What do you think of that?" I asked Jessica.
"Well ..." she trailed off while considering her answer. She looked at me then, her blue eyes locking on me with her usual intensity. "We're all consenting adults. Besides, you're only young and invulnerable once, right?" ...
"Right."
In no time, we were in my car, heading down the city's main boulevards to Justin's downtown loft. Fast music on the stereo, anticipation building in our minds.
It was Justin who was hosting Malcolm's party. Best friends since before I knew either of them, Malcolm and Justin were an ideal pair, sharing tastes in wine, women and whimsy. Though, while Malcolm was the bon vivant, the dynamic center of gravity for any social situation, Justin was the quiet, more cerebral fellow who took care of all the details, planning events, setting the stage and making things happen. It was a division of roles that suited both of them quite well.
Even now that Justin was engaged to Olivia we hardly noticed any slowdown in his partying; and if rumors were to be believed, it seemed that Justin was still one to share his pleasure with his dear friend. Of course, I was never one to give much weight to rumor.
On the way there Jessica asked, "looking forward to seeing Teresa again?"
The time apart between Terry and I had been good for us, and we had both eventually gotten over each other. Now that she was engaged to Malcolm, the earlier tension between us had dissolved, though there was a still a way that we held each other's gaze a bit longer than everyone else.
For her part, Jessica had been a steadfast friend to both of us, giving me an attentive ear and supportive heart. While a part of me wondered what would have happened if things had been different, if I had started dating her instead of Teresa, another part realized that such speculation was useless. Our histories are our histories, and we can only think of what we can do, not what we could have done. Jess, for her part, always blushed whenever I brought the subject up and said it was just weird to think of it. She was our friend. That's the way she wanted it, and that's the way it would be.
We arrived at the party, and were apparently one of the last ones there. Justin was at the door to greet us.
"Good evening. We were about to cancel the party if you didn't show up."
"Oh gosh, why the pressure?" Jess said with mock embarassment. "We're not the ones having the birthday."
"Ah, but you, my dear are the one bringing all of the charm."
Probably the oldest member of our circle, a high paid software architect at some tech company, Justin had built a fairly nice life for himself in the way that all architects do ... one step and structure at a time. I always had the feeling that every word and every deed of his had some agenda or idea. Nothing nefarious, of course, but just constant and deliberate.
Behind him was his fiance, Olivia, a devastatingly gorgeous redhead with warm, green eyes, cute nose and luscious lips. The two of us had also been friends, but nothing more. Either I was in a relationship while she was single, or she was involved with someone when I was free. Now that she was engaged to Justin, it was just inconvenient, yet we both were fond of flirting with each other. That the ring on her finger made it clear how far either of us could go. She kissed me on the cheek and said that she was also glad that we had arrived.
As we advanced further inside, I made eye contact with Tim and his girlfriend, Wendy, both whom looked quite pleased with themselves. Tim was a handsome fellow with a roguish goatee and swanky wardrobe. Wendy was nubile young blonde with long hair, dark eyes and a charming smile. She was dressed in a short skirt and a cap-sleeved top with a plunging neckline that emphasized her impressive cleavage. How impressive? It is perhaps enough to say that Wendy was 24, and as some men know, 24 is a rare and lovely age for a woman's tits. As she approached to greet us, those delightful eyes twinkled and she asked, "looking forward to tonight?"
I had tried to pump her for clues about what was planned for the evening, but Wendy played it sly and told us that we just had to wait and see. The last bit she said as she moved on, leaving me the lovely sight of how her skirt flounced with her stride.
It was Malcolm who found us next with Teresa on his arm.
"Chris! So glad you could make it."
From anyone else, that would've sounded trite, but I've known Malcolm well enough to know that he's always been sincere about it. We'd known each other for years. Partied at the same clubs. Chased the same women. Cried on each other's shoulders and celebrated each other's successes. Now, here he was, turning thirty and getting old, and glad to have me with him on the next phase of his journey.
Though, from the gleam in Teresa's eye, Malcolm wasn't the only one who was glad that I was here. While her engagement to Malcolm was a relatively recent thing, it was probably the one thing that we needed to finally settle things with each other. She was now engaged, committed, and the way that we looked and smiled at each other could now be seen as simply friendship rather than the embers of romance. That was what we needed to be friends again.
We all chatted over our past, sharing war stories and waxing nostalgic over memories before Jessica interrupted, saying, "listen to us reminiscing. We're all starting to sound like old folks in the retirement home."
"Oh believe me, my dear," Malcolm said as he regarded her coolly. "I have no intention of retiring anytime soon."
"Jessica!"
I could recognize Misha's voice anywhere. All the moreso now that she was barrelling across the room to hug us in greeting. A friend of Jessica's that she had brought into our circle; the appearance of Misha was a sure-bet at any event where Jessica might be attending. With a Japanese father and a Russian mother, Misha was a mutt, albeit a fascinatingly exotic one, possessed of long, lustrous dark hair and proud Slavic cheekbones. Her boyfriend Francis was here as well, chatting with Alexis and Quentin at the other side of the room. As Misha dragged Jessica away to catch up, I excused myself as well and made my way over to Quentin's side.
Quentin was also another friend of mine, closer than anyone else in this room. He was slightly more conservative in his lifestyle, though you wouldn't know it from the looks of him. Like Misha, he was also Asian -- Chinese, and wore his hair in a long ponytail that hid tattoos that ran across his back and shoulders. Appearing to all the world like some tough, biker thug, he rarely drank and had never done drugs. Both he and Alexis had generally excused themselves when the speed and LSD appeared at past parties. So I was more than a bit surprised to see them here tonight. But judging from their questions to Francis, it looks like that was all about to change.
Francis was a bit like Mal and Justin, a guy who liked a good time, but was less subtle and a little more brazen and blunt about things. He was a tall, big guy, with the loudest laugh in any room and the most voracious appetite at any table.
