The smell of smoke heavily wafted through the dark cafe, barely masking the faint stench of vomit and urine. This wasn't the most savory place for a woman of any type, but the roar of the crowds, the fights, the romantic touches in the dark - all too tempting for a curious girl like me. I had meant to stay no more than an hour, actually thinking I would be so repulsed and leaving within the minute. But here I am, every Friday night, breathing in the smoke and alcohol coming off of someone else's breath. It was always too hot, too cramped. The doors would barricade all exits for fresh air to come in. It was stifling in every way possible. And I loved it. It was so sickly sweet I could taste every emotion on my tongue. I never drank that much, only a glass or two. Despite the rambunctious crowds, the scantily clad girls, and every voice singing its heart out, this was not a joint meant for partying. It was a world within a world, it's only purpose being to shut out whatever life you wished to escape from. Whatever activities that may include - drinking, dancing, sex, whatever. I preferred to watch from the bar. I gazed into eyes that did not meet mine. I could see the longing and contentment replace every bit of hopelessness and despair. A man would laugh over a glass of whiskey. A woman would get lost in the music. A girl would lean into the chest of her lover, draping her head on their shoulder and reaching up to tenderly caress their face with her hand. I was once that girl. Sometimes, I still am. I was never one to enjoy one-time flings, but I reveled in the feeling of being held, of being safe. For once, I could forget my story and trick myself into believing I was living in another world entirely.