Beating the World

It's still a few days too early for New Years, but I got this idea really randomly, and I just couldn't let it fly away, so, early Happy New Years!

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It was New Year's Eve, the snow delicately twirling around in the navy skies, saying hello to the gleaming stars and the laughing moon, before landing safely on the blanketed roof-top of a house. The house was giving off a soft, warm, faded yellow glow, and if one stayed quiet, you could hear raucous laughter and loud cheers from a party echoing inside the house.

It was this party that 23 year old Mark was at, skirting around the huge salad of drunk, sober, nearly drunk, and barely sober guests, beer freshly taking from the ice box in hand. He, of course, was completely sober, considering he had only had one beer so far, and had a high alcohol tolerance level, and it was precisely this sober-ness that prompted him to maneuver through the massive throng of crazy, frolicking, hyper college students, college graduates, and just over all excited people, all to reach a familiar, extremely familiar, aloof face on the other side of the sea of jumping people. Somewhere behind him, a high pitched shriek sounded along with angry yelling as a girl beat her boyfriend in some sort of Wii game. 

Wincing as a clearly drunk classmate shouted something in his face and gave him a sloppy, badly aimed one arm hug, he dodged the few final people to reach his destination.

Raising an eyebrow along with the hand holding his beer in a queer greeting, he yelled over the blaring music (Did they really just change the song from his favorite to something by-who was it, ah right-Carly something, Jedi? He didn't care. He didn't like it) at the glaring girl, "Hey loner, long time no see!"

An annoyed frown flashed across the dark haired (Actually, not just dark haired, dark everything, from clothes to shoes) girl before she settled for sneering out, "For good reason too, loser."

Strangely enough, Mark just chuckled before leaning against the wall next to her and staring out at the crowd. (The number of sober people was significantly less than before he crossed the room. Had it really taken that long? Or were they just really good at getting drunk fast? Why did he even know half of these people...)

Taking a chug of his beer, he offhandedly commented, "God, , I missed your terrible sense of humor."

"And, god, Mark, I always hated you as a person over all," she slyly teased back, hiding a nostalgic, minuscule, just barely there smile behind her slender glass of red wine.

Barking out a short laugh after a roll of his eyes, he asked, "So how's Simone been?"

"Still an aggravating idiot," she muttered, blushing as she took yet another sip of her wine.

"Oh please, after what, 8 years, and you still put up that act? You're a hoot, Avery."

Avery began to blush more fiercely as she stammered out indignantly, "It's not an act! And no one says 'hoot' anymore! A-anyways, how's Nickie been? I haven't talked to her in months."

He laughed out, longer, and more heartily this time (Oh how this reminded him of the old days), before saying, "Flitting about,  worried, of course. Although, all her new dress orders really should be a good thing."

"She always was strange," she snorted.

"Oh? And what about you? What sort of high class wine is that, you snob?" he snickered, taking another gulp of cold beer.

Frowning, she twirled the wine around in the glass a bit before answering, "Merlot. I don't particularly like it, but," sighing, she continued, "I guess it's better than that beer. Makes people act like cavemen."

"Hey! Beer does not make people act like cavemen!" he shouted indignantly. Unfortunately, his point was pathetically cut off as, near the middle of the room, another familiar, too familiar, face leapt, no, grand jeté'd, into the air, shouting some drunken slur, and broke out into a terrible, ear shattering rendition of some ungodly song (no one could tell, to be honest, it was that off-tune).

"Whoohoo...! I-I can f-fly you guys! Look at me soar! I believe I can flyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!! La-la-ahhh-hahah! Butterflies!"

Mark's hand flew to his forehead without further instructions from his paralyzed in horror brain.  Avery began laughing, even crying tears, leaning against the wall with her arms, as she shouted out in glee, "No, not cavemen. Like Brad!"

"Brad always was a stupid idiot," he groaned, face lightly pink from his humiliating old friend.

By now, Avery had stopped choking on her laughter, and had instead settled for another sip of her wine and a triumphant smirk.

The clock clicked as another minute passed. It was only a few minutes from the next year.

Glancing at the clock, Avery sobered instantly, retaining her cold expression. Following her gaze, Mark sighed in melancholy. 

"So, yet another year flew by, hm. I wonder where our lives went," he hummed sadly, taking a small, tasteless drink of his no longer cold beer.

She gazed into her wine intensely, as though the swirling, sloshing color would tell her all the forgotten jokes, hazy summer days, and joyful laughter that made your stomach hurt.

She sighed as well, and whispered, "Don't we all want to know. Some days I look into the mirror and wonder if I'm doing the right things in this world."

Suddenly, as though her words had hit a trigger in him, Mark pushed off from the wall and swung around to face her, the condensation from his beer glass flying away into the crowd. 

"Don't say that! It's the New Years! It's time to look forward to a new page! You're doing the best you can, we all are. And we can be tomorrow's heroes, I'm sure!" he exclaimed, arms flailing in exaggeration.

Avery frowned. 

"You're drunk, Mark."

"No I'm not, and you and I both know that. It's true! We, we can be like the Avengers, or, or the Teen Titans! We can save the planet together, save the people! We can make a difference, Avery, as much as you don't want to believe it. You just need some confidence."

The crowd had all settled down behind them, and began to count down, staring fixedly at the small television screen.

10

"Mark, you're crazy. What can we do? The world's too big for just us to change it. We're not living in a fairy tale, idiot. This is reality. Grow up already," she snapped heatedly. Her glare had no power though. Instead, it was tired, so so tired of the world, already defeated by too many, too too many fights.

He smiled softly at her, "Maybe that's the problem, Avery. We all grew up too fast. We've all stopped believing. But, Avery, maybe we really can, and we've just given up too early."

9

8

7

She stopped glaring at him, and looked out at the jumble of limbs crouching around the couch in the living room in contemplation.

"I guess. Who knows."

"No one. That's what makes it an adventure."

She smiled and wondered under her breath, "An adventure? Like...like when we were kids?"

"Like we're kids again, except this time, it won't have to end once the sun sets past the purple hills," he murmured, grinning down at her."

6

5

4

3

"Come on," he said, tilting her remaining beer towards her. Seeing her blank stared at the green glass bottle, he laughed and said, "A toast silly."

She grinned, (for real this time, so happily, so joyfully, like she had when they stilled swung from the metal bars of the playground across the street), and laughed out, "A toast!"

2

"To us! And to changing the world!" he cheered happily over the noise of the rest of the party.

She grinned to the point her face could stretch no more, and exclaimed, "No, not to changing the world! This, this is a toast to beating it!"

He blinked, confused, before slowly grinning along with her, and shouted, "To us, and to beating the world!"

"Cheers!"

1

"Happy New Years!"

And was it a happy night indeed.