N.Y.E.

“I thought it was my idea,” I say through the smoky haze. Seven of us sat around the table cards in hand.

“Why did you think that?” asks Lauren who sat at his 2’o’clock.

“Well, I had essentially invited myself to be apart of her New Year’s plans,” I say, noticing the looks of judgment, “She agreed to let me come with, said she’d be happy I was there”

—

-Earlier that evening-

Standing outside of the club, I waited for them to arrive. Her and two friends, they popped around the corner soon after I had checked my watch. I greeted them, got a hug from Yasmine. She looked beautiful in that green dress.

We sat, drank, talked, had a generally fantastic time. We listened to Pinut’s speech. It was a great time. Her friends constantly gave me the once over as I figured they should, I mean they are her best friends after all.

—

“Fuck you, they were not her friends. Just like Fuck You Dan!” Winston proclaims.

“Aww Fuck you, Winston, that the fucking Highest card in the game. Why would you do that?” Dan asks.

“To fuck you,” Winston says

“Eat a dick Winston,” Dan says picking up the Ace of Diamonds, changing his focus to me, “They probably weren’t her friends. I mean think about it.”

“Yeah, I get that now,” I say. “But they could’ve been. But I mean why would she want all that drama of having to explain what happened to me?… Unless.. I guess they probably knew either way.”

“But you were saying. You got blindsided and all that?” Edwin asks, putting a five on a three.

Getting back to my tale, “Oh yeah, cut to the end of the night after the fireworks, losing a friend to the unruly mob, and a lovely conversation on the walk back to mine.”

—

We were in my apartment; we lit some candles and talked for hours. She told me about her childhood, I told her about mine. We talked about politics. Times were beyond fantastic.

—

“Fuck you, Winston, that’s the second-best card in the game. Why?” I ask breaking my narration.

“Fuck you, so you don’t attack me. HA, HA,” Winston responds, his smile running from ear to ear. “Get to the good part anyway. This is boring part. Get to point. Climax. Well? Climax?… Did you?”

Looking him straight in the eye, “I didn’t and if you ask me again I’ll fuck you in your good eye,” I say.

“HAHA,” he laughs, “Good one. So you didn’t get laid got it. It’s ok, me neither,” Winston laughs.

“Well, of course, you died a virgin Winston,” Edwin adds.

“I didn’t die a virgin, I fucked your mom,” Winston lobs.

“Not possible, nope not possible, my mum died in childbirth. And you’re too young, you never could’ve fucked her,” Edwin huffs in his most posh native British accent.

“Soooo, am I gonna finish my story or no?” I ask. Winston goes to speak, shuts his mouth. I continue, “Fantastic. Now where was I? right, we were on the couch.”

—

She asked for a change of clothes. We hooked up a bit. Clothes started to come off. Yasmine turns, I think she’s reaching for a condom in her purse.

“I’ve got some in my nightstand if you can’t find yours,” I said.

“Oh, no, I’ve got it. Plus” Yasmine turns around with it still behind her back and kisses me back down onto the couch. Pulling away she added, “You don’t have one of these.”

I only saw the knife for a second before It was on my throat but it wasn’t that big, but it was definitely sharp.

My skin scraped against the blade when I asked, “Why are you doing this? Who hired you? And why?”

You know all she said was, “You had kind eyes.” Then boom she cuts my fucking throat. I bleed out to the image of her petting the cat still asleep on the piano as she walked out of my room.

—

“That’s some cold shit man,” Dan says watching Winston defend himself with an Ace. “Almost as cold as this,” he says putting down the Ace of Diamonds.

“Fuck you. No, I don’t take it,” Winston says.

“Suck it up! You lose Winston.” Lauren says.

“Eat a dick, Winston,” Spike adds.

I sigh, “It’s nice to know even though I died, Well we all did. But the important thing is that Winston still loses,” finishing with a laugh that spread to the crowd.

As the laughter dies, I ask looking out the wall-sized front window at the family making dumplings across the hutong, “So who’s up for Dumplings? Granted, do we even need to eat food in purgatory?”