Twenty-five

 Clearly he was smashed again. It became a natural look on him. And by some unexplainable cruel magnetic fate, he saw me again. Maybe he has a sixth sense or maybe being forced to wear glittery hot pink furry sweater can trigger your senses to look. He grinned and swaggered towards me. The sea of people seemed to part to make way for him until he reaches few centimeters from my being. "I never knew you wear anything that isn't black."

"I don't."

Our faces were too close for my liking. I could smell the foulness of the alcohol inside his mouth so I pushed him hard until he stumbled and fell flat on his butt. I could hear collective gasps from people around us. That time I should've known I would be ambushed by rabid bald brained people.