HAPPY NEW YEAR
- McQueen
- Jan 31
- 3 min read
The party had already peaked by the time I decided to leave.
That perfect electric moment had passed —
the countdown,
the kisses, the
clinking glasses,
the collective lie people tell themselves
that a new year changes everything
overnight.
It was fun though.
Music still pulsed through the house,
low enough to feel in my chest,
loud enough to keep secrets from surfacing.
Perfume and cologne mixed with champagne.
Laughter lingered in corners.
Shoes had come off.
Boundaries had loosened.
I danced & laughed.
I let myself be seen —
just enough.
I was ready to go now
Not tired.
Just complete.
That feeling you get when you’ve taken
what you came for
and anything more would be indulgence.
I grabbed my coat,
hugged the right people,
made the promises everyone makes
and never keeps.
Then I stepped outside.
The night was brisk…
Cold enough to wake me up.
The street was quiet
lights still blinking from windows that hadn’t slept yet.
I adjusted my coat.
Checked my phone.
That’s when it happened.
A pause.
A moment where the air shifted
like it noticed something I didn't
I felt IT
before I saw him.
Not staring.
Not approaching.
Just THE PRESENCE
He stood a few feet away,
leaning casually against a black luxury SUV
Clean lines.
No clutter.
Intentional.
He wasn’t on his phone.
Wasn’t rushing.
He looked like a man who had already arrived.
Our eyes met.
Slow.
Measured.
The kind of eye contact that feels accidental
until it lasts a second too long.
He smiled —
Just enough.
Like he knew something
I hadn’t figured out.
“Leaving early?”
His voice was calm.
Smooth without effort.
Low without forcing it.
I tilted my head slightly,
studying him without making it obvious.
“Well, it’s after midnight. I think that still counts.”
He nodded, like that answer pleased him.
“Smart,” he said.
“Most people don’t know when to exit.”
IDK If it was the statement or the voice
But my chest tightened just a little.
I smiled back,
polite but curious.
“You were inside?”
“For a moment,” he responded
“Crowds aren’t really my thing.”
Of course they aren’t.
He looked untouched by the chaos.
Crisp.
Spotless.
Like he’d passed through the party
without letting it leave a mark.
We stood there in the rhythm of the moment
No rush.
No awkwardness.
Just space.
“Happy New Year,” I said finally.
He looked at me
like he was deciding whether that applied yet.
“Happy New Year,”
“The interesting parts usually start
after everyone stops counting.”
I felt that settle low,
quiet and deliberate.
I laughed softly,
more to myself than him.
“Well, I hope it treats you well.”
“It already has,” he responded.
He didn’t look away when he said it.
A car horn sounded A door opened
As my world tried to resume.
I glanced at my phone,
then back at him.
“I should go,” and with a nod he replied
“I know,”
No disappointment.
No chase.
Just certainty.
I took a step back,
then another.
“D-Dr-Drive safe,” I stuttered
“I always do,” he smiled
Then, almost as an afterthought,
“See you soon.”
I paused.
Not because I believed him.
I wanted to ask how he knew
But I didn’t.
I turned, walked toward my car,
When I looked back,
he was already getting into his vehicle,
movements smooth, unhurried.
As he pulled away,
our eyes met one last time through the windshield.
No wave.
No gesture.
Just acknowledgement.
By the time I got into my car,
my heart was beating faster than it should’ve been.
Not from excitement.
But from the energy that had consumed me.
I sat there for a moment,
hands on the steering wheel,
the night suddenly louder than before.
I didn’t know his name.
Didn’t know anything
And yet…
Something had begun.
Not romance.
Not fantasy.
An Energy exchange that had filled the atmosphere.
As I pulled away from the curb,
one thought followed me into the new year:
Some meetings are accidents.
And some…
are invitations.
The finale drops exclusively on Spotify.
Spring 26
Love Conversations.
Comments