Rhythmic and pounding music blared, the bass deep and loud enough that it felt like a drum was beating within Archibald’s chest.
Hundreds of young adults lost themselves and danced along to the rhythm of the music. Above them strobe lights flashed and flitted around the dance floor, spraying out a barrage of multicolored light that entranced the intoxicated clubbers.
Archibald found himself dancing in the midst of the crowd. In one hand he carried a shot of vodka in a plastic cup, the other he was using to wrap his arm around a girl he had never even seen before the night began. Quickly downing the shot, Archibald soon felt the music becoming better and better. Hell, it even felt like he might actually enjoy the night if things continued this way.
Unfortunately, however, due to the increasingly urgent protests of his bladder, he was forced to quickly untangle himself from the young woman before he was even able to get her number.
“Damn, I don’t even think I knew her name.” He indifferently noted. Too wasted to care much more, he set off to find a bathroom.
Pushing and stumbling out of the crowd he deliriously tried to find a vantage point from which he could use to locate a bathroom.
“I should have at least located one before I started drinking. Fuck my head’s spinning. What the hell am I even doing?” He mentally reprimanded himself.
Before he was able to resume his search for the bathroom, however, he heard someone call him over the noise of the club “Archibald! Get your ass over here!” Barely hiding an annoyed snort Archibald stumbled over to a group of young adults sitting at a booth. “Bro, down this!” Shoved a jello shot, he looked over to his friend, Josh Bracken, the one whose hoarse voice he recognized had called him over.
Over the loud music, he shouted back in slurred speech “You want me to down this? I bet you fuckin’ spiked it you cunt!” Archibald took the shot from Josh’s hand, quickly downed it, and threw the empty cup onto the table.
Also wasted, Josh loudly retorted “Ha, you wish! Take that as a gift for your birthday. Now fuck off can’tcha see I’m trying to get laid over here!” He gesticulated wildly as he pointed his pale fingers over to two young women that looked as equally drunk as him with their arms around his waist.
Thinking to himself Archibald found himself even more disdainful of his so-called friend Josh than he had before the night began. “Yeah yeah, go fuck yourself as well bud.” He didn’t even bother to tell him that one of those girls was another so-called friend of his’s sister. He doubted Josh, the spindly motherfucker, would even care.
Looking around the club to get his bearings, Archibald took in the club setting trying to reorient himself. The blue and purple neon lights covered everything outside of the dance floor in a dreamy haze of light. Groups of people walked to and from the dancefloor, indistinctly visible under the haze. Strobe lights occasionally washed over his face and in his surroundings as dance music continued to reverberate entrancingly.
Looking into the dancefloor he saw a few of his “friends”, part of the group that he came to the club with to celebrate his 21st birthday.
“Fuck, what was I thinking. I don’t even like any of those second-gen douches.” Retracting his gaze from the dancefloor he finally spotted a bathroom near the back left corner of the club.
Stumbling between the booths and the other clubbers he had almost reached the bathroom before he heard a high-pitched voice call his name.
“Archibald!” Fighting to not let out a sign of utter annoyance he begrudgingly looked in the direction of who called him.
“Archibald I know ya see me! Get over here!” Looking at the tall blonde woman that was calling him he realized it was Isabella Ramirez. She was another of those that he came to the club with, and she was clearly far more wasted than he was.
“Fuuuuuuuuck,” Archibald mentally heaved a deep sigh. “I wonder If I can just ignore her.” About to walk away, he realized that she was stumbling over her heels walking toward him with some of her girlfriends in tow.
“Archibald, I know you see meeee!” She nearly squealed “Get over here, I’ve got something for the birthday boy!” she drawled.
“Alright! Alright, just stop squealing my name!” Archibald shouted back over the music. Waiting for her to approach, the ten or so feet between them seemed more like a mile watching her stumble over herself like a newborn calf. He contemplated if he should even give a show of being interested in her gift.
Finally, Isabella arrived with her two girlfriends in tow. He didn’t know their names, nor did he care to ask. Handing over her drink to one of her friends she dug through her purse and with her usually high-pitched and disingenuous valley girl accent she said in slurred speech “Here, enjoy!” as she shoved over a jello shot that she had just taken from her designer purse.
Archibald paused to digest the information that he had just been given yet another jello shot as a birthday gift. Hell, it was even the same blue raspberry flavor! He still lifelessly took it from her hand. “No way in hell am I downing this. Who keeps a jello shot in their purse in the first place?” He disdainfully thought to himself.
“Wow, thank you for the gift! I’ll be sure to enjoy it!” Archibald shouted in a disingenuous and sarcastic tone over the noise of the club. Either too drunk or indifferent enough to not catch his tone she responded in her usual grating voice “Good I’m off to the dance floor” She paused to take a sip of the drink that she had just gotten back from her friend. “Maybe you’d like to join me?” she asked in what she likely thought was a demure tone, but it just came off as far more slurred due to her heavy intoxication.
Taken aback by the abrupt flirt, he quickly shrugged it off. Pretending to not catch her intention he shouted his response over the noise of the music, “Sorry can’t do that right now, Josh just called me over. Said he had something to show me.” Before she could even respond he had already started to resume his journey to the bathroom. This time he was hell-bent on not being disturbed, his bladder damn near threatened to burst by now.
Luckily, he made it to the bathroom without further interruption. Stumbling in, the white light dazzled him for a second before he was able to adjust. Spotting the trash he threw away the jello shot given to him by Isabella along with his empty shot cup and made his way to a urinal where he could finally relieve himself. Finishing up he stumbled to the sink to wash his hands.
Looking up into the mirror Archibald saw a tall young man with short swept back black hair, solid brows, and gray eyes staring back at him. His facial muscles sat well on his angular chin and defined jawline and accentuated his proud nose. His usual serious-looking countenance was undermined by the alcohol flush staining his fair cheeks and his unfocused eyes.
“Looking good ay.” He mirthlessly chuckled to himself as he looked down and shook his head, not wanting to look his drunken self in the eye.
Finished with washing his hands Archibald stumbled towards the exit of the bathroom. Stepping out, he found himself walking over to a relatively secluded place where he took out his phone. On the opening screen, it read 11:37 pm on July 1st, 2022. Pausing he contemplated why he even decided to invite his college “friends” to this birthday outing in the first place.
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“Heh, maybe it was because I knew no one would be there waiting for me at home.” He deprecatingly concluded to himself as he pulled up the text that he got from his mother that concisely read “Happy birthday, won’t be there today.”
The funny thing is that his father said even less, only sending two words, “Happy birthday.”
Archibald was used to that though, he hadn’t celebrated a birthday with his family since he was 10. Hell, they were mostly absent. They were far too busy for family matters. After all, they had to further their fortune and they both held high positions in large firms. Often it seemed that his parents were married to their work instead of each other. His father in particular ran an investing firm, Alden & Associates, and his mother held a very high position at P&J Jordan Bank. How they even found time to conceive him was a mystery.
He couldn’t complain too much though, his parents' wealth had given him a very comfortable life, and had definitely helped him get into Marvard to study business.
“Damn, the number of hours I put into studying and extracurriculars. Waking up at 5 or 6:30 in the morning just to get ahead for all of my high school years in order to pursue a dream that’s not even mine…and it really just took a few words of possible donations from my father to basically guarantee my admission…Money really does talk…”
Shaken abruptly from his reverie by the dull throbbing of an oncoming headache. He slowly started the trudge across the club to the bar. “Fuck…I should get food and water in my system before this headache gets any worse.” He pinched his glabella. Checking the time again it read 11:42 pm. “I should get out of here soon” He hazily thought to himself.
Reaching the bar Archibald snagged the last empty seat at the far end of the bar and sloppily put up his hand and waited for the bartender to see him. Quickly enough the bartender noticed his hand and walked over.
“What can I get you?” The bartender asked in a flat voice.
“I’ll have a side of Cuban tacos and water.”
“Aye, I’ll put that on your tab then, that’ll be fifteen ninety-nine”
“No, I’ll pay upfront.” Rummaging through his pockets Archibald nearly dropped his wallet twice and eventually took out a twenty-dollar bill. “Here,” Archibald handed over the cash. “Keep the rest as a tip.” Pausing, Archibald tried to control his speech and asked “Do you know where I could get some fresh air around here, this club’s near the top floor. There’s got to be a rooftop.”
“Yeah, look behind you” Archibald rotated his body to look at where the bartender pointed “In the far right, near the back and past the booths, there’s a staircase that’ll lead right to the rooftop lounge.”
“Good to know.”
“I’ll be back with the tacos and water, should be ready in a few minutes”
“Mmm,” Archibald tersely acknowledged.
Sitting there, alone at the bar, Archibald found himself lost in his thoughts again. Thinking about nothing in particular, bathed in a haze of neon light he stared into nothingness. Occasionally, lights would sweep over Archibald's dazed face briefly illuminating the surroundings and dispelling the haze only for it to rush back in a tide of neon.
The music at some point in time had become slow and deep, each bass swell thumping in Archibald’s chest and head. In a haze, the music seemed to have faded, sounding like it was traveling through distant waters before it reached him and resounded in his mind.
Deliriously looking to his left Archibald saw a couple laughing. He was unable to hear them over the music, his hearing overwhelmed. Turning his head to the right Archibald saw booths, the people within them indiscernible, his vision too blurry to make out faces.
Soon even the music became overwhelmed by an increasingly high-pitched ringing. Archibald felt like a hammer was being repeatedly pounded on his head, his vision and hearing becoming increasingly distant like he was being separated from his body.
“Here are the tacos and water,” the bartender seemed to appear out of a black fog, outside of Archibald's sight and placed the food in front of Archibald.
“Hey,” the bartender loudly snapped his fingers in front of Archibald’s face. “You okay man, you’re paler than a ghost.”
Like he was brought out of a trance Archibald felt his vision and hearing abruptly return. His headache became a dull throb. The music and chatter poured over him in waves.
“Fuck…fuck,” Archibald paused and gathered his senses “I’m fine, just zoned out a bit.”
“Whatever you say.” The bartender gave Archibald a cursory glance and walked away to tend to other patrons.
“Wha-what was that?” He shakily paused, “I need to get fresh air now.” Temporarily putting his misgivings away Archibald quickly scarfed down the three tacos and downed the water.
With his headache a dull throb, Archibald rose from his bar stool and walked over to where the bartender pointed earlier. Walking through the booths and people made the trek a veritable maze in his drunken state.
Slowly walking up the neon-accented concrete steps and past the textured walls, Archibald reached the rooftop lounge. Looking up at the sky a handful of stars were visible. The usual Los Angeles smog, swept away by a small storm earlier in the evening, had left the concrete roof slick, reflecting the lights of the city onto the people standing on the lounge.
Feeling his headache increasing in pain suddenly Archibald quickly decided to lie down and try to tide over the worse of it. Looking around, he soon found a secluded lounge chair near the far left of the rooftop, away from the crowd of people near the wall of the roof.
“Just have to tide it over and sober up. I can’t appear like this in front of the others. Who knows what kind of sick rumors they would pass around behind my back.”
After waving down a server and requesting water, Archibald slowly walked past the crowd of people and arrived at the lounge chair where he promptly laid down and adjusted himself comfortably. For now, he was content staring at the night sky, contemplating how he ended up here, so wasted he could barely think straight.
“Look at those stars, so far away from all this, so free as they look down on all of us.” Not sure if it was the alcohol talking, “ What would it feel like to be free like them, so detached from everything.” He thought to himself, his eyes dazed and lids drooping.
“Your water, sir” A server suddenly appeared to the right of Archibald and gave him a glass of water before promptly leaving.
Feeling the pounding of his headache, Archibald drank a few gulps of water, and his half-shut gaze turned toward the condensation on the glass. Suddenly laughing quietly out loud to himself “Hell, I don’t even like business. How ironic is it that a business empire is at my feet and I don’t even want it.” Quickly calming himself from his spike in emotion he looked back toward the skies.
“I really don’t even know what I want. All I know is that all this,” Archibald waved his arms around him, not completely aware of his motions nor in control of his emotions, “My father's company, my parents' expectations, those meaningless connections with those shallow fucks downstairs. All for what? It all feels so empty sometimes. So meaningless.” Face twisted into a scowl he spat “In the end who cares If I'm rich if I’m not happy, who cares if I fail to meet the expectations of others, who cares if people disdain me! All that really matters is if I enjoyed life.”
Feeling his headache increase to a painful throb, Archibald quickly drank the rest of the water and set the glass on the floor to the left of the lounge chair. Gazing at the stars Archibald felt an overwhelming mix of emptiness and desire. With the absence of inhibition caused by the alcohol, he admitted to himself that he felt stuck. Doomed to live an unfulfilling life absent of freedom, chained to his parents' businesses and their expectations for him. Torn between laughter and tears he exclaimed out loud to himself “Fuck it! I want to wander among the stars. I want to be ambitious! How fucking crazy is that?!” Nearly weeping from laughter and the impossibility of his desires Archibald almost started shouting by the end of his alcohol fueled burst of emotion, uncaring of those that might hear him.
“I want more, I want-” Archibald was abruptly interrupted by a tearing pain that rippled across his skull in waves. Nearly falling off his chair Archibald grabbed his head and nearly screamed, the pain so intense that it left him immobile and speechless. The worst part was that the pain was quickly becoming worse. With his last strand of sanity Archibald briefly wondered if he was dying, if his brain had somehow hemorrhaged or something. Quickly even sane thoughts left him as the pain became so intense that rational thought became impossible.
Eyes wide open in pain, ethereal light briefly flashed illuminating his gray iris before his eyelids collapsed into the peaceful embrace of unconsciousness.