He was sitting alone in a shadowy corner, with a few flirtatious women occasionally leaning in to whisper to him.
He didn't push them away, letting them rest their hands on his chest.
He swirled his drink with one hand, the other holding a cigarette with a glowing tip.
I tried to calm the storm brewing inside me.
He never used to smoke or drink. When did he pick up those habits?
He used to hate strangers touching him, saying it was dirty.
I bit my lip.
People really do change after all this time.
Suddenly, I remembered the woman who was with him at the hotel yesterday.
I knew I shouldn't feel anything for Eric anymore. After all, we broke up, and that's all there was to it.
Just as I was lost in thought, my best friend pulled me back.
"Sofia, if you keep zoning out, you'll end up drinking all the booze yourself."
It must have been Eric's presence, but I was having a streak of bad luck tonight.
I kept losing at games and kept drinking as a result.
During a break, I stumbled to the bathroom, my stomach in knots. I barely made it to the toilet before throwing up. I knew I looked a mess.
All the while, I had felt a pair of eyes on me, burning into my back.
But I couldn't bring myself to look.