She walked to the bathroom, her bare feet silent on the hardwood. In the mirror, a stranger blinked back. The smoky eye shadow was now a bruise, the lipstick a faded wound. She looked older here, in the lonely fluorescence, than she had an hour ago under the strobes. She ran a washcloth under cold water and pressed it to her face. The makeup dissolved in grey, watery tears down the sink.
She pulled a blanket over her legs. The balloon drifted in a slow circle. And for the first time all night, Alina Lopez smiled—not for anyone else, but because the silence was finally hers. alina lopez after the party
She was alone.
That girl was already asleep.
Alina after the party. It wasn't a sad title. It was an honest one. She walked to the bathroom, her bare feet