The Story Man - Just Yanking Your Chain 4

>You pull up to the stoplight and watch the red dot with a smile on your face. It’s been some time since you’ve actually had free time to go to a party. With your internship taking up more of your free time, you’re thankful to have these few days off as your bosses travel to a meeting in some tropical resort.

>The smile morphs into a frown as you remember that you were stuck with the clerical work to prepare for their trip, which they rewarded with just a few days off instead of being invited to the resort. Still, you can’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

>As the light changes to green, you drive the car forward and try to remember the directions that you were given. As a little surprise for your girlfriend, you’ve decided to attend one of her parties. Due to work, you haven't been able to make it to any of them, but with the time off, you wanted to stop by. Thankfully, Fluttershy knew where her current gig is, and was happy to let you know.

>It was a year ago when you two first started dating when you would make the time to go out and do things. However, you couldn’t afford to do that anymore. With all the time you’ve been spending at work, Vinyl started complaining about you not being fun anymore and how you had not been attending her parties. Still, she’s stayed close for so long, any time that she brought it up, you feel guilty. Tonight you plan to make that all up.

>Turning the corner, you see a small duplex apartment with some lights of various colors flashing in the window. The outside of it is surrounded by cars, making it very difficult for you to find a good parking spot. Eventually you find one a couple feet away as someone pulls out.

>You chuckle to yourself as you turn off the car and get out. You walk towards the door while wondering if you could get her to let you play with her DJ stand a bit. She’s offered to let you come up on stage, enticing you with all the things you could do to her on stage, but you’ve always been too shy about it. You give yourself a deep breath, feeling confident, and decide you’d ask her this time.

>Once you get to the door, you open it up and head inside. If you remember correctly, this party was actually part of some promo for her remix album. You’ve never been much of a music buff, but you have to admit, Vinyl’s music is pretty great to dance to.

>Reaching the top of the stairs, you look about and watch the crowd. They shake and bounce in an almost mesmerising way along to the heavy base of the song. You can’t tell for sure, but it sounds like something Vinyl actually made herself, which isn’t too surprising given the reason for the event.

>Moving to the stage, you find someone else manning the stage. Some other woman is dancing behind the DJ equipment. You look around for where Vinyl might be before approaching the stage,waving to get the woman’s attention.

“Hey, where’s Vinyl Scratch?” you ask, trying to yell over the music.

> “What do you need her for?” the woman asks, removing the ear muffs from her head and resting them around her neck.

“I’m her boyfriend. Going to drop in and surprise her,” you say with a smile.

> “I thought you guys broke up” she replies, a confused look coming over her face.

“What? Who said that?” you reply, taken aback by the question.

> “No one, just haven’t seen you two together in forever,” she says with a shrug.

“Ah, no, I’ve just been stuck at my job,” you say, waving off the idea as relief flows over you.

> “Tell me about it. She’s upstairs in the first door on the right,” the woman replies with a jerk of her thumb behind her.

“Thank you!” you yell back up and give her a small nod.

>You laugh a little to yourself at the idea of Vinyl breaking up with you. As you head towards the directed doorway, you realize it’d be silly to end such a long term relationship without telling you. After all, Vinyl was pretty wild but she’s at least honest. If she wanted to break up with you, she’d do it to your face.

>A small memory comes back to a time when Vinyl got into an argument with someone at the music store. The two of them had to be hauled out for disturbing others. Thankfully, the loud music covers your private snickering as you reminisce.

>You reach the door and give one last look over the crowd. It’s actually very surprising how Vinyl accomplished all of this so quickly. When you two started dating, she barely had a few listeners and your circle of friends, but here she is, throwing a release party.

>Knocking on the door, you turn the knob and start to head in after making sure the crowd wasn’t peeking in incase Vinyl was changing.

“Hey Vinyl, guess--!” you start to say with a large grin.

>For an instant, the music seems to die out, along with the stream of colors from above you. The blare of the crowd turns into a white noise as your face morphs slowly from the cheerful grin into a grim expression, drained of life.

>Vinyl looks right at you, her hair slightly matted from some sweat and cheeks flushing a bright red. Her face goes from exasperated to pure shock, her voice catching on what might have been a moan.

>The guy she’s riding cowboy style also freezes.

>You look into her eyes, your brain recognizing the act she’s committing. Vinyl covers her breasts with one arm and falls over trying to scramble off of the man beneath her.

>Backing out of the room, you close the door and turn around to the crowd. The mesmerising dance seems almost mocking now. You head back into it as you head for the door, everything around you changing from the white noise of before into a painful ringing in your ears.

>Each step feels longer than the last, but you eventually reach the exit. The world seems to be a darker place now as a wave of emotion rears up inside you. It takes all the energy you have left just to keep from bursting into tears.

>As you exit the building and start off towards your car, you hear your name being called behind you. You don’t turn around, silently speeding up instead. The voice gets more insistent as you continue, but you try to block it out.

> “Just wait, dammit, let’s talk about this,” Vinyl calls after you as you reach your car.

>You get in and start it, gripping the steering wheel tightly while trying to contain a bundle of emotions waiting to rip out of your chest. Vinyl slamming her fist against the window makes you glance up to see she’s just in her underwear and a blanket.

> “Listen, just come back inside dude. You’re freaking out over something that isn’t a big deal, alright?” she tells you.

>Turning away from her, you feel yourself start to boil with rage. Instead of answering, you start the car and immediately pull out, causing a car behind you to honk. Vinyl continues to yell as you drive away.

>For a while, you don’t know where to go, so you just keep driving. The scene keeps playing out your head as tears try to force their way out of you. Some strange compulsion tries to force them away, but the memory soon presses them out.

>You park your car in an empty lot and lean onto the steering wheel as you let yourself pour out your sorrows onto it. The tears come in a steady drip as you heave your shoulders. For a while you just let them fall, but soon you start to frantically wipe at your nose with some spare napkins from the glove compartment. The energy left your body in a torrent and you feel yourself become more and more drained as it goes on.

>The scene plays out in your head again and again. Each time it does, you keep hearing Vinyl’s voice saying your name in an echo inside your head. You can’t think of anything else, the memory blocking out everything else around you.

>After a few minutes, you receive a text, and pull out your phone. The fact it’s from Vinyl makes you pause, but you unlock it anyways out of habit. The text is just short enough to keep from spilling over the screen.

“Anon, what you saw back there was just me being me, dude. I would’ve told you sooner, but you’ve been busy with work, and I’ve been busy with my music. If you stayed and talked, we might’ve been able to fix this, but you clearly want to just run. We’re done.”

>You stare at the message for a while, your mind apparently addicted to the horrible feeling it puts in your stomach. Inside your head, you try to make sense of everything but the more you think that the more the feelings eat you up.

>It’s a few minutes later that you drive to a liquor store and but a few bottles hard liquor. You don’t go for flavor, just the strongest stuff you can stomach. The cashier gives you a strange look, but you avoid eye contact with her. It takes just about every cent in your pocket to get the stuff, but you can’t care less.

>Getting in the car, you set them lazily down in the passenger seat and start the car. The tears have long since stopped at this point, but not the memory. Now every time you think of it, a little more anger slips into your head. By the time you’re home, the anger is directed at anything around you, but mostly at yourself.

>You slam the car door and pull out one of the bottles. You don’t even check to see what it is before you twist off the cap and let its contents pour into your gullet. After a few seconds, the familiar burn of vodka hits you. Wiping your lips and coughing, you pull the bag out and head up to your house.

>Even without the alcohol, the pure rage filling your head makes you fumble with the keys. After a few tries, you manage to unlock it, swinging the door open with exaggerated force. Storming inside, you continue to drink while you place the bag down on the counter.

>Noticing you forgot to close the door, you head over and slam it shut, trying to vent some anger out on the creaking hinges. As you do, however, you notice a picture on a nearby cabinet wobble. Walking over and picking it up, you see a picture of you and Vinyl.

>Back then, you had been dating for almost a year, so you decided to spend your vacation time going on a trip to some resort. You can barely remember the name now, too focused on the memories of playing with Vinyl at the beach. It was nothing but fun then, but the memory is agony to you now.

>You caress the picture with shaking hands until you notice a tear fall onto it. Wiping your face, you grip the frame harder, remembering the anger you felt before. Taking the picture with you, you return to the kitchen and take another long swig of the bottle from before. Every gulp burns its way down your throat, but you hardly care at this point.