13 March

They didn't want to go. It was just another party. Work people were just work people. But for some reason they felt obligated. So they went.

She was up for anything that night. Just looking to enjoy some champagne and friendly faces. That was all. That was really all. 

The apartment was crowded. The air was soaked with perspiration and beer. They went in. 

She opened her champagne. It was time to loosen up.

"I'm not looking for new friends." She thought. But why not make the best of it. 

There was a bean bag. She sat on it. She and the champagne and the bean bag. She watched. 

The voices blended together. The faces of those who wanted to leave and those who couldn't leave if they wanted to. Alcohol does that sometimes. 

She and the champagne and the bean bag. 

Everyone wore green. She wore green. A pale green. He wore dark green. 

He had caught her eye. A familiar face. A resemblance. 

He walked by. She stared. The champagne had begun to make her mind fuzzy. Fuzzy enough to keep her staring even when their eyes met. Accidentally. 

"You look like that guy. The guy from that show. Did you know that?" She rambled. She didn't notice. If he did, she couldn't tell. 

He slid down the wall to sit level with her. She and the champagne and the bean bag. And now him. 

"Yeah, I get that sometimes." She should've known. Of course he did. 

He held a bottle. Probably Bud Lite but she didn't pay special attention to that. She was focused on the hands. And the eyes. How could someone forget those eyes?

They talked for 20 minutes. She thought he was interesting. He was interesting. 

His friends were leaving so he did too. But not before he asked for her phone number. The champagne recited the number to him and he took it. 

Before he left the apartment he sent the text. "Chet."

Little did she know. Little did they know.