I sighed, finding myself in the last place I wanted to be. The movie theater was supposed to have been knocked down a year ago—it was falling apart. The faux velvet on the seats was ripped and the smell of burnt popcorn and cigarettes lingered in each showing room.
The people in the audience seemed content enough and so I shrugged. Starting to look for a seat I could plant myself in, I spotted a handful of people exiting the theater through a door by the screen. Just as the film started to play, I followed them out of total curiosity.
As I tailed behind one I asked, “Hey, where are we going?”
“To the party,” he replied.
We were led through a dark tunnel to a big room set up for some sort of concert or something, red and blue lights playing games on the ceiling and floor. A man came onto the stage, average-looking with extreme blue eyes and a smile that I recognized. I knew this man. No, I didn’t just know him. We were friends. We were good friends.
“Can I have my first guest on stage?”