Fragment #3 - Halloween party

I got a call yesterday from Steven. Maybe I shouldn't have answered, but I did. He asked me if I wanted to come to his Halloween party on Thursday. I thought this could be a fun and casual way to see him again, as I haven't seen him since I left Glasgow in May. So here I am, picking up an outfit from Claire's wardrobe. She loves fancy dressing, and she has been in every Halloween party she could since she was a teenager. She will miss that one though, she is working at the bar tonight, for the special Halloween night. So I'm going on my own, and got the choice amongst several outfits she has been keeping. So I've got the choice between fairy, sexy French maid – I am not that sure she has been wearing that one at a party... but nothing impossible at those fancy dressed parties – or the school uniform... This one would definitely be inappropriate for a teacher. So fairy it is...
I get dressed, put my make up on, and finally straighten my hair: I am ready for my Glaswegian party. Then I need a taxi, because I don’t want to be going down the street to catch the bus wearing wee sparkling wings and a very short silvery blue dress. So I call a taxi. And soon I am at Steven's place, in the City Center. He is still a post-grad student at Strathclyde University, and so hopefully this will be a big student party. A very casual party, lot of beer, not much talking... This is weird I don't want to talk that much, considering I actually want to know why he wants to see me. I ring the bell, someone let me in, and this is the flat on the third floor. Of course it is, I know this place quite well, and I fell bad, something's hurting inside my chest. I shouldn't have come. But then already I'm on the third floor, someone is opening the door, and here he is, Steven. Tall, dark hair, blue eyes, nice, cute... Might he be the reason why I left Glasgow in May? Something is hurting and I think I might have been missing him more than I say. But one drink after another there is just nothing more in my mind, everything is fine. This is a big party and Halloween parties are always funny. You've got those cave men over there, rugby men from uni, very nice guys (and yes, so hot as well). There is a French maid, a Marilyn Monroe, and this girl over there is wearing something strange, maybe a dress from the twenties? And that guy is a pirate or just a drunk man? And just as expected, Steven is wearing the perfect fancy dress, very classy suit from the nineteenth century: a perfect character from a Jane Austen's book. We haven't talked for the whole night. It's almost midnight. I should just go. I'm looking for my jacket, my phone in one hand, ready to call a taxi. I enter Steven's room. We left all our stuff on his bed. I take mine, and when I'm leaving, I run into him.
“Hey Amy you're not leaving now? I haven't seen you yet tonight, we've got so much to catch up, you just can't leave.”
“You're so busy with your guests, maybe another day you know, it really doesn't matter.”
“Yes it does. You know what, I'm leaving the place to Marco, you know Marco, my new flatmate? He can deal with the party. Let's go to some place nice, you remember the school of art? Let's go there, it's not far, let's walk over there.”
And then I am walking down a dark and damp street, wearing a fairy outfit. My feet hurt, I am wearing Claire's high heels, to fit the Glasgow style, but my poor feet are killing me now, I just prefer my usual trainers. Steven isn't talking that much, so I'm now trying to avoid awkward silences, talking about the school, the pupils, the anecdotes and even the dirty things we learn at school about people. This is the way it used to be. It's not the first time I have the feeling I am talking for us both. I remember why I finally had to let it go. Maybe I'm not in the right place right now, the both of us going to a club we used to go since our first date. A club depending from the very famous Glasgow school of Art, the one designed by Mackintosh, Glasgow's most famous architect and designer, pretending to be the Scottish GaudÌ... Well to be true, the School he designed looks good. Big grey building, stunning black-iron gates, large windows: it looks both like a factory and a piece of art. It just matches Glasgow roughness so well. Some say Glasgow isn't a pretty city. I don't think so. I like those impressive blocks of flats, red and grey stone, these industrial places, the cranes you can see near Glasgow city center or the docks, in Govan or on the Clyde banks. We've been silent for a few minutes. The club is there, a big house, almost black, standing in the middle of a square of grass, facing the school. The party is raging inside, it looks like a big house, like an American union house. People look both very drunk and very high, it's late tonight and some of them are fancy dressed like me: it just looks crazier than ever. We go to the first bar, Steven offers me a drink, the music is so loud we can't speak and I feel he is relieved. I look away. And then, out of nowhere, while I'm drinking my gin an' tonic, he is pulling my arm, getting me out of the room, out of the club. He says we really have to talk. That he needs me. That he realized when I left Glasgow how much he needed me. That I am back is a sign for him, that he wants me back. And I am stunned. I quite understand he might have been waiting for a while to tell me so. Maybe he has been rehearing in front of his looking-glass, just like he does for his uni speeches. I think this is good. I try and think, but I've been having a few drinks now, everything is blurred. I did it, he wants me back, this is good isn't it? But after six month of a hectic relationship, six other months as perfect strangers, can we go back together? I don't know. For god's sake, he is waiting for an answer, he just said he loves me and I am THINKING. I am the worst person ever... “You know what is your problem? You're too selfish.” And he leaves me. It starts raining. I want to cry. But I don't. After a while starring at the place he just left, I decide to go away, back home. The street would be gloomy if there wasn't the noise of all those people partying. Go to hell, how much can I hate happiness sometimes. I shiver. I am freezing. I call a black cab. I tell the taxi driver where to go. He starts driving. And I start crying. Life sucks.