3. What In The Mamma Mia?! #2
Then Andre raised his glass. “Well, if modern dating is depressing, I vote we stop talking about it.”
Andi lifted her glass too.
“It’s James’ birthday,” Mel followed.
“To James,” Andi said.
“To healing,” Honey added.
“And to more bad decisions in life,” Andi said, that earned another burst of laughter.
But not from me.
Even though I was surrounded with everything I needed—and the people who loved me—I still couldn’t help feeling alone.
Then, somewhere between the wine and the conversation, something inside my chest shifted.
The conversation about Victor opened something up.
At first it was small—just a quiet heaviness pressing behind my ribs.
Then it sank quickly and deeper.
The room blurred slightly. And before I could even stop it, tears slipped down my face.
No warning.
No dramatic prelude.
Everyone noticed immediately.
“James…” Mel said softly.
I wiped my cheek, embarrassed. “Sorry. I don’t even know why I’m—”
But my voice cracked.
Great. Now I was crying on my own birthday.
“God, this is so pathetic!” I inhaled shakily and laughed weakly.
“It’s not pathetic,” Honey said gently, reaching for my hand.
But once the tears started, the words came spilling out.
“I miss him,” I admitted.
My throat tightened.
“And I hate the part of me still expected him to remember today.”
Silence settled around the table.
“And now I can’t even listen to Taylor Swift without crying. Even ‘Shake It Off’ sounds terribly sad!”
A pained sob escaped me.
“I know everyone thinks he’s terrible,” I continued. “But I still miss him. I miss talking to him every day. I miss the way he would randomly call me at night. The stupid jokes. God! I miss everything!”
No one interrupted.
“And the worst part is,” I said, shaking my head, “I keep thinking maybe it’s my fault.”
Andi frowned immediately. “James—”
“No, listen,” I insisted. “What if I ruined it? What if I pushed him too hard? What if I should’ve just kept my mouth shut? I. AM. A. WRECK.”
Silence settled around the table.
“I keep thinking if I could just turn back time… maybe I’d do everything differently.”
My chest tightened at this thought.
“I wish there was a guide to surviving this… this tragedy!” I said out loud.
When I looked up, I noticed my friends exchanging knowing glances.
Yeah—that was how worried they were for me.
“Enough,” Andre declared, his voice careful but firm. “We’re going out tonight.”
I blinked at him. “What?”
“We’re going out,” he repeated.
“No,” I said immediately. “No, we’re not.”
“Yes, we are.”
“Why?” I groaned. “I don’t want to go anywhere. I’m perfectly happy staying here with you guys.”
Andi shook her head. “James, you just had a full emotional breakdown.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Which means I should stay home.”
Honey crossed her arms. “That’s not how this works.”
Mel nodded hesitantly. “You need to get out of this apartment.”
I gestured around the room. “Everything I love is already here.”
Andi raised an eyebrow. “Including your sadness?”
“Wow,” I muttered.
Andre leaned forward, resting his hands on the table.
“Listen,” he said. “You’re heartbroken. That sucks. But the worst thing you can do right now is sit here all night thinking about that guy.”
I sighed.
Honey pointed toward the door. “So we’re dragging you out.”
“James,” Andi said, her eyes both worried and pleading, “tonight isn’t forgetting about him. It’s about reminding you that your life didn’t end with him.”
The room went quiet again.
I stared at my wine glass.
Then I finally sighed.
“Fine,” I muttered.
Andi shot up from her chair like she had just won the lottery. “OMG! He said yes!”
Andre pumped his fist and stood up. “Let’s go.”
Honey grabbed her purse from the counter. “We’re celebrating this birthday properly.”
Mel walked over and helped me stand. Her hands were gentle, almost cautious.
She looked at me with worried eyes. But there was something else in there too. Something I couldn’t quite place.
“Come on,” she said softly.
I sighed again. “Okay.”
So we went out that night.
And I had no idea that saying yes was about to reopen three chapters of my past.
Bario Club was already alive when we arrived.
The bass of the music pulsed through the building like a second heartbeat, vibrating through the floor the moment we stepped inside.
Colored lights flickered across the crowd—red, violet, blue, pink—washing over bodies that moved together in restless rhythm.
The air smelled like perfume, sweat, and liquor. It felt like the entire city had decided to show up in one place.
Andre led the way through the crowd like a man who had done this a thousand times before.
When we reached the VIP section, a server immediately appeared and guided us to a small couch overlooking the dance floor.
From above, the club looked like controlled chaos.
Lights spinning.
Glasses clinking.
Bodies moving in waves.
And for the first time that night, my problems felt… small.
“Okay!” Andi clapped her hands once as we sat down. “Birthday rules.”
Mel groaned. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Too bad,” Andi said as the server placed six shot glasses neatly in a row and a metal bucket that held the liquor. “No more talking about… you know. Just us and this.”
Tequila.
Honey leaned closer to inspect them and gasped dramatically. “Oh, we’re starting strong tonight.”
Andi picked up one of the glasses and raised it in the air.
“To James!”
Everyone grabbed a shot.
“To James!” Andre repeated.
“To healing!” Honey added.
“And to forgetting men who deserves to be forgotten!” Mel finished.
They all looked at me, waiting for my toast speech.
“To bad decisions!” I said.
Glasses clinked.
Then we all drank.
The tequila burned all the way down my throat.
“See?” Andi said proudly. “Therapy.”
Mel laughed nervously. “I’m not sure tequila counts as therapy.”
“Anything that helps you forget the guy who hurt you counts as therapy,” Honey declared.
Andre poured another round from the tequila bottle… then another… then another.
And somewhere between the music, the alcohol, and my friends yelling over the noise, the heaviness in my chest slowly disappeared.
My body relaxed.
My thoughts blurred.
After the fifth shot, I leaned back against the couch and stared down at the dance floor below.
Bodies moved like a single organism under the flashing lights.
The music throbbed in my chest. And then—
Moments later, I was dancing in the middle of the dance floor.
Honey dragged me there, of course. She was already performing like the dance floor belonged to her.
Her arms flailed in the air. Her shoulders rolled sensually. Her hips swung wildly.
Full camp performance.
I burst out laughing.
“You’re insane!” I shouted, my vision spinning, my heart light.
“Dance!” she shouted over the music.
And I did. The tequila worked fast. The rhythm of the Bruno Mars song carried me along with the crowd. The music swallowed everything—the thoughts, the sadness, the memories.
Honey spun dramatically beside me.
I laughed again.
For the first time in weeks, I wasn’t thinking about Victor.
I was just dancing.
Eventually, Honey and I staggered back to the VIP section.
My friends were exactly where we left them, lounging on the couch and watching the dance floor like responsible adults observing a zoo.
“You guys are missing out!” I announced, slightly out of breath.
Andre raised an eyebrow. “You’re drunk.”
“I’m happy,” I corrected. “Isn’t this what you wanted for me?”
“Yeah,” Andi nodded. “But you’re very drunk.”
“You should all go dance,” I insisted, pointing dramatically toward the crowd below. “Seriously. Life is happening down there.”
Mel laughed. “Look at you! Tequila and suddenly you’re a motivational speaker.”
“I’m serious!” I said.
Honey smirked. “You’re too adorable when you’re intoxicated. Can’t blame those guys downstairs staring longingly at you, wondering what that juicy ass tastes like.”
Everyone swooned.