Best Friend

As night falls at the birthday party, I continue to be the centre of attention. Deflated balloons and hushed conversations signal the near end of the event I had painstakingly planned and hosted, which I give myself a solid pat on the back for. This party scores at least a nine out of ten, I think to myself, grinning at the guests I roped in text by text, call by call. How could they not show up after hearing that it was my best friend’s birthday? He was turning twenty-one.

Let me help you visualise how awesome this party is. I planned for red balloons, red cake, and our schoolmates to show up in red, all because that is Aaron’s favourite colour. Everybody is in their best dresses and shirts, leaves presents for Aaron (as per my request, again), and tells me what a great party this all is. I smile humbly and say, “No, this is nothing at all!” like I’m supposed to, but deep down I know the best friend award goes to me.

The best part? Girls.

I make eye contact with a girl who averts her gaze with a slight smile on her lips. Her name is Reyna, and we hit it off instantly. We have all the same hobbies, music taste, sense of humour. I ask for her number because I assumed she would be too shy to do so, and she blushes in a way that makes my heart stutter. Her eyes go all big and she is at a loss for words at my request, definitely thinking that this is all too good to be true. After all, she came to this party celebrating Aaron, yet managed to strike gold with the charming host? It is her lucky day.

I give Reyna my most genuine smile, cooking up possible places I can bring her on dates in the future. I settle on, “Should we go somewhere quiet?”

She nods slowly. “How about you open the door, and we can get some fresh air while we decide where to go?”

“Oh. No.”

The talk about opening the door and getting fresh air whips me back to consciousness. As much as I want to leave this place with Reyna in my arms, I can’t forget about the main mission tonight.

I leave a very confused Reyna behind. With a party hat still on my head, its string choking me to death, I head to the bathroom. The mirror reflects my red dress shirt, with matching stains on my face, my hands, my arms. I turn to the side, and am reminded of the mess I need to clean up after everybody has left. Tedious best friend duties.

I start by washing the blood off my skin. I don’t bother about my shirt, it’s red anyway. I clean up the cold body lying in the bathtub the same way I cleaned up Aaron last year. Delicately, carefully, so as to not damage his pretty face. I even place the party hat onto his head to show that I care. Finally, I do the paperwork. I check his pockets for an ID, receipts, cards. I learn that his name is Tristan, born on 30th September, 2005. I check the date on my phone, and nod in approval at the ideal timeline, which gives me seven months to plan his birthday party.

I am sucked out of my flow when I hear a scream a few steps away. I glance up in the mirror. Reyna stands there, both hands covering her mouth, looking as if my tender loving care is the most grotesque thing she has ever seen, while I’m looking at her like she’s the most beautiful one at this party. She dashes off, almost losing her footing, and I can’t help but to chuckle at her clumsiness. How cute, I think, as I retrieve the phone she dropped. It was still unlocked in her messaging app.

we’re trapped, she typed to her friend two minutes ago, psycho isn’t opening the door, i’m here pretending to laugh at his jokes and everything so i don’t end up dead tonight.

I hold onto the phone as her friend comes online. She responds, he is insane, throwing a birthday party for someone who’s dead? expecting us to pretend like this isn’t weird at all?

Well, duh. This is why I rate the party a nine out of ten because, after all, what’s a birthday party without the birthday boy?

Feeling misunderstood, I call Reyna to clear things up and notify her that I have her phone. As it rings, I imagine this playing out as a meet-cute. She would be so grateful and indebted to me that she would inevitably fall in love. We would go somewhere quiet for the night, laughing at the same things, and I would ask her to be my girlfriend. A smile creeps onto my lips without my knowing, and my heartbeat speeds up in anticipation.

The number you have dialled is not in use.

I frown. Then, as I glanced to the phone wrapped in my other hand, it dawned on me. I have Reyna’s phone. And it did not ring. Now, that’s weird. She must’ve been too excited and typed in the wrong number.

I try hunting her down in the sea of bodies, realising now that having everybody dressing in the same colour had been a dumb decision. I walk pass two girls and smile at them as I catch their eye. “How’s the party?”

They smile back. “Great!”

I catch Reyna right as her hand lifts to turn the knob of the front door. “Reyna!” She jumps out of her skin. “I found your phone. Also, I tried calling it just now and it didn’t ring. Could you retype it again for me?”

She giggles, tapping her forehead. “Oh, silly me. Of course!”

I sigh in relief. I knew she didn’t mean to leave a false number. Why would she, to me of all people? I glance around the house as I wait for her to type with shaky fingers. I see people staring and averting their gazes, and for the first time, I make out what they have been whispering behind my back all night long.

Crazy guy… Last year he… Killer… Just now… Bathroom… Red… Another one… Must’ve been why… Scary…

I sigh, getting irritated at the content of their whispers. It gets old sometimes. Tonight was supposed to for Aaron, my best friend who should’ve turned twenty-one. All I have done for him, yet I continue to be the centre of attention. People just can’t stop talking about me.

“I’m planning a party for Tristan next February,” I say to Reyna, who’s so nervous she can’t look me in the eye. I bend down to her eye-level and smile. “He’s my best friend. You’ll be there, right? He's turning twenty-one.”