THE RESET: A New Year's Eve Story: PART 3 - THE PARTY BEGINS
A packed resort. A ticking clock. Six people trying to survive a night they never agreed to want.
At 8:43pm, Aisha stood in front of her closet trying to decide what you wear to a nudist New Year's Eve party when you're determined to stay clothed.
She'd brought three options: a blazer and slacks (too formal), jeans and a sweater (too casual), or a simple black dress that could pass for either business or evening wear depending on the jewelry.
The dress won. Professional enough to feel armored. Casual enough not to look like she was trying too hard.
She checked her reflection. Hair down. Minimal makeup. The goal was to blend in, which felt absurd given that everyone else would be blending in by removing their clothes.
Her phone buzzed.
Marcus: Lobby in 2 minutes.
She grabbed her keycard and headed for the elevator.
They assembled in the lobby like soldiers preparing for deployment. Six people dressed for a party they absolutely did not want to attend.
Marcus wore dark jeans and a button-down. Trying for casual confidence. Achieving nervous energy.
Becca had gone with a sleek black jumpsuit. Statement earrings. Red lipstick. If she was going down, she was going down looking like she meant to be there.
Claire wore a floral maxi dress and sandals. The kind of outfit that said "I'm at a beach resort and I'm comfortable with that." She'd clearly decided practicality trumped everything else.
Jamal had on khakis and a polo. The uniform of a man who'd given up trying to make sense of anything.
Diego looked like he was dressed for a funeral. Black pants, black shirt, the expression of someone attending his own execution.
Aisha's black dress fit right in. Anonymous. Forgettable.
"Ready?" Marcus asked.
"No," Diego said.
"Too bad. Let's go."
They walked through the lobby toward the pool area where music was already pulsing. The bass thrummed through the floor. Laughter and conversation spilled out into the night air.
As they rounded the corner, the party came into view.
And it was packed.
Easily a hundred people. Maybe more. The pool area had been transformed with string lights, a DJ booth, tables loaded with food and champagne. A bar at one end, a dance floor near the pool.
And at least half the guests were naked.
Not partially clothed. Not in swimsuits. Naked.
Diego stopped walking.
"Nope."
"Keep moving," Claire said, gently pushing him forward.
"I can't."
"You can. One foot in front of the other."
They found a spot near the edge of the party. Close enough to look like they were participating. Far enough to have an escape route.
A waiter passed with a tray of champagne. They each grabbed a glass like it was a lifeline.
"This is fine," Marcus said, his voice slightly too loud.
"This is not fine," Diego said.
"We're here. We're making an appearance. That's all corporate needs to see."
"Corporate isn't here to see anything."
"We'll take pictures. Prove we attended."
"Pictures?" Becca said. "Did you read the welcome card? Photography is strictly prohibited."
"Not of the naked people. Of us. Clothed. At the party."
"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."
"You got a better idea?"
She didn't.
Around them, the party pulsed with energy. People danced. People laughed. People moved through the crowd with the easy confidence of people who weren't wearing clothes and didn't care.
A couple walked past. The woman was topless, wearing only a short skirt and heels. The man wore board shorts and nothing else. They were holding hands, laughing at something, completely at ease.
Aisha watched them disappear into the crowd. "They look happy."
"They're naked at a party," Diego said. "How can they be happy?"
"Because they want to be here," Claire said quietly. "We're the only ones who don't."
That landed heavy.
Jamal took a long drink of champagne. "So what now?"
"We stay for an hour," Marcus said. "Make small talk. Act normal. Then we leave."
"Small talk with who?" Becca asked. "Everyone here is naked."
"Not everyone."
He was right. There were other clothed people scattered through the crowd. Couples in resort casual. A few solo guests in jeans and t-shirts. They weren't the only ones fully dressed.
But they were definitely in the minority.
The DJ transitioned to a new song. Something upbeat and danceable. The crowd cheered. More people moved toward the dance floor.
"Anyone asks us to dance, we're saying no," Diego said.
"Agreed," Marcus said.
"I might dance," Claire said.
Everyone turned to look at her.
"What? I like this song."
"You're not seriously considering..."
"I'm considering having one drink, listening to some music, and trying to enjoy a party I was forced to attend. Sue me."
She walked toward the bar, leaving the other five standing in stunned silence.
"Is she okay?" Diego asked.
"I think she's adapting," Aisha said.
"Adapting to what?"
"Reality."
By nine-thirty, they'd spread out slightly. Still within sight of each other, but no longer clustered in a defensive formation.
Claire had found a spot near the bar and was chatting with a woman in a sundress about the best hiking trails in Southern California. Normal conversation. Normal people. The fact that several naked people were dancing behind them barely seemed to register.
Jamal had claimed a chair near the pool, nursing his second whiskey, watching the crowd with the resigned expression of a man who'd given up being shocked by anything.
Diego stood at the food table, eating cheese like his life depended on it. Stress eating. Classic coping mechanism.
Aisha had found a quiet corner with a view of the ocean. She sipped her champagne and watched the party unfold like it was a documentary she was studying for work.
That left Marcus and Becca standing together near the edge of the dance floor, maintaining their uneasy truce.
"So," Becca said after a long silence. "Croatia."
"What about it?"
"You really went to a nude beach there."
"I said I did."
"That's not an answer."
Marcus took a drink. "What do you want me to say?"
"The truth would be nice."
"Fine. I went to a beach in Croatia. On the coast. It was clothing-optional. I kept my shorts on the entire time. I lasted maybe twenty minutes before I bailed."
Becca stared at him. "You lied."
"I didn't lie. I went to a nude beach. I just... didn't specify the details."
"You said it wasn't a big deal."
"It wasn't. For other people. For me it was terrifying."
She started laughing. Not mean laughter. Relieved laughter.
"What?" Marcus asked.
"I've never been to a clothing-optional spa in Germany."
"You lied too?"
"I went to a regular spa in Munich. There was a sauna. Everyone was clothed. I made the whole thing up because you were being so smug about Croatia."
They looked at each other. Two competitive idiots who'd trapped themselves with their own bullshit.
"We're screwed, aren't we?" Marcus said.
"Completely."
"Everyone thinks we're fine with this."
"Because we said we were."
"Because you said you were first."
"Because YOU started it with your Croatia story!"
A naked man danced past them, completely oblivious to their argument.
They both watched him go.
"This is the weirdest night of my life," Marcus said.
"Same."
"What do we do?"
"I have no idea."
The DJ's voice boomed over the speakers. "Alright Sundrift! We've got two and a half hours until midnight! Let's keep this energy going!"
The crowd cheered.
Marcus and Becca looked at each other.
Two and a half hours until midnight.
Whatever happened then, they were going to face it together.
Because they were both too stubborn to admit defeat.
By ten-fifteen, the party had reached full momentum.
The dance floor was packed. The bar was three-deep with people ordering drinks. Someone had started a conga line that wound through the pool area, half the participants clothed, half naked, everyone laughing.
The six of them had regrouped near the food table.
"How long do we have to stay?" Diego asked for the third time.
"Until midnight," Marcus said.
"That's an hour and forty-five minutes."
"I can count."
"I'm just saying, that's a long time to stand here surrounded by..."
"We know," Becca said. "We're all thinking it."
Claire returned from the bar with fresh drinks for everyone. "The bartender is from San Diego. Nice guy. Makes a very strong margarita."
"How many have you had?" Jamal asked.
"This is number three."
"Jesus, Claire."
"What? I'm coping. This is how I cope."
Aisha took a sip of her champagne. "The energy here is actually pretty positive."
"Of course it is," Diego said. "They're all naked. They have nothing to hide."
"That's kind of the point."
"The point of what?"
"Naturism. Body acceptance. Removing the shame and judgment we attach to being seen."
Everyone stared at her.
"What?" Aisha said. "I googled it earlier. It's actually an interesting philosophy."
"You googled naturism," Marcus said slowly.
"Yeah. While you were all panicking, I was learning."
Becca shook her head. "Of course you were."
"Knowledge is power."
"Knowledge isn't going to help us when midnight hits and everyone takes their clothes off."
"Actually," Aisha said, "from what I read, the midnight tradition here is a beach run. Everyone goes down to the water, makes a wish for the new year, and jumps in. It's supposed to be cleansing. Symbolic."
"Symbolic of what?" Diego asked.
"Letting go. Starting fresh. Shedding what doesn't serve you."
"Sounds like hippie nonsense," Jamal muttered.
"Maybe. But it's also kind of beautiful if you think about it."
"I'm trying very hard not to think about it," Diego said.
A woman approached their group. Fifties, silver hair, wearing a flowing white dress. Completely clothed. Smiling warmly.
"You folks mind if I steal a piece of brie?" she asked, gesturing at the cheese plate.
"Go ahead," Claire said.
The woman took a small wedge, popped it in her mouth. "First time at Sundrift?"
"That obvious?" Marcus asked.
"A little. You've got that deer-in-headlights look. It fades after the first night."
"How long have you been coming here?" Becca asked.
"Ten years. My husband and I come every New Year's. It's our tradition." She gestured across the pool where a man in his sixties, completely naked, was dancing with abandon. "That's him. Gary. He's having the time of his life."
They all looked at Gary. Gary waved.
"He seems... happy," Claire said diplomatically.
"He is. We both are. This place gave us something we didn't know we were missing."
"What's that?" Aisha asked.
"Permission to just be. No performance. No judgment. Just existence." She smiled. "Anyway, enjoy your night. The midnight run is magical. Don't miss it."
She walked away, leaving the six of them standing in silence.
"She was nice," Claire said.
"She was naked," Diego said. "Her husband, I mean."
"I noticed."
"And she was just... fine with it."
"Seems like it."
Marcus checked his watch. "One hour and thirty-seven minutes."
"Stop counting," Becca said.
"I can't."
"Try."
The DJ cranked up the volume. The party surged forward into the final stretch before midnight.
And the six of them stood at the edge, watching, waiting, wondering what they were going to do when the moment finally came.
END OF PART 3 of 8
