WILLA
The frequency of sound can kiss my entire ass. This iterating rattling from the oversized speakers sets my teeth on edge as I scan the outdoor venue, plotting my escape.I’ve done clubs and concerts before, but only when the stars align and my mood matches my mindset. A weekend music festival clearly meets neither of those requirements. It’s too much.I need to get the hell out of here.
Smoke fills the air as the sweaty throng sways around me, high off their asses. The sustained baseline lulls them into a trance, while it sends me over the edge. Every single one of them has contributed to my decision to call it a night. I’ve been outside all day, and now that the sun is down, my body is screaming for solitude. My sole reason for coming to the San Diego Tunes Festival left the stage over an hour ago. I should have gone with her.
I’ve forced myself to power through to justify the gaping hole left in my Europe or Bust fund, but fuck all of that right now. The holidays are right around the corner. I’ll make it back with the uptick in family photo sessions.
My lavender sundress, which seemed like a good outfit choice this morning, clings to the sweat trickling down my spine, touching me in all the wrong places. I’m ready to toss it in a fireand crawl into the sweatpants waiting for me in my room. As I peel the dress away from my lower back and smooth it around my hips, I’m jostled forward, and my eye twitches. This bitch-ass lothario has bumped me from behind three times, trying to get my attention. I’m about to go off, when a fourth bump solidifies my decision to head back to the hotel. That, and my growing headache from the weed wafting in the breeze. Trekking across the sandy beach in the dark is a small price to pay to get away from this chaos.
“Hey, I’m heading back.” I turn to my sister, who’s swaying to the repetitious droning like it’s fixing her life.
She leans in to hear me, dewy amber skin glistening with sweat, and rolls her eyes. “I’m surprised you lasted this long. You want Hunter to walk you back?” She tilts her head to her spectacled fiancé, who taps away on his phone as he bobs his fresh fade to the beat.
“No, I’m good. You two have fun.”
“You sure? Or I could text Trev. He’dloveto walk you back…” Her eyes fall closed as she lets the music course through her, missing my scowl. Trevor started the day with us, but I haven’t seen him in a few hours. His corny ass would walk me back in a heartbeat, that’s for damn sure. I suspect he’s had a misguided crush on me for years, based on his attempts at grade school teasing. He calls meJimfor fuck’s sake, which I’ll never understand. So I ignore it and him. I’m not interested in the do-gooder Eagle Scout type, no matter how nice he is to look at.
“I don’t need a damn escort, Ash. I’ll be fine. See you in the morning.”
She cuts me with a glare mid-sway. “Miss me with that attitude, girl. I’m just looking out for you.”
“I know. Sorry.” I blow out a breath and grimace. “The noise is getting to me.”
“It’s called ‘music.’” A smile creeps across her face, and I brace myself as she slips an arm around my waist, pulling me into the side hug she knows I’ll hate. “Happy birthday, Wills.”
She suggested we come to this festival for my birthday and lured me in with my favorite singer, Sienna Raine. Seeing her perform live was once-in-a-lifetime amazing, but this environment is the furthest thing from my scene.Crowds have a way of making me never want to leave my house again, and retreating to my quiet hotel room will be a welcome solitude. I’m ready to drown in peace and quiet.
Weaving through the horde, I breathe easier as I get farther from the speakers, but the low vibrations taunt me across the sand until I’ve almost reached the pavement. Only then do I look up at the stars and pause.Breathe.Release the tension. Kicking off my gladiator sandals, I let the gritty sand between my toes bring me back into my body. I don’t know how long I stand there wiggling my feet, but a buzzing on my hip snaps me out of it. Reaching into my mini sling bag, I grab my phone.
Sam
Happy Birthday, Will. 31 never looked better!
Me
Thank you I have a date with my sweatpants
Sam
Whoa now. Don’t go too crazy. Might throw out a hip…
Me
Sam
Maci says that’s not nice.
Her wide-eyed face lights up my screen, and I laugh, despite myself. She’s the most expressive baby I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot in the studio. But she’s a tiny spitfire already, a girl after my own heart. I love her to bits. A FundsForMe banner slides right over her perfect wisps of brown hair.
Sam: $200 for the birthday girl. I know you didn’t get yourself anything. Go wild and buy a week’s worth of sweatpants . JK. Europe or bust!
I smile at his message because he’s right—I didn’t. Being a business owner himself, Sam knows how hard it is for me to spend money on myself. I like to put everything back into the studio, and that’s part of the reason business has grown so much these last few years. That, and getting a few high-profile clients who leave me raving reviews and send constant referrals my way. Momentum is on the fast track, and I’ve given all I have to Framed Orchid. It’s my baby. My home. I shoot off a text to Sam.
Me
Ah, so the “Plant Daddy” to “grey sweatpants” pipeline is real.
Sam
