I hadn't been intending to attend an old friend's Halloween party this week, but it just so happened that I was travelling through his town - well, city really; it has a cathedral - the weekend he was throwing it.
It would be good to see him again, even if it wasn't my intent. I had last spent significant time with him in my teens, only catching him for fleeting drinks here and there in the intervening years. I travel a lot for my work, and it makes it hard to keep lasting friendships.
I wouldn't know anyone else there, but in my line of work, you had a lot of practice with small talk and keeping shallow conversation going. I had been called 'charismatic' by a few producers, and even 'charming' by more than a handful of women: enough so that I almost started to believe it myself, no matter the awkward, gangly, pimply, kid I still saw myself as.
It had been a long time since I had been that kid though, I had to remind myself. I wasn't old yet, but I wasn't the kind of 'young' that people mean when they say 'young'. The schoolfriends I kept in touch with had families, and they fed me stories about some of our wilder peers even having grandkids now, and we're only in our thirties!
It wasn't just age, though, that had changed. Although I had the 'nerd' aesthetic down to a tee, I didn't have the brains you associate with it. I barely got out of a vocational college and didn't even attempt uni. It was after college that I had decided I needed to change.
I found that people's perceptions of me were more important than any qualification or skill that I had. People I met in college who were dumb as a bag of rocks walked into well-paying jobs because they were handsome and dressed well. A couple of years of hard work proved that point to me. I got the first job I could, spent all my money on going to the gym, buying clothes tailored to me, getting proper haircuts, and travel.
I learned to drive, but before I had a car, I would cycle, walk, ride trains and catch buses wherever I could. I began to drop into pubs, bars, clubs, museums, galleries, and any public venue where it wouldn't seem too weird to have a stranger start talking to you. I talked to people. Looking back on it, I was right to be too embarrassed to do it in my hometown, because those first few months would have made me a social pariah.
But, over time, I learned.
The travel, even from inconsequential journeys to local towns and cities, broadened my experiences and showed me more than I had seen in life up until that point. As I started seeing my skinny arms painfully slowly inflate, I gained confidence. I realised that I could talk absolute bollocks, but if I was confident, people would
mostly
accept it.
And with all my travelling, I started reading to pass the time. While working out for hours a week, I started listening to all sorts of music, and even audiobooks that one of my mates burnt into some kind a file and shoved on my iPod.
Anyway, I digress. Seeing old friends makes me nostalgic.
I was here on business: meeting a lady in a hotel in the centre of the t-... the
city
. We would have some fun, take some videos together, and I would see if she was interested in working with a producer. If not, we'd both have some new content anyway, and I just wouldn't get a commissioning fee.
Her
friend
had booked and paid for my hotel. It was mine for the whole weekend, but I wasn't seeing her until Saturday evening, so I had Friday to myself. I was planning to hit the local pubs for a bit, before getting an early night in preparation for an early run the next day, but happened to bump into my old friend on the way to check in.
I knew he had moved here, but hadn't expected to hear from him, let alone even see him. I think it was my look of shock that caught his attention, as he almost walked straight past me.
Our conversation was brief.
"Stan?" I stuttered, words falling out of my mouth without my permission.
"Huh?" The man looked at me in confusion for just a second, until his eyes seemed to focus, widen and then his face lit up with a beam. "Oh my god! Liam? I always forget!"
"Forget?" I tilted my head but was caught off guard as he pulled me into an awkward embrace.
In my youth, I was lanky and gangly. My early adulthood had filled me out, and years of eating well and exercising had done wonders, making me 'tall' rather than 'lanky'. Stan, however, was not tall, and his embrace almost caused the top of his head to crack into my chin, until I managed to veer away.
"You know, the changes, Liam! It's good to see you! I'm in a bit of a hurry now, but are you staying here?" He eyed the hotel doors.
I debated whether to tell him, but something made me nod, "Yeah, here tonight."
Stan's grin split his face from side to side, and he had to push his glasses back into place as he spoke.
"Come to mine tonight! Emma- well, we're having a Halloween get together tonight. You've met Emma, right? Anyway, it would be great to see you there, it's mostly her friends, so it would be great to have backup. Do you still have the same numb- what am I talking about, of course you do, we talked a few weeks ago!"
I was amazed how much he had seemingly managed to say in a single breath, so it took me until he gave me a quizzical look, to respond.
"Yeah," I accepted, once again betrayed by my own words.
He beamed again, "Great! Get a costume, obviously, but I'll text you the details! Oh, it's so good to see you, Liam."
"You too," I said, as he turned abruptly and hurried along the street.
There's my world-renowned charm at play. What was that? Maybe five confused words to one of my oldest, if distant, friends.
He reminded me the wizard from the Wonderful Wizard of Oz as he flounced down the street. I'm not sure entirely why - maybe just that he was short, not quite slim, and balding, maybe the way he seemed to react to everything with an almost childlike wonder, or maybe I just had some memories mixed up in my mind and he was just a jolly fellow.
So, it seems his girlfriend, Emma, had organised this party, but Stan seemed happy enough to go along with it. It wouldn't hurt for me to go; it
was
the weekend before Halloween, so I should probably do something. I could always say I've got an early meeting or something.
Emma. I had met her a couple of times during my fleeting catchups with Stan over the last couple of years. They seemed good together: Stan had grown up from a nerd into a pretty average guy with a good job, and Emma seemed pretty average from the little I'd seen her. I thought she had straight, mousy, hair that probably reached midway down her back, with hazel eyes, freckles, and glasses. She wore kind of frumpy clothes; not baggy, but not flattering and kind of boyish. She never seemed particularly friendly when we spoke, often seeming distant and even sometimes a bit meek.
By the time I had checked in, Stan had already sent me a paragraph of text about what time the party started, where it was, who was going to be there, and what to wear. The last part concerned me the most.
I'd spent a lot of time in the States over the last few years, and their Halloween was a spectacle. If I was back there and looking for a costume on the Friday before the big night, then I would pretty much be shit out of luck. Well, in my limited experience, which was, frankly, fairly limited.
I put it out of my mind as I surveyed my room. It was more than decent. It was a room, not a suite, but a big one. The bed was soft and luxurious, the fridge had a good selection of spirits, and the bathroom was separated from the bed by a strange pseudo-room with a closet and desk, with essential kettle, coffee machine and selection of drinks. The two bedside tables and console below where the TV hung on the wall would be fine positions for the camera, and if my lady friend's
friend
decided he had to come, then there would be enough room for him to hold the camera or get out of the way in the pseudo-room.
I'd have to let her know that I had arrived and approved of the job they'd done with picking this room.
I had a few hours to kill; I wouldn't arrive at the party until it was well underway. A group of middle-aged kitchen standers wasn't my crowd, but at least they'd be a bit more fun once they had some drink in them. Assuming they were drinking and not just there for the houmous and carrot sticks. So, I went to the hotel bar.
***
