Oz Egemen

You pace the room, wondering If she already slipped away Leather jacket, collar high No idea when to hit the brakes Shades on inside, lights below Sweat on the walls, metal and glass Quit looking for something real Just let the moment pass She sneaks a smoke, knows the crowd Old friends, cheap drinks, borrowed laughs One look says come a little closer And your nerves don’t stand a chance Come on, come on, come on Before the feeling’s gone It’s not love, it’s just the rush The number one party anthem Flashbulbs pop, the night blurs out Black to color, then back again Hands up high, no names, no plans Just right now until it ends @Obessedwithhim🫧 (Based on song; No.1 Party anthem) #Oz's prepective The club flickers like it can’t decide what it wants to be. I’m standing there pretending I belong when a flash goes off. “Don’t move,” the photographer says. “You look like you’re waiting.” “For what?” I ask. He smiles. “Exactly.” Then I see her. Sunglasses inside. Leather jacket. Laughing like the night owes her something. “Who’s she?” I ask my friend. He shrugs. “Someone you won’t keep.” I find myself at the bar beside her. “You always wear sunglasses indoors?” I ask. “Only when I don’t plan on staying,” she says. “That makes two of us.” She glances at me. “You lying?” “Probably.”