Antidote

Blaring music and flashing lights. Humid, sweaty air and cold night breezes.
Your day had been filled with these sorts of clichés. Bumping into people, spilling coffee on yourself and the other person, being late for work and running in with all your papers flying, annoying co-workers flirting endlessly, despite repeatedly rejecting them.
Your day had been filled with bit of everything. Rain and clouds, breezes that blew your shirt around, splashing in puddles with your shoes on. Then the sun was shining, casting a warm glow on the skin on everyone under it. It was shine through windows, lighting up rooms in houses, casting a shine on colors, making them brighter.
Dogs barking in a symphony, cats meowing at doors to get attention, babies giggling at the smallest, simplest things. Children laughing with their friends as they ran down streets, chasing each other and playing games.
Parents gathered with their friends, laughing as they drank assorted drinks, discussing politics and bragging about their children’s accomplishments, because that was what was most important about life, bragging to your friends and the people you didn’t like about all the things your child can do that theirs can’t.
Gossip was one of your town’s favorite things. Who was cheating on who, with whom? Who was having a baby, what was happening with the family down the street? Whose dog won the dog show and who was suspected to have cheated on their math test? Whispers were always floating around the block, changing all the time, nothing too bad sticking for more than twenty-four hours.

And then you evening had been filled with your friends. They had come over to your house, insisting that you had to go out with them to this bar down the street. You had been to this bar before, it was old and beat down, but it was still fun. You hadn’t intended on going out that night, in fact you were sitting on your couch, wearing sweatpants reading a book with some cookies. Then, they had come over, dragged you into your room and shoved a dress into your arms. You didn’t like it, not at all actually. Two factors played into you going to that bar that night. One simply being peer-pressure, two being that you didn’t really want to stay in that night. Deep down, you really didn’t. Everything during that day had been so mundane that you wished that something would change, that something would become interesting, because if nothing did, you would have to keep on living that mundane life and your genuinely didn’t want to.
So that’s how you found yourself where you were, sitting at a bar, not drinking anything yet, looking around to make sure your friends were okay. You had just sat down on the stool, not really paying attention to anything. A song was playing, blaring loudly, so loudly that you could feel the beat in your chest, rumbling so hard that it shook you.
There were people around you, dressed with way too much makeup, wearing clothes that you were sure couldn’t possibly be fashion. You’d always loved observing people, watching people do what they did, what they found natural was interesting. More than interesting. You could make up stories for people in your head, normal people became circus performers and adventurers and deep sea divers.
“What do you want?”
You looked over at the source of the voice. The bartender was looking at your with raised eyebrows.
“Um, I don’t know what’s good here. Club special?”
He nodded and turned around to face away from you. You looked around again, waiting patiently for your drink, keeping tabs on your friends, who were all dancing and having fun.
A drink was slid in front of your and you smiled at the bartender in your thanks. You took a sip of the drink, liking the taste and taking a deeper one.
Suddenly, the scene of the bar faded around you. The light started to disappear and the music got quieter. You looked around as the scene around you faded to white, the started to fade to color. But this time, it was different colors, more muted ones. Browns, mauves, deep purples.
And there was a person. It was the bartender, standing a different bar, wearing different clothing. He looked at you, a very serious face, his eyes were filled with deep thoughts and his face held a calculating look.
You looked out the window of the bar and saw, instead of the street, a darkness.
“This is the real world.”
Your head turned to him, staring at him with a confused look.
“Excuse me?”
“This is the real world.” His voice was serious and steady, but still sounded far away. “The world you’ve been living in is a fake reality. They’ve been injecting poison into your for years and I’ve just given you the temporary antidote.”
You stared for a few moments, unbelieving. But you looked outside again, then back inside and you looked around. For some reason, you believed it.
“Join the resistance?”