Please call me. Let me know you’re okay.
“Ten minutes!” Reed announces. “Ten minutes, then let’s get this fucking party going!”
It takes me all of the ten minutes to slap pink and black glitter on my eyelids, touch up my black lipstick, and change clothes. Zeb joins me halfway through, offering the joint he’s rolled, and I take a few hits before slipping on the fairy wings.
The drive from the venue to the club is all excited shouts and singing between Reed and I. Friends meet us out front. One of them scoops me into their arms and carries me inside, and once we enter, life becomes a blur.
The music is an extension of the heartbeat I can hear in my ears. Each time that beat turns into the high-pitched screech of a heart monitor, I close my eyes.
I want to drown.
I wonder if there’s a point I could reach, a combination of things that might allow my hearing to feel as it does underwater. I wonder if there’s an end that feels like the weight of water pressing in on me. The compression and hug, the struggle for air.
I wish I was there now.
Yet until I can sink myself beneath the water in my tub later, I’ll settle for another trip to the bar.
Blue hair snags my attention when I turn. My stomach bottoms out.
God, why is she here? Can’t she just leave me alone?
Maybe it isn’t her. Lots of people have blue hair. It doesn’t mean she’s here.
I repeat the thought as I pivot toward the bar again. Mads is a few feet away, turned in the same direction as me, and when we see each other, I walk faster, racing him to get there first. His darkly lined eyes squint—the only part of him I can see as he’s wearing a steampunk half-mask. Still, I know he’s grinning.
We slam into the bar at the same time, shoulders colliding, and I hear his laugh meet mine. I stagger off balance in hysterics, and Mads catches me before I trip backward into the stool.
“Whoa—You good?” he asks.
“Maddie, Mads, Madness!” I laugh and throw my arms up, swaying on my feet. “You worry too much. I’m good! It’s Halloween. Isn’t this like your favorite holiday?”
“Yeah, something like that,” he says, chuckling.
I slap the bar twice. “Hey, Des, babe! Can you get us two more of those spider drinks?” I call to the bartender.
Mads holds his hand up and waves her off. “Water, Des,” he says when she comes down to make the drinks.
“With vodka,” I add.
Mads shakes his head. “I think a little water will do some good, Bon,” he says. “Did you eat after the show?”
I balk. “What are you, my mom?” I laugh at myself for saying it. “Oh wait, you’re alive. She isn’t. Big,bigdifference there,” I say sarcastically.
“Wait, what?” Mads’ brows narrow my way, and I shake my head.
“It’s nothing—”
“It isn’t nothing. Is that why you went home?” he asks.
Because I didn’t tell any of them what was going on.
“I said it’s nothing, and I don’t want to talk about it,” I snap. “Jesus fuck, Mads. Mind your own fucking business.”
He’s your family. He’s just concerned about you.
“Bon—”
“Just leave me alone, Mads,” I say as Des pushes a drink in front of me. I gulp it back, and when I go to take the other, Mads slams his hand on top of it.
