THE RESET - A New Year’s Eve Story: Part 2 - THE POSTURING
When discomfort turns into competition, honesty becomes collateral damage.
The lobby bar had gotten busier since the afternoon. More guests had arrived for New Year's Eve. Most were clothed, but not all. A woman in a sarong and nothing else ordered a mojito. A couple in matching resort robes sat at the corner table, the robes open just enough to make it clear they were wearing nothing underneath.
The six of them claimed a high-top near the window, as far from other guests as possible.
The bartender approached. Same guy from earlier. Still smiling.
"Back again! What can I get you folks?"
"Whiskey, neat. Double," Jamal said.
"Vodka soda. Make it strong," Becca said.
"IPA. Whatever's strongest," Marcus said.
"Gin and tonic. Tall," Claire said.
"Rum and Coke. Lots of rum," Diego said.
"Tequila," Aisha said. "Just... tequila."
The bartender raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. He poured their drinks, set them down.
"Rough day?" he asked.
"You could say that," Claire said.
"Well, you're at the right place to relax. Tonight's party is going to be amazing. Midnight beach bonfire, champagne toast, the whole deal." He grinned. "It's a tradition here. Everyone really lets loose at midnight."
"Lets loose," Marcus repeated flatly.
"Yeah! You'll see. It's incredible. Most freeing experience you'll ever have."
He walked away, still smiling.
The six of them stared at their drinks.
"So," Diego said quietly. "What happens at midnight?"
"Nothing," Becca said. "We stay in our rooms."
"That's the plan? Hide?"
"Yes. That is exactly the plan."
"What about the party?" Marcus asked. "Corporate will ask questions. We're supposed to participate in team-building activities."
"I think the team-building ship has sailed," Jamal said, taking a long drink.
"We can't just hide in our rooms," Marcus said. "That looks worse than showing up."
"Worse than what?" Becca snapped. "Showing up clothed to a nudist New Year's party?"
"We don't have to participate in... that part. We just make an appearance. Stay on the edges. Prove we were here."
"That's your brilliant plan?"
"You got a better one?"
Silence.
Diego shifted in his seat. "How long do we have to stay? At the party, I mean."
"Long enough to not get fired," Claire said.
"Great. Specific."
Marcus drained half his beer. "Look, I've been to clothing-optional beaches before. In Croatia. It's not a big deal. People are just... existing. You get over it pretty fast."
Everyone turned to stare at him.
"You've been to nude beaches," Becca said slowly.
"Yeah. In Croatia. On the coast. Couple years ago. It's actually pretty common in Europe. Americans are just uptight about this stuff."
Becca's jaw tightened. She knew what he was doing. He was positioning himself as the worldly one. The experienced one. The one who wasn't fazed by any of this.
She refused to let him win.
"Agreed," she said, setting down her drink. "I've done clothing-optional spas in Germany. It's therapeutic, actually. Very freeing."
Marcus's eyes flicked to her. A micro-expression. Surprise. Annoyance.
Good.
"Exactly," Marcus said. "It's just bodies. No one's making it weird except us."
"Right. If anything, we're the weird ones for being so uncomfortable."
Jamal looked between them. "Are you two seriously trying to out-cool each other right now?"
"I'm just saying," Marcus said, "there's no reason to panic. It's a cultural difference. We adapt."
"Adapt," Diego repeated. "To a nudist resort."
"Why not?" Becca said. "We're adults. We can handle being around naked people without losing our minds."
Claire took a long drink. "You're both full of shit."
"Excuse me?" Becca said.
"You heard me. You're pretending to be fine with this because you can't stand the idea of admitting you're uncomfortable in front of each other."
"I'm not pretending anything."
"Neither am I," Marcus said.
"Then prove it," Jamal said, leaning back in his chair. "Go to the party tonight. Stay for the whole thing. See what happens at midnight."
Marcus hesitated. Just for a second. But Becca caught it.
"Fine," Becca said. "I'll go."
"Me too," Marcus said immediately.
They stared at each other across the table. A silent standoff. Neither willing to blink first.
Aisha watched them with a small smile. This was going to be a disaster.
"Well," Claire said. "I guess that settles it."
"Settles what?" Diego asked.
"Marcus and Becca are going to the party. The rest of us can decide individually."
"I'm not going," Diego said.
"I didn't ask you to."
Jamal rubbed his face. "I'll go. Someone needs to keep an eye on these two idiots before they do something stupid."
"I'm going," Aisha said quietly.
Everyone looked at her.
"Why?" Becca asked.
"Because I want to see how this plays out."
Marcus laughed. "At least she's honest."
"What about you?" Jamal asked Claire.
Claire stared into her gin and tonic like it held answers. "I raised three teenagers. I've seen worse than naked strangers. I'll survive."
"So that's five of us," Marcus said. "Diego?"
"Absolutely not."
"Come on. You don't want to be the only one who stays in his room?"
"I really don't care."
"It'll look bad. Corporate will ask why you skipped the celebration."
Diego's face tightened. He hated that Marcus was right.
"Fine," he said finally. "But I'm staying fully clothed. And if anyone talks to me, I'm leaving."
"Deal," Marcus said.
They clinked glasses. A grim toast to a plan none of them actually wanted to execute.
The bartender came back. "Another round?"
"Yes," all six of them said at once.
Dinner was served in the resort's main restaurant. Open-air dining, ocean view, tasteful lighting. Under normal circumstances, it would have been beautiful.
These were not normal circumstances.
Their table was near the back, tucked into a corner where they could see the room but not be too visible themselves. The hostess had seated them with the kind of professional courtesy that suggested she knew exactly what kind of guests they were: the uncomfortable ones.
Around them, other diners chatted and laughed. Some were clothed. Some wore robes. A few wore nothing at all.
A naked couple walked past their table on the way to the buffet.
Diego stared at his menu like it was the most fascinating document he'd ever read.
"I can't do this," he muttered.
"Yes you can," Claire said. "Eyes on your menu. Breathe."
"There's a naked man getting shrimp."
"Then don't get the shrimp."
"This is insane."
"We established that three hours ago. Keep up."
A waiter approached. Young guy, early twenties, wearing black slacks and a white button-down. Fully clothed. Thank god.
"Good evening! Can I start you folks off with drinks?"
They ordered. Wine. Beer. Anything to take the edge off.
When the waiter left, Becca leaned forward. "Okay, so here's the plan for tonight. We show up at nine. We stay on the edges of the party. We don't engage with anyone. At midnight, we... observe. Then we leave."
"Observe what, exactly?" Jamal asked.
"Whatever happens."
"You mean when everyone gets naked and runs to the beach?"
"We don't know that's what happens."
"The bartender literally said 'everyone lets loose at midnight.'"
"That could mean anything."
"Becca."
She sighed. "Fine. Yes. Probably everyone gets naked and runs to the beach."
"And we're just going to stand there and watch?"
"What else are we supposed to do?"
Marcus set down his beer. "We could participate."
Everyone stared at him.
"Participate," Becca repeated.
"Yeah. I mean, if we're already here. If we're already committed to staying. Why not just... go with it?"
"Go with it."
"It's dark. It's the beach. No one's paying attention to us specifically. We could just... blend in."
"Blend in by getting naked and running into the ocean with a bunch of strangers?"
"When you say it like that, it sounds weird."
"It IS weird, Marcus!"
"Is it, though?" He leaned back, affecting a casual confidence he clearly didn't feel. "Think about it. New Year's Eve. New year, new experiences. Step outside your comfort zone. Isn't that what corporate's always pushing? Growth mindset?"
Becca's eyes narrowed. "You're using corporate jargon to justify getting naked at a nudist party."
"I'm saying maybe we stop being so uptight about the whole thing."
"I'm not uptight."
"Then what's the problem?"
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
Jamal groaned. "Oh my god. You're doing it again."
"Doing what?" Marcus asked.
"The thing where you both pretend you're fine with something insane because you can't stand to be the one who backs down first."
"I'm not pretending anything."
"Neither am I," Becca said.
Aisha took a sip of her wine. "This is fascinating."
"Glad you're enjoying yourself," Claire muttered.
The waiter returned with their drinks. They ordered food. Tried to act normal. Failed.
Across the room, a woman stood up from her table, untied her sarong, and walked to the dessert station completely nude.
Diego made a sound like a wounded animal.
"Breathe," Claire said.
"I'm trying."
"Try harder."
The naked woman came back from the dessert station, plate in hand. As she passed their table, she paused. Looked at Claire. Smiled.
"I love that top," she said, gesturing at Claire's navy blue blouse. "I have the same one at home."
Then she walked away, completely unbothered, leaving Claire staring after her with her mouth slightly open.
Five seconds of silence.
Then Claire started laughing. Not polite laughter. Real, helpless, what-the-fuck-is-my-life laughter.
"Did that just happen?" Diego asked.
"Yes," Aisha said, grinning into her wine.
"She complimented your shirt."
"I noticed."
"While completely naked."
"Also noticed."
Marcus was trying not to smile. "See? Normal people. Just having a normal conversation."
"That was not normal," Diego said.
"It was friendly," Becca said, though her voice was tight.
Claire wiped her eyes. "I'm buying that woman a drink."
"Please don't," Diego said.
"Why not? She has good taste."
Jamal raised his beer. "To unexpected compliments."
They clinked glasses. The tension broke, just a little. Enough to breathe.
Marcus watched the woman return to her table, completely unbothered. "See? No one cares. It's just normal here."
"It's not normal," Diego said.
"It's normal for them."
"We're not them."
"We could be. For one night."
Becca set down her wine glass. "Are you seriously suggesting we get naked at this party?"
"I'm suggesting we stop acting like it's the end of the world if we do."
"It's not the end of the world. It's just completely insane."
"Why?"
"Because we work together! Because we have to see each other on Monday morning! Because there are professional boundaries that exist for a reason!"
"Professional boundaries," Marcus said slowly. "Is that what this is about? You're worried about what I'll think if I see you naked?"
Becca's face went red. "I don't give a shit what you think."
"Then what's the problem?"
"The problem is this entire situation is absurd and you're pretending it's not just so you can act like you're cooler than everyone else!"
"I'm not pretending anything. You're the one who..."
"Both of you, stop," Claire said. "We're in public. People are staring."
They looked around. A few nearby tables had gone quiet, watching them.
Marcus and Becca sat back.
Jamal shook his head. "Unbelievable."
The food arrived. They ate in tense silence. Around them, the restaurant buzzed with conversation and laughter. Normal people having a normal New Year's Eve at a clothing-optional resort they'd chosen to attend on purpose.
Not six corporate sales reps trapped in a nightmare of competitive ego and accidental nudity.
When the check came, Claire grabbed it. "I'm expensing this. If corporate wants to send us to a nudist resort, they can damn well pay for dinner."
They filed out of the restaurant. Back through the lobby. Up to their rooms.
"Meet back here at 8:45," Marcus said. "We'll head to the party together."
"Safety in numbers," Jamal muttered.
"Exactly."
They separated. Six doors closing on the same hallway. Six people alone with their thoughts and the growing certainty that tonight was going to change everything.
In her room, Becca stood on the balcony, staring at the ocean. The sun had set. The beach was lit with tiki torches. Music drifted up from the pool area. People were already gathering.
She could leave. Pack her bag. Drive back to the city. Call in sick on Monday.
But Marcus would know. He'd know she blinked first.
She went inside. Started getting ready for a party she didn't want to attend at a resort she never should have been sent to in the first place.
In his room, Marcus stared at himself in the mirror.
He'd been to a nude beach in Croatia. Once. For about fifteen minutes. He'd kept his shorts on the entire time.
But Becca didn't need to know that.
He straightened his collar. Checked his reflection one more time.
Tonight was going to be fine. Totally fine.
He was absolutely, completely, 100% lying to himself.
END OF PART 2 of 8
