It was late, exceptionally so, considering that it was a Tuesday night. It was 11:30 pm when I reached the house. A few of my friends suggested the place as an escape, a way to forget things that best ought to be forgotten. They were concerned because after it happened, I hadn’t had my usual zeal for life. They said that I never smiled anymore - I told them it was just a new perspective. The house glowed in stark contrast to the cloudy atmosphere - the bright, scintillating lights scattering my view and the bombastic music sending a jolt up my nerves. I confess it had been almost a year since I attended an event like this, so my senses were a little overwhelmed. I knocked on the door and was received by the host. He was a unique individual, dressed in an ostentatious suit, with a large amount of makeup on his face and a wide, never-ending smile.

I did what I usually did at these types of events and found myself a nice, cozy corner to watch from. People were smiling and dancing, the majority of them severely drunk. The host seemed to be the only one not fully intoxicated, yet his movements were the most unrestrained. I watched him for nearly 2 hours - the man was always grinning, smiling, going around and engaging his audience. He radiated an unfading joy. Some part of me envied it. Here seemed to be a man untouched by the outside world, by the realities of life. I wondered if such a zeal for living was even possible. It was in these thoughts that I lost track of time. It was nearly 2 am when I regained my cognizance.

The clouds had burst, and the heavy sounds of rain surrounded me. The music had stopped, the lights were dimmed, and not a soul was in sight. The house, covered in party decor and food, seemed strangely hollow.

On my way out, I caught a glimpse of the host sitting outside by himself. His makeup had melted off, and his signature smile was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his face was contorted into a melancholy expression, his back slumped against the glass door, and his head dripping. He looked utterly exhausted, perhaps from the partying, I thought.

As I got closer, his figure seemed to be perfectly entrenched in the gloominess of the rain. In my mind, I thought he was the exact opposite of bleakness, yet here he sat, his clothes dimmed and darkened by the downpour, his body shivering. Yet the scenes fit together perfectly. It was a surprise - a man that seemed so incapable of being miserable simply was. For this man to feel sadness, to me, seemed to be some kind of senseless contradiction. After all, he was laughing but a moment ago - unconquered by life. What had happened to the shelter, his lights, his music? Where were they now? I went outside.

The host seemed to notice me for the first time. “You’re still here”, he said in a shocked expression
“What are you doing?” I asked. “Are you okay?”
He seemed to regain himself and smiled. “Of course, just admiring the rain.”

Yet his voice was frail, and both were fully aware of the lie. He stared plainly in my direction; I could tell, however, that he wasn’t looking at me. I left.

The host just sat there, his faux expression receding back into his face. The rain was falling fast, so I started running. There was no shelter in sight - but reason told me that I had to move. As the host faded out of view, I knew that there was no exception. He, too, no how many lights blinded him or sounds deafened him, had seen life. No person can stand up to reality itself, and there is nowhere they can run and hide it from. The cruel truth will always wrench its way out, piercing every veil that tries to feebly cover it up. With this realization, I knew that my perspective was right. I stopped running, and the cold droplets ran down my face. I smiled.