The Party

Absolutely everything matters. What you wear, how your hair looks, what you drink, how you dance. Even what brand of cigarette you smoke will reflect your standing. That’s how people are going to judge you. On everything. Well, perhaps not quite everything. What you say or who you are isn’t important. No one’s going to remember that the next day anyway. No, in this game it’s who you appear to be that matters.

When Louis caught sight of him, Archie was wearing a blue and white chequered keffiyeh round his neck.  Louis wondered if he knew it was the symbol of pro-Palestinian nationalism and anti-Zionism around the world, and considered asking him, but knowing Archie he’d just give him a weird look and tell him to shut the fuck up. Archie had coupled untied Nike trainers and a low-riding grey tracksuit with a black duffle coat, giving a look of studied carelessness, which was clearly what he wanted.  He was walking through the harsh white light spilling from a shop window when he saw Louis, and he grinned widely and strolled up, holding his right hand out towards his friend.  Louis did the same, and they executed a sort of awkward manoeuvre which was a combination of high-five and handshake.  Formalities exchanged, Archie shoved his hand into his pocket without saying a word, pulled out an iPhone and handed it to Louis.  There was a photo on the screen, clearly taken from someone’s Facebook page, of three smiling girls standing in the sea. It appeared to be somewhere Mediterranean, with brilliant blue skies and a narrow brown beach covered in equally bronzed bodies. The girls smiled contentedly, oblivious to the fact that they were under examination. Archie pointed to the middle figure.

“That’s her.  The one next to her is mine, but you should totally get with her.  Unless you want the fat one.” He laughed loudly, brushing his curly blond hair out of his face.  “It’s her party, but there will be others there as well.  And if it’s shit then we can just go to the park and get wasted or something.  Though I would kinda like to get laid tonight either way.” He laughed again, and Louis smiled back. He turned his attention to Louis’ bag.  “So anyway. What did you bring?”

He pulled out the neck of a litre bottle of Smirnoff from the bag and Archie nodded his approval.  “Looks good.  We can always pick up more if we need to; just don’t let anyone else drink it except us, okay?”

His phone rang. “Alright? Yeah mate, we’re both here. Where are you? Ok. Ok, right. Yeah. ‘Kay, see you in a moment.” He hung up and turned back to me. “Ollie’s on his way.”

“Right.” They stood in silence for a moment, in the stark light amid anonymous passers-by on High Street Kensington, and with nothing better to do they both looked around for Ollie. When he appeared a minute later he too was wearing tracksuit bottoms, with a hoodie. He exchanged the same greetings to Archie as Louis had done, but with more finesse, and then turned to Louis himself. Louis gave him a small wave, which he grabbed and used to pull the other boy into an embrace. Ollie smelt strongly of deodorant, as if he had just sprayed copious amounts of it onto his coat.

“Alright Louis? Been a while, eh? You’ve changed, man. Like, a lot!” He looked at him with bloodshot eyes and laughed loudly. He stood for a moment, swaying slightly, then laughed again.

“Jesus.” Archie now had a Marlboro in his mouth, and he grinned through the smoke. “How much have you had?” Ollie remained as he was, staring. Archie laughed again and repeated his question as if talking to a young child, emphasising each word. “Ollie. How much weed have you had?”

“A few tokes,” Ollie replied, snapping out of his daze, “but I didn’t roll it especially strong.” Suddenly he looked a little serious. “Why, does it show? I don’t want to get arrested.”

“It’s fine. Your eyes are a bit red but just avoid eye contact with people and you’ll be ok.” Archie now offered them each one of his Marlboros, and they accepted. Louis lit up and tried not to inhale too much.

         After a couple of cigarettes they set off, getting on the Circle Line northbound. Archie sat with his sports bag on the seat beside him, feet wide apart, reclining on the seat. Ollie did the same opposite him, and Louis stood holding on to the rail in between them, looking down. The three of them talked excitedly, catching up on what they’d been up to since last half term, when they had gone out together in the same way. It was mostly the usual; football, teachers, and girls. Louis was aware of the rest of the carriage either listening in or looking straight at them, but he didn’t mind. Loud and foul-mouthed as they were, he felt happy to be back with his oldest friends, the guys he had been through prep school with. He had known Archie even longer than that, since nursery, and their parents were old friends. For as long as he could remember, they had been going on holiday together, whether it was skiing at Archie’s chalet in Zermatt or swimming off the beaches of Sicily. He looked more closely at Archie, who had rolled up his coat sleeves to reveal numerous wristbands from festivals and gigs, as well as a chunky Swiss watch. He had changed a lot since they moved to different schools, but then so had everyone, Louis reflected. He looked down at his own hands, unadorned and boring. He supposed it was just part of growing up. He drifted back into the conversation.

“So anyway, you guys aren’t really meant to be here at all,” Archie was saying, “but Bex’s an old friend and her parents aren’t in, so even if she does say no, there’s nothing stopping you just climbing in a window or something.” Ollie nodded, as if he didn’t really care either way, but Louis was slightly worried.

They got off at Notting Hill Gate, and Archie went to buy more cigarettes while Ollie looked up the address on his Blackberry. Louis looked around. He felt out of place standing on the filthy pavement, trying to avoid eye contact with the strangers walking past. For a moment, he wished he was back at home watching TV, but he could hardly change his mind about the party now, and he reminded himself that he always felt apprehensive before going out with Archie. Instead, he made himself take another couple of drags of the vodka.

He watched a group of young men walk past, fascinated but trying not to attract attention to himself. One of them in particular caught his eye. He was wearing a Burberry baseball cap and a clearly fake Abercrombie and Fitch hoodie, but with torn jeans and grubby Converse All Stars on his feet. Louis never really understood who these people thought they were fooling. It was similar to when his friends wore dirty tracksuits and trainers. They may well dress like that, but it didn’t change the fact that they went to the most expensive private schools in the country and had parents who earned six-figure sums. It was all pretence, like most fashion trends. Fake. He was watching the young man fiddling with a gold stud earring when Ollie looked up from his phone.

“I’ve found it, but it’s like two kilometres away. I think we have to walk.”

“Ok,” replied Louis neutrally, “that sounds fine.”

Ollie went back to his phone. Probably to avoid having to make conversation, thought Louis, and he was thankful for it. He had never especially liked Ollie, who was by far Archie’s friend rather than his. He was never serious about anything, and he was, in Louis’ opinion, incredibly chauvinistic. Many a time had Louis almost confronted Ollie over an off-hand comment made about a girl he was friends with, but he knew it would be awkward for Archie if he did and so he let it go. Other than that, he didn’t like the fact that Ollie did so many drugs. He had almost never seen him when he hadn’t been doing something illicit, and it got on his nerves. Louis was quite strongly opposed to drugs, thinking about where his money would ultimately be going if he bought them, but he had never raised this issue, because he was quite sure Archie would soon stop inviting him to these parties if he did.

When Archie got back, they walked on, leaving the high street for a quieter residential area. They walked quickly, passing the bottle between them and joking animatedly. Ollie stumbled a couple of times and Louis laughed at him. They walked three abreast over the wide pavement and a young woman with a pram crossed to the other side as they approached. Archie sniggered and wolf whistled as they passed. The three boys turned a corner and started up a gentle hill. As they traversed it, the gang of youths he had seen earlier walked back along the other side of the street in the opposite direction. An unspoken instinct suddenly made them quieten down. As the two groups passed, there was a shout from the other side of the road. Louis felt his stomach turn, and silently hoped it was just a coincidence. A moment later, he heard it again, and he looked over his shoulder at the gang. They were crossing the street behind them now, walking swiftly and confidently. The interest Louis had shown in their clothes earlier was gone, as they now displayed a brutal and intimidating anonymity, a pack of black and grey shapes closing in on them menacingly. Louis started walking faster and the others followed. As the gang behind them got closer, Archie rolled his eyes.

“Fuck this,” he said casually, but his breathing gave him away. “Let’s go.”

He sprinted off and Ollie was behind him in an instant. Louis started running too, his face burning with humiliation as he clutched the bottle, trying not to spill the alcohol, while at the same time putting as much distance between himself and the gang as possible. He heard a burst of harsh laughter, and looked over his shoulder briefly to catch sight of the men whistling and gesturing, but they weren’t in pursuit. They turned and walked the other way, still laughing mockingly.

He caught up with the other two a hundred metres later and they walked on in silence. They were all going over the episode again and again, Louis knew, but no one mentioned it. The tense silence was finally broken when Ollie cleared his throat and motioned to a large house down a side street.

“This is it.” Louis heard a deep bass sound pumping out of an open top floor window. His stomach lurched again, but now he felt unusually keen to get into the house for this party. They downed the last drops of the Smirnoff between them, and then walked up to the door.

“I think you’re going to enjoy this,” Archie said. He looked as if he was about to continue, then thought better of it and walked up the steps in front of the house to knock on the huge door. A girl answered it. She held a bottle of whisky in one hand and a cigarette in the other, and peered at them suspiciously. Archie smiled and pushed past her, and Louis and Ollie followed. The girl shrugged and closed the door, drinking deeply from the bottle.

The two things that hit Louis first were the noise and the heat. For a large house, it was unusually hot. The music came from up a flight of stairs in front of him, and he followed Archie up. They entered a room full of people and a girl shrieked in delight, running as fast as she could in her heels to hug Archie. Louis recognised her from the photo he had seen earlier. Archie grinned and kissed her on the cheek. They talked for a moment, but Louis couldn’t hear what they were saying over the music. Instead, he looked round the room. It was a fairly typical party. There was a small throng of people in the centre of the carpet, dancing to the bass-heavy music that pounded from iPod speakers in the corner. A small group of three or four clustered round the speakers, all jostling politely to put on their own music after the next song. There was a balcony at one end of the room, and outside were more boys and girls smoking and talking round a small table. On every surface in the room stood beer cans, opened then forgotten about. Among these were scattered a few empty bottle of spirits and cigarette cartons. There was a smashed up birthday cake with a couple of slices gouged out of it, and some crisps and other food was scattered around. Louis guessed there must have been about fifty people in the house, and with the amount of alcohol that was around, they were probably quite drunk already.

“This is Louis, and this is Ollie.” Louis spun around at hearing his name, as Archie introduced his friends. He was standing there already with his arm around the girl and a beer in his hand. Louis was in awe of him as usual. “This is Bex, guys.”

Bex interrupted him. “And this is my friend Ellie.” Louis recognised the second girl; the one that Archie had designated him. She gave a small wave, smiling awkwardly. She was wearing a leather jacket and was probably boiling in it. She was tall, and her miniskirt was very short, thought Louis, and under that she was wearing tights with holes in them and a pair of impossibly shiny Doc Martens. He was impressed at Archie’s choice. He looked back at Bex and found her smiling at him knowingly. Then he turned to Ollie, who was sipping a beer and looking intently at Ellie. Louis bit his lip. Things could potentially get problematic.

Archie went off to greet someone else he knew, and Bex melted back into the throng of people in the room, laughing and chatting. The new acquaintances were left to talk. After a moment’s hesitation, it was Ellie who spoke.

“I like your t-shirt. Where did you get it?”

Louis looked down and pulled the corners of the t-shirt out so she could get a better look. “A friend of mine made it, actually. He’s trying to start up a business doing it, and this was one of the first batch.”

“It’s a cool design,” she replied.

“It’s a bit amateur though, really, isn’t it? I mean, who’s going to pay ten quid for that?” Ollie drawled through a mouthful of beer. Ellie glanced at him without saying anything then looked back at Louis.

“It’s different, at least,” Louis offered, trying to be genial. “Like, when people come in in mufti at school, they all look the same, in my opinion. Even if some people don’t like it, at least it’s not the same Jack Wills lumberjack shirt that literally everyone else will be wearing.”

Ellie nodded. “So true. Could I have some of your vodka?” He handed it to her. Before he could say anything, she took three long gulps, finishing the bottle. She winced at the taste and wiped her mouth. “God, that’s disgusting. It works though.” She stood still for a moment. “But yeah, it’s a cool t-shirt.” She turned and joined the dancing group, which was still moving as energetically as ever.

Louis left the room and searched the floor for a bathroom. Finding one, he gripped the sides of the sink in both hands and looked into the mirror. His hair, usually so neat, looked slightly bedraggled and his face was flushed. Peering more closely, he saw bags under his eyes. He grinned at himself and walked to the toilet, swaying slightly. It was going well, he thought to himself, and he would beat Ollie to it easily. He washed his hands and dried them on his jeans. As he walked out onto the landing, he almost knocked into the third girl who Archie had shown him in the picture.  She spun round on him and grabbed him in a bear hug.

“Louis! It’s been ages!” She smiled at him through a piece of chewing gum. “How have you been?”

Louis looked at her as closely as he could without giving away the fact that he was trying to remember who she was. She was wearing a lot of make-up and a shapeless black dress which was nonetheless far more revealing than he would have liked. Her dyed hair was a dark red, and straightened artificially. Long nails painted black did little to enhance her short fingers, he thought. As she spoke she reached out and touched his arm, which he gently tried to prise out of her reach. He played for time, searching for a name.

“Yeah, not too bad, thanks. How are you?”

“I’m fine... Wow... It really has been a while, hasn’t it?”

Evidently, thought Louis, if I don’t know who you are. He looked around for Archie or Bex, but found neither.

She continued: “When did I last see you? I think it was like, a year ago, at that party.”

Not hugely helpful, thought Louis irritably, but he took a stab in the dark. “In Chelsea?”

“That was it!” She was beaming, staring him directly in the eye. Louis looked away.

“Ah, well, we really must do that again sometime.” He paused and looked at her left hand, which was clutching a bundle of notes. “You going on a booze run?”

She nodded. “Yeah, we were just going down the road to get some more. You should come.” As she spoke she motioned to an equally forgettable friend behind her. Louis looked from one to the other and shook his head.

“Nah, I can’t really be bothered, you know. Plus I don’t have any I.D.” They both knew this was very unlikely to be true, but before she could suggest he make sure by looking through his wallet, Louis handed her a crumpled five-pound note. “But could you get me some rum or something?”

Her smile became apprehensive, and much less warm, with this rejection.

“Sure,” she said, and stalked down the stairs to the front door.

Louis exhaled deeply, then coughed. That had been slightly close, but he wasn’t going to ruin his chances so easily. He had at least got some more alcohol out of it, he reflected, and grinned. He went back into the music room.

The pounding bass was still going strong, beating a rhythm in the bottom of his stomach. He slipped through the room, looking around for familiar faces. He cast a glance down the side table for something to eat, and his gaze came to rest on the cake. Moving closer, he examined it. Someone had stuck ten cigarettes into the top of it like candles, and had obviously started to set them alight before giving up. Now, other than the slices already removed, the cake was iced with a fine layer of grey ash. Louis let out a short laugh. These people were mad! They must be very drunk, he thought to himself amusedly.

He walked back through the tight throng of dancers and found Bex and Archie in the centre of the floor. One of them pulled him in and started dancing around him and on him. He laughed again and shook his head.

“I’m not drunk enough yet,” he said over the incredible noise. Archie moved close to his ear and Louis leant in to hear him.

“Get in there!” he shouted. They both laughed and Archie nudged him forward. Then Louis saw what he meant, catching sight of Ollie and Ellie dancing in front of the speakers. They were both holding new cans of beer, and Louis moved into the group to dance with them.

He started dancing between the two of them, and soon found himself obstructing Ollie’s path to dance with the girl. Smiling, he turned his back on him and motioned to Ellie’s beer. She handed it to him, and he took a couple of sips. Handing it back, he moved closer to her. More people had arrived at the party, and the room was packed now. Dancing frenetically in front of the large subwoofers it felt as if the whole house was pulsing as one, gyrating and lurching about. He felt hotter than he had ever been, and they both drank some more. Their eyes met once or twice and they half-laughed embarrassedly. When the song finished a few people shouted out requests, and someone near the iPod put on a heavy rap song. They danced more slowly to the never-failing, unchanging beat. Ollie was nowhere to be seen. Probably going to score some more weed, Louis imagined, and snorted contemptuously. He reached again for Ellie’s beer and in the same movement put his arm around her shoulders. She didn’t look at him but took hold of his hand and fell backwards onto a nearby sofa. Louis followed suit and they sprawled side by side, watching the people in the room.

The dancing was becoming frenzied now. The music had changed and was now screaming out, violently fast. Fists punched the air, feet bounced manically and bottles smashed. Someone ran out of the room, crying. Several boys had their shirts off and in the corner two were almost coming to blows. Louis saw Archie and Bex locked together in the middle of the commotion, oblivious to everyone else. A vague notion of respect ran through Louis’ mind. The girl whose name he still couldn’t remember returned and handed out volumes of alcohol to all. Someone turned the music up. He was still holding Ellie’s hand on the sofa. It felt cold and slightly damp. He turned to her, was about to ask her if she was okay, but saw that she had done the same. He exhaled suddenly and sharply, amused. She shifted slightly, and moved a little closer. Louis could see every detail of her face now. He found himself looking at her cheeks, her nose, her chin. Her lips. He could see every pore in immense detail, and every brush mark of mascara. He saw make up caked over her face, and lipstick smeared onto her thin lips. He looked away from them, into her eyes. They stared back, glassy and unfocussed.

Suddenly Louis didn’t want to do it any more, because it was wrong and he couldn’t think properly, and neither could she, but he had to and he couldn’t stop. He smelt alcohol on her breath, and when it happened her mouth was cold and tasted of vodka. Her lips were sticky with lipstick and her tongue was slimy. He pulled back and she looked up at him, smiling weakly.

Around them, the party went on. The intense heat, the throbbing room. Some paired off, finding a quiet spot out of the way of the noise and the sweltering temperature. Others couldn’t handle it and ran for the bathroom. Some stayed dancing until morning.  Others passed out on the floor. The party wouldn’t stop for anything, and it was all still important – the hair, the drinks, the dancing. And the cigarettes. Everything mattered. Almost everything.