Hailey was tipsy but not drunk. She had a pretty high alcohol tolerance, although she was feeling really lightheaded from all the dancing. She felt someone's gaze on her. She looked to her right and spotted a man with a beer in his hand leaning on the table by the bar. She suddenly felt extra self-conscious. She excused herself and broke away from her friends to go to the comfort room. The man followed. Her heart was pounding. She brisk-walked and hastily entered the girl's room, locking the door behind her. She pressed her ear to the door and kept her weight against it until she was sure the man was no longer behind it. Once she heard him walk away, she breathed a sigh of relief.
She slowly walked away from the door and faced the mirror. Her mascara was starting to transfer to her lower lash line so she took out her handkerchief and wiped away her panda eye bags. She removed what remained of her lipstick as well and reapplied. Her lips were a deep cherry red. All the dancing made her sweaty and she suddenly felt the discomfort. She grabbed a bunch of tissues and tried to dry herself with it as best as she could. While she was patting the paper towel on her exposed leg, someone suddenly rapped on the door, making her yelp from shock.
She scrambled in an attempt to look decent before anyone came in but no one did. Instead, someone slid a folded up piece of paper in the space between the door and the tiled bathroom floor. Curious, Hailey picked it up off the floor and inspected it. The paper wasn’t flimsy and it was scented. It smelled similar to the candle she had at home: oriental vanilla. It was neatly folded and there were no stains. She opened it and there written in red ink was a set of words that hardly made sense when put together. She read them aloud.
“Cataclysmic. Ubiquitous. Beatles. Ascending. Open.”
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