I must've looked miserable sitting on a bench propped up against the wall. We were at Mother, a nightclub in London. Earlier that night, we were at the pub chatting up the bartender, smoking our cigarettes and then sharing a joint on the roof and then back downstairs smoking more cigarettes, eyelids heavy and giggling at the most mundane of sounds. Too bad the merriment faded as the night went on. And so the usual weekend ritual went. Off to The Big Chill and more drinks. And then to some other obscure club whose name escapes me, where countless unfamiliar people chatted us up as we chain smoked.

And then Mother.

By now, I was unhappy and want to go back to the hostel. The blaring of the house music was getting to me. I was begging my friend to get out of there but he was too high to care. It was unlike me to feel this way because I liked to dance but I just wanted to get out. Too bad I'm in London, England and don't trust myself traipsing its streets as my buzz is winding down.

A man with piercing blue eyes sat right next to me. He startled me and made me uncomfortable.

"I wanted to ask you something." He started.

"Yeah?" I was curious but guarded.

"Do you believe in Jesus Christ?"