“Amy…”
I keep walking, taking rapid, desperate steps toward my car.
The world feels muted.The city lights are blurry smudges of color against the black sky.
I have no café, no fiancé, no home.
I have nothing.
I am nothing.
TWENTY TWO
THE TIRES SCREAM in protest as I yank the steering wheel.The car swerves dangerously close to the curb before I correct, overcompensating and fishtailing slightly.The city lights blur into a continuous, meaningless stream.
My vision tunnels.
The radio is off; silence is preferable.
I don’t want to feel.
Just do.
My knuckles are white on the wheel, my only anchor in a world spinning out of control.I press the accelerator harder, the speedometer needle climbing.A horn blares behind me.A fleeting annoyance I ignore.I weave between lanes, heedless of other cars.
A red light flashes ahead.
I slam on the brakes, stopping just inches from the crosswalk.The sudden lurch throws me forward against the seatbelt.My chest heaves, but the tears won’t come.
I’m past crying.
I’m in a strange, detached state.Somewhere between numb and reckless.
The light turns green for the cross-traffic.My mind doesn’t process that they now have the right of way.I just see green and floor it, the engine roaring.From my left, a car slams on its brakes, tires screeching.Its horn blasts a sustained, furious warning.It stops inches from my door.
The near impact, a collision averted by sheer luck, barely registers.My foot remains pressed to the floor.
The familiar neon glow of Hydra Nightclub appears in the distance, a beacon in the darkness.
I don’t think, don’t plan.
Just go.
I park haphazardly, ignoring the lines, and practically fall out of the car.The thumping bass of the music vibrates through the pavement, a physical pulse drawing me forward.I stumble, catching myself on the car door, then push toward the entrance.
Toward oblivion.
The bouncer, a large man with a shaved head and a stern expression, stands at the door, checking IDs.He gives me a quick up-and-down look, his eyes lingering on my ankle boots.His gaze travels to my dress, then to my face.
The silence stretches with his unspoken appraisal.
He pauses, hand halfway to the velvet rope, before shrugging and stepping aside.
I step into Hydra.The noise hits me like a deafening wall of sound.The air is thick with sweat, perfume, and spilled alcohol.The bass reverberates through my chest, a relentless pulse syncing with the frantic hammering of my heart.Flashing lights strobe across the crowded dance floor, momentarily blinding me.
Everyone seems to be moving, dancing, laughing… a swirling vortex of energy a world away.A girl in a sequined miniskirt and sky-high heels brushes past me, laughter echoing above the music.Another woman, in a barely-there top and tight leather pants, gives me a dismissive glance.
I become acutely aware of myself:
