“Hey, you’re the fucking Guests of Honor,” Avie spits at us. “Let’s go.”
Zeb and I burst out laughing when we pass him.
Though the moment we step inside, I throw my hands into the air and shout.
Because it’s the release party for the band’s second album—for my first.
We’ve barely been at the bar for more than five minutes when a pretty brunette catches my eyes down a few people, and I shift on my feet at the sight of the slow smile growing on her lips.
I tip back two shots of vodka and ignore the fuzzy way my brain feels.
“Another round?” Reed asks.
“I can still feel my face, so yes,” I tell him. “Hey, I’m going down to chat with that beauty over there,” I say, nodding to the woman. “Bring my shot down there?”
Reed grins slyly. “Do you think she needs double the company?”
I chuckle and peer at her again. “She does look a little sad, doesn’t she?” I say. “I don’t know. I’m feeling kind of selfish.”
He laughs. “Yeah, okay. How about I bring you shots down there in five, and you can tell me to kick rocks if you’re still feeling selfish.”
“Deal.”
“And if not—” Reed clinks his shot against mine, and I smirk at his confidence.
“Okay, I’m running to the restroom first. Don’t go trying to take my things while I’m gone,” I tell him.
He holds his pinky up, and I link mine with his.
“Promise.”
I leave him with one more look at the brunette who appears confused at the fact that I’m heading across the dance floor and not toward her.
So, I blow her a kiss before disappearing into the crowd.
The ten-stall restroom is dimly lit with graffiti all over the walls. I smile at a few women when I pass them, though my focus is rattled by how much my bladder is suddenly aching.
Damn, that was fast.
I thought I might need to pee when we left the hotel, but I didn’t think it would hit this hard yet.
The moment I sit on the plastic seat, I sigh with relief. I feel like a new person as the piss leaves me. Closing my eyes, everything around me seems to spin. I can’t tell if I’m unsteady on the seat or if the ground is rocking.
I don’t know how much longer she has.
Ugh. I can’t think about my dad’s texts right now.
Why did my mom have to get sick now?
It isn’t fair.
She was supposed to be here to see all of this. She was supposed to see me onstage, see my dreams come true—
Laughter fills my ears. It’s loud enough that I open my eyes and practically gasp for air.
How long have I been sitting on the toilet?
My numb foot should give me some kind of hint; however, it’s hard to discern if that’s from sitting or the muscle relaxer I took a couple of hours ago.
