Sitting on the steps, the busy sounds of a metropolis and its many people provided an apt soundtrack to the thoughts ricocheting inside my head. Despising my stupid impulses, I wondered why I’d invited Katya out to Hood’s of all places. I went over the conversation continuously, finding better words and scripting an outcome that wouldn’t have brought such an abrupt end to the peace I was enjoying.

I’m good at thinking on my feet when I’m being nostalgic.

Frustration and anxiety pulsed through my body like venom. Since the phone call, I’d gone out and got a bottle of bourbon and a six-pack of beer. The beer had been devoured rapidly in the hopes it would mellow my feelings. It hadn’t. Instead, it had given them more credence and heightened my already frail emotions. I mentally listed the possible scenarios of the night, all of them ending with Katya offended. It wasn’t that Hood and Damo and the others that would be there were bad people, it was just that they weren’t Katya people. If they’d seen her singing the other night at the bar, they probably would’ve heckled her and yelled out ridiculous requests. They didn’t care for good music or art. They were more about sex, vandalism and alcohol. They had no social conscience and didn’t speak openly about their emotions. They just got drunk and had fun. Again, not a bad thing, just something I felt almost certain Katya wouldn’t take pleasure in.

The biggest issue at hand was the notion that Katya would judge me by the people I knew. She’d hear Damo’s constant swearing and see Hood’s reckless behaviour and think that everything she’d observed in me had been an act, carefully constructed to fool her into liking me. My imagination running wild through a jungle of pessimism, I cursed myself for having the friends I had. Their conduct, and the way I conducted myself when with them, was exactly what I decried about society. If I saw them as strangers in the street, I’d probably consider them wastes of space and move on. Instead, I befriended them and adapted myself to fit in with their ways. When partying with Hood and Damo, I was no longer Owen. I was a character composed to make myself popular.

A few metres away from me, leaning limply against a wall amongst cigarette buts and rubbish with glazed, lifeless eyes, was a junkie. I glanced at him intermittently, making sure he didn’t notice. I found it amazing that a person could be completely forgotten by the world and allowed to become what he had. I pitied him slightly, but more I was disgusted. I wondered why anyone would do heroin. I couldn’t think of anything more stupid than consuming yourself with an entity that could only do you harm. Sure, it might be an escape, but an escape can only lead to you being recaptured and put in a smaller cage. This man was the discarded garbage of the city, as anonymous and unimportant to the world as a prisoner or a mental patient. And yet, despite the magnitude of his problems, mine outweighed them. He’d be an afterthought soon, but my agony would last nightlong.

An influx of passengers exited the station and momentarily made my surroundings as crowded as my thoughts. I hoped desperately that Katya wasn’t one of them and, once they had all dispatched, it became apparent that she wasn’t.

Eyeing the night air above me, the stars eradicated by the light shining up at them, I conjured a new task for my brain. I began thinking of excuses for why Katya and I shouldn’t go to Hood’s party. Many possibilities availed themselves and I expected any of them would do. After all, Katya had originally wanted to do something else anyway. I was instantly hopeful and relieved, the alcohol within wildly transporting my emotions between extremes. The city seemed less stressful and the stars more accessible. I was on the up again when two warm hands covered my eyes from behind. I grinned, suspecting surely that the hands belonged to Katya.

“Guess who?” Her jubilant voice confirmed what I already knew. I played along with her game, feeling her hands tentatively with my own, as if searching for a clue.

“Um,” I started, “judging by the amount of hair on your hands, I’d say… Robin Williams?” Her touch rapidly evaporated before returning violently against the back of my head. I winced, the impact having been harder than she probably intended. Masking the soreness, I turned around and got to my feet. Katya beamed widely before enveloping me in a ferocious hug. Again I cringed, returning her gesture half-heartedly. The moment extended longer than expected, though she eventually released me.

We exchanged pleasantries and forgettable words before I put my suggestion to her.

“So, I was thinking, maybe we should go catch a band tonight. This party probably isn’t going to be very good.”

Katya seemed surprised for a moment, her brows furrowing. Though, in a split-second, her ecstatic grin was restored.

“No,” she shook her head, “I want to meet your friends.”

I was shocked.

“But, really,” I stammered, “it won’t be that good. The music there will be terrible.”

“Nonsense!” she responded and took my hand, “come on, let’s go.” With that, she led me into the station and forced my guidance to take us to the right platform. The moment was plowed on persistently, leaving me to catch up to it. I had no control over what was happening and the relief that had comforted me mere seconds ago was now as much an afterthought as the junkie. It seemed like no time passed before we were on the train, moving further away from my plans and closer to dreaded uncertainty.

Hood lived in Toorak, a generally rich suburb, though the court in which he resided was anything but lavish. It was a small, oval-shaped place with about twelve compact apartments and most of the people living there were transparently poor. The closer the train brought us, the smaller the place became in my mind.

As Katya watched absentmindedly out the window next to us, I began explaining to her the faults of my friends. I told her they were rude, obnoxious drunkards and that she wouldn’t get on with them. I told her that Sammi disliked most of them and that even I only saw them rarely. I told her anything I thought would change her mind, but she just continued staring feverishly out at the night around us, and I started to doubt she was even listening to me. Then she turned suddenly.

“If they’re such bad people, why do you call them ‘friends’?”

The question stopped me. I pondered it briefly before answering.

“Well… I guess they aren’t all bad. My mate Damo is a decent guy, and he was my friend when I didn’t have many. I don’t know. I just don’t want you to have a bad time and blame it on me.” I said honestly.

“Don’t worry. I won’t do either.” She replied before glancing out the window again, a cheeky smile making itself known.

As the train pulled into Toorak Station, I informed Katya that this was where we had to get off. Her attention, however, was fixed outward and it took a hard tap on the leg for her to turn to me. I grabbed her hand and pulled us both to our feet and off the train, leading her regretfully toward Hood’s. Exiting the station, we began walking through a well-lit alleyway that led to the court. Katya’s eyes, as we walked, scanned the lights either side of us in wonderment. She was like a moth, captivated and drawn to them. I didn’t like the way she was acting. It confused me and I wondered what the hell was going on. Trying to find an answer without asking, it suddenly dawned on me that maybe this was how Katya was normally. As much as it felt otherwise, I’d only known her a few days. Perhaps she’d just been doing around me what I did around my friends; playing a character. The thought honestly frightened me.

“Are you okay?” I asked, needing the notion to be repaired and the perfect image I’d had of her returned.

“What do you mean?” she responded, smiling.

“It’s just, you’ve been acting kinda strange.” As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them. I hoped desperately that she wouldn’t take them offensively.

“I’m fine.” She stated simply, still smiling. Her eyes burned into mine sincerely, supporting her reply. For a moment I thought there was something weird about them, but she looked away before I could discern exactly what. Pushing the doubts into the depths my mind, I made her words true.

When we entered the court, it felt like a vice took grip of my chest. The scenarios I’d imagined earlier came back as vivid flashes of a future reality. Despite Katya’s words, I knew that she’d judge me by my friends. I knew that this night was going to be a living hell.

We came to the door of Hood’s apartment. With eyes closed, I tried vehemently to calm myself. Whatever happens happens, I thought. It can’t be that bad. To overcome the music that pumped loudly from the dwelling, I knocked as hard as I could. As the door began to open, I looked to Katya with a resigned smile, searching for optimism. Somehow, she gave it to me.

It can’t be that bad, I thought. Whatever happens happens.