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I had learned a few things so far: margaritas didn’t go well with beer, and Nya PonPons surely didn’t mix with Brenton Bandits. Lin had left as soon as she realised how crowded Mina’s apartment had gotten. Elenore stayed for about an hour, glued to the edge of the scruffy sofa.

“I don’t like it here,” she whispered the first time I approached her.

“I’m leaving,” she said when I was about to offer her a beer.

Now, the only pioneers left were Paul, Sam and I. To my surprise, the two of them did quite well. Sam, with his pretty-privilege, has already befriended most of the Brenton Bandits; meanwhile Paul found a beat-up Xbox (that was enough to keep him entertained for an entire night).

I was doing Okay. I hadn’t become one of the Brenton Bandit’s yet, but I was on the right track. More time was needed to come up with a plan. At first, I just took over Elenore’s spot, catching bits and pieces of the chaotic chatter:

Mina’s roommate was Rex, an odd nick-name for an odd blue-haired girl. The other three guys’ initials were LOL: Leo… Oleg… the third one has slipped my mind.

The long-haired guy wasn’t just a guy anymore, he was Dan. He had tattoos on his left arm; a snake and a bunch of other strange creatures. His husky voice dominated the conversation, as they discussed the German city Ramstein and someone called Till Lindemann.

I said hi a few times, but neither of them heard me; it was a poor strategy. To hell with my rumbling stomach, I was one drink away from getting to know Brenton Bandits.

As I was strolling to get another beer, I realised how eerie similar this place was to Paul’s. The layout - nearly identical; two bedrooms at the end of the hallway, and a tiny kitchen that barely fit a regular sized table.

There were a few differences, however. Paul lived alone, and Mina had three roommates, two of them being cockroaches I saw sprinting towards the kitchen cabinets; Paul’s walls were all covered with a 50-year old wallpaper, and most of Mina’s walls stood bare, scribbled with creepy human-like figures.

My belly released a louder rumble, probably confused by the beer I was chugging. My mind has been satisfied though, as I finally felt ready to befriend Brenton Bandits.

“Hi,” I exclaimed as soon as Mina entered the kitchen.

She glanced at me, reaching for the fridge, “cute sweater.”

“Thanks. I got it from a thrift store. Cost me, like, three Euros.”

“Cute, cute, cute…”

I was doing great, “Where can I smoke?”

Mina stopped in the doorway, hand clenching an unopened can, “Balcony.”

At first, I thought it was the balcony next to the living room, but the doors wouldn’t budge. Wait, there had to be another one, just like the one adjacent to the Paul's room, if I remembered the layout correctly.

I marched through the hall and stopped by the door. Was it okay to invade someone's room? What if they were busy? I knocked, but no one answered. Carefully, I pushed the door just to be greeted by a tiny empty room, its walls covered with posters. I didn't dare to peek at any of them though, I rushed to the balcony, and shut the door. It had to be it—there were flower pots blooming with cigarette butts, and a collection of empty smoke packs stacked into an uneven pyramid.

I flung the window open. Even though it was the end of the summer, the breeze was still pleasant; not cool enough to fog my glasses, yet chilly enough to rejuvenate my heated skin. It whooshed somewhere from the dark forest, passing lines of commie-blocks, right into my smiling face. It was a good night.

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I couldn’t have asked Universe for more, I had to do better myself. If only Dan knew my name. One-on-one conversations were my thing, but he was constantly surrounded by people. If there were just the two of us, we would have been friends already.

All of a sudden, balcony doors let out a sorrowful squeak. Soft steps; one, then another, and a tattooed hand reaching for my shoulder. It was Dan.

“Lighter?” he asked.

I handed it in an instance, wiping my sweaty palms before he could notice.

Dan leaned on the window frame and lighted a cigarette, “who let you in here?”

“M-Mina”

“I’m just messing,” Dan laughed.

“It’s a c-cool place.”

“You’re a Sam’s friend?”

“Yeah, I’m-”

A loud beep interrupted our conversation. My mom was calling me. Again.

“A worried girlfriend?” Dan asked.

“Yes.” I quickly turned off my phone.

“You won’t even answer it?”

“She lives in Canada. Canadians are ok with that.”

Dan grinned, “Sure, pal. Those girlfriends, right?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?” my voice was greeted by Rex, Leo and Sam’s babble as they were trying to squeeze into the balcony.

“Danny, Danny,” Rex hugged him from behind, “where is your girlfriend, huh?” she must have overheard me.

“We used to date,” Dan patted Rex’s hand, looking at Sam but not me, “we’re cool now though.”

“You two guys?” Sam lighted a cig, “there’s no way you could have scored Rex.”

Rex giggled, oblivious of Sam’s lies; it was obvious Dan was much prettier, “Yeah, yeah, it was ages ago.”

“We were basically babies,” added Dan, now completely turning his back on me. Damn you, Sam.

“Yeah, we were like 17 back then?” Rex took a short puff, “I didn’t freak out when we broke up. But when he started dating a guy right after me?”

I froze.

“Bisexual wasn’t a word yet back then,” Dan said.

“I’m bisexual too.” I have no idea why I said that.

As Sam began choking on his cigarette, Rex looked at me, “Oh, good for you.”

“When are we smoking the hookah?” finally spoke Leo

“I was just telling my little bisexual friend about it. We could do it now, you guys ready?” Dan put out his cigarette.

“Always ready,” said Rex, and followed the others into the room, leaving me and Sam behind.

Confused, I lighted another cigarette. I haven’t smoked a hookah before, but I knew what it was. Hookahs originated in India, and soon became popular between noblemen. Nowadays, it was a social thing of sorts; everyone used the same mouthpiece. It meant my lips would touch the same spot as Dan’s-

“You sure you want that? We could leave now. Crash at Paul’s,” Sam interrupted.

What was his deal? Sam thought he could keep his cool friends for himself. Little did he know, it was too late. I was about to become one of them. Or did Sam think that I, someone who smoked a pack a day, couldn’t handle some hookah?

“I’m good.”

“You sure?” he insisted.

“Yes, Sam. I’m sure.”

He nodded and, to my surprise, kept his mouth shut until our cigarettes turned into ashes.

-

A disk-shaped coal flickered in the dim living room, as Dan was trying to ignite it. I plopped down on the floor next to Paul, who was glancing at Mina sitting right in front of him.

“Man, I thought you have left with Elenore,” Paul whispered.

Dan was the first one to take a puff. As he exhaled a cloud of smoke, I finally dared to peek at his face. Foggy, his eyes indeed were brown, black even. No piercings, however, just a cheeky grin framed by a medium sized beard. Surrounded by smoke, he resembled a Norse god.

“Your turn, Nick,” said Paul.

I must have dozed off, I didn’t even examine how a hookah had to be smoked. Lips reached for the mouthpiece; I inhaled. My throat was a bit tingly, but I refused to cough. It was easy. I took two more puffs without any trouble.

When the hookah’s hose made a few circles, everyone leaned back; Dan, accompanied by the LOL guys, was slouched on the sofa, Rex and Mina laid on the floor, heads resting on round decorative pillows. Paul and Sam leaned on the wall right beside me, eyes shut. A weird ritual it was.

It began as a tingling sensation in my legs; and as soon as I closed my eyes, a familiar feeling hit me. Any thought that pierced my mind, would now turn into genuine matter. I thought of a cloud, and I could touch its fluffy silhouette. I pictured a river and it encircled me, tickling my bare feet with its torrent.

Then, I tried to recreate what I’ve just witnessed; Dan’s face. Two almond shaped eyes. Long nose, slightly crooked to the right. Prominent cheekbones; and soft lips, getting closer and closer until I could feel them colliding with my skin.

Dan kissed me?! I opened my eyes in panic, margarita-beer mix slowly creeping up my stomach. No one has moved, Dan still on the sofa, eyes closed. I tried to stand up, but my limbs wouldn’t agree. Conquered by terror, I tried to collect my thoughts, but they

wouldn’t

stop

melting.

“Fuck” was my last cohesive thought before I blacked out.