Humans is powered by Vocal creators. You support Elijah Taylor by reading, sharing and tipping stories... more

Humans is powered by Vocal.
Vocal is a platform that provides storytelling tools and engaged communities for writers, musicians, filmmakers, podcasters, and other creators to get discovered and fund their creativity.

How does Vocal work?
Creators share their stories on Vocal’s communities. In return, creators earn money when they are tipped and when their stories are read.

How do I join Vocal?
Vocal welcomes creators of all shapes and sizes. Join for free and start creating.

To learn more about Vocal, visit our resources.

Show less

A Night Out

Something Everyone Needs

I start the day by doing everything like I normally would, with an ice bath and doing some stretches. Today and tomorrow are my only days off and I'm looking forward to relaxing and having a fun time tonight. Usually, I typically spend around 20-30 minutes each day practicing with training knives/sais in order to keep my reflexes at their peak. I've also started studying French in order to grow my mind as well.

During the afternoon,  I'm doing crunches when I decide to go to the nearby coffee shop. Upon my arrival, I notice that it is reasonably dead. There are only a handful of patrons in the café and two barista workers. I place my order and while I'm waiting, one of the male baristas starts up a conversation.

"What makes you get iced coffee on a day like this?" He asks as he gestures to the wind rocking the trees violently.

"I like cold drinks." My reply was cold and unemotional. 

I was surprised. Perhaps it's to do with the fact that I don't have any friends, so I'm not used to human contact. I thought he was attractive and wanted to continue the conversation after an awkward pause.

"Sorry. That sounded a lot colder than I meant it to. I'm just pretty drained and with the weather and all..."

"It's all good. I totally understand. So I take it that you're just spending this day relaxing?"

"Yeah. I think I actually might go out clubbing tonight to let off some steam. I've been kinda pent up lately."

"Oh, nice! That sounds fun. Me and a few buddies of mine were going to hit up The Marquee around tenish. So maybe we’ll run into each other?"

"Yeah, maybe if I feel like going to that one. A lot of clubs it's kinda a hit or miss with how the atmosphere is. Too many people ruins the mood and not enough won't allow you to maintain the energy needed to club properly."

"Well, I hope I do see you," he hands me my drink and I nod at him and exit the shop.

When I get home, I immediately look up the club and its traffic history. I'm slightly nervous until I remember the invention of Uber and pregaming. I do 10 sets of crunches, sit-ups, and push-ups to calm down and take a cold shower.

After I get out, I start to ponder what the night is going to look like. Being well-organized and machine-like, I usually find myself trying to plan/process the days like a chess game. With each piece advancing with each move being more strategical than the last.

I start to get ready for the club. I order an Uber and smoke a joint. I take two shots and enter the vehicle. The ride is strange and the lights flash and daze. Upon arrival at the club, the bouncer frisks and asks for ID. He shines a flashlight on it to detect whether or not it's a fake and after a few moments, he lets me in.

Upon entry, the speakers shake the floor, the lights shift and change. It's crowded but not unbearable. I try and find the barista from earlier to no avail, so I just head to the bar where I order an apple martini. After a few minutes, the barista and his group of drunk friends arrive at the bar, he recognizes me, and calls me by my order.

"I'm surprised you remember that, you must have had what twenty or more customers after me."

"Not really, it was a pretty slow day."

"Makes sense. These your friends?"

"Yeah. That's Logan, Victor, and Charlie."

"Nice to meet you guys, I'm Elliot."

"Careful with this one, Elliot. Holden is a bit of a lush when he is drunk."

"Aren't we all?"

The bartender gives me my drink and the rest of the group order.

"You want me to get you another drink?" Holden asks.

"No I'm good, thanks. I already pregamed and I just feel like coasting for the night. If I drink too much too quickly, I get...unpredictable."

"Understandable."

"Let's dance!"

The group takes me by the arm and we go to the middle of the dance floor. Once we are there, we start to let the music take over and we feel our bodies move and sway. Holden starts to get closer to me and I feel something in me shift. I pull him closer by his hair and expose his neck slightly. I lick his neck and whisper inaudible sweet nothings in his ear.

I turn around and start to dance and grind on him. We dance together for a few minutes before I start to feel like not myself. I abandon the group for a short while. I retreat back to the bar and order a Jaeger bomb. After consuming that drink, I return back to the group.

"Hey, I have party favors by the way. If anyone wants any." Victor pulls out a small dime bag that has five pills of Molly in them. He hands each one of us a pill and we take them without hesitation.

Several minutes later, the effects start to hit and the music starts to sound better and each move we make feels euphoric. Every swing creates this breeze that makes the hair on our arms stand up. Holden grabs me and we start to dance. The song changes to something slower and more seductive.

We dance for several minutes before deciding to leave together. He orders an Uber and we decide to head back to my place. The whole ride we couldn't keep our hands off of each other. When we arrive, I try and unlock my door with my keys but my hand keeps freezing. Every molecule of my fingertip feels every groove and notch as well as the coolness of the keys, and it feels like time itself slows down.

I finally unlock the door and we head inside. 

"Nice place you got here."

"Thanks, rent is a little much, but it's worth it."

"Well, at least you have plenty of room. My flat is a bit packed between the four of us."

"Yeah, I can imagine."

"What do you feel like doing?"

"I dunno... you tell me." He gets closer and I feel a sense of arousal but distance.

I pull out two Cold Steele training rubber combat knives and hand one to him.

"What the fuck is this?" He exclaims.

"A training knife. This is what I do for fun/exercise."

"Are you sure? What if I'm better at this than you think?"

"Then it will just mean I have a worthy partner."

I  slide my leg and cause him to fall. I climb on top of him and push the training knife lightly into his shoulder. He does this pelvis throw reversal where he pushes me off using the strength of his hips, while gripping my shoulders and he places his knife at my throat.

"How's that for a rookie?"

"I'm impressed. I yield."

He puts his knife away and helps me up. We go to the kitchen and I fix a sandwich. 

"Do you want me to make you one too?"

"Sure."

As I'm making it I watch him scan the room. I see his nervousness, like he's used to constantly fidgeting.

"Make yourself comfortable," I add to try and make him feel more at home.

After I'm finished making the sandwiches, I give him his and we eat and chat. 

"How long have you lived here?" I ask.

"In the city? A couple of years. I moved from Wisconsin a few years back. Very farm like and different, I like the city more," he pauses for a moment.

"And you? How long have you lived here?" He asks.

"Just shy of a year. I moved a short while ago, just time to move to the next stage of my life, ya know? When you need to just make that next step."

"Yeah, everyone has that point where they just have to make the next move."

"It just hit that point and I needed to advance."

"So now you just practice with training knives and shit?"

"I mean, that and study French."

"Why French?"

"It's a language I've always wanted to learn. I like to keep my mind as sharp as my body. They say learning a second language has multiple benefits. Plus, personal growth should never be seen as something bad."

"How many times a day do you practice?"

"About twenty minutes or so per day."

"Can you speak it?"

"Umm...sure. I dunno how good I am, I've only just started."

I advance towards him, turn his head, and get close to his ear.

"La formation était amusante." [Training was fun.]

"Je voudrais le refaire un jour." [I'd like to do it again sometime.]

"Je pense que tu es plutôt chouette." [I think you're pretty neat.]

I can sense he feels a bit nervous so I retreat.

"Sorry," I state as I look at him looking dumbfounded.

"No, it's alright I just. I have no idea what you said."

"In short, I said that training was fun and I'd like to do it again. I think you're pretty cool."

"Do you not have sparring partners?"

"No. I usually train alone. Partners require intimacy."

"I don't think that's always the case."

"It is. You can't spar with someone and not have intimacy. The reason being is every training session you have to have a goal. If your goal is growth, which is most likely, then you will be training in order to block your opponent's strikes as well as advancing your own swiftness of your own strikes. But it's an art; a dance. You have to be in sync which causes you to be on the same wavelength. You develop a sense of deeper connection, it's inevitable."

"That's really...wow."

"Deep?"

"Yeah."

"That's what I love about it. Most people see the surface of it and view it as just training like one would working out. It's more than that though. It's a way of letting your mind and body move and flow in a way that causes you to express how you feel. There's a dancing element in it that is subtle and underrated."

"That's beautiful."

"Everyone has some hobby that they focus on or view as a way of expression that helps them better themselves in one way or another. Mine just happens to be involving tools that can be used in a defensive or offensive manner."

The rest of the night we just stay up talking about our hobbies and goals and such. It was a really well needed night out that couldn't have had a better ending.

Now Reading
A Night Out
Read Next
6 Ways to Lose Your Black Card