Drapery

Her hair thoughtfully played in the wind while her legs carried the rest of her across the crowded balcony. The breeze tugged at her black cardigan and she thought about him, more than she wanted to, wishing the wind had his fingertips, or carried his scent. The doors to the balcony were swung wide open, and the off-white drapes flapped around, filling the party with a soothing sound that carried through the room and down the hall to the elevators. She pushed through the faces and made her way back inside. She loved being outside, but she was chain-smoking and she knew exactly why. Everyone admired the dress under her sweater, making motions and passing comments as she slowly moved past them. They all told her how beautiful she looked, and how she should feel beautiful in such a dress. She wanted to feel as glamourous as they painted her out to be, but he wasn't there, so she had no reason to. In fact, she felt invisible. She felt like she was drowning in false flattery and cheap attempts to be made a plaything, and all she wanted was to be alone. She followed the sound of the curtains down the hall to the elevators, and called for one. 

The sign was pretty clear, but she didn't care. She lit her cigarette anyway, blowing smoke rings at every floor she passed. She was tired. Tired of the bullshit hotel wall colors, tired of the bullshit people that passed themselves off as loving friends. She was tired of the over-lit rooms and the perfect we-just-cleaned-this smell. She was tired of keycards, and tired of her dress, tired of the shoes and makeup that she would never use again. She was tired of the lifeless night, and how the party sucked the beauty right out of the sky. Most of all, she was tired of pretending that she didn't care; pretending that she would never grow tired of her facade. She walked out of the elevator, leaving her smoke behind, and hastily made her way to her room, throwing her heels halfway down the hall. She slid the keycard in the door and missed sex instantly. The door slammed closed behind her; the bent keycard at the foot of its frame. she picked up the phone and waited for it to ring, she didn't even have time to listen for a dial tone.

"Hello?"

"I love you."

"Hey! What time is it there?"

"Can you come home?"

"...okay. I'll wake you up for breakfast in the morning."