“How’s it going with your rock star?” Emily offers her vape to me. Against my better judgment, I accept and take a puff. It tastes like cotton candy and cherries.
The smoke curls out of my lips. “It’s been fun but—”
“Oh…” She takes another drag and blows the smoke behind her shoulder. “You’re using the death words, past tense, and the dreadedbut.”
“It’s complicated.” I toy with a strand of hair, coiling it around my finger until my pulse thuds in its tip. “There’s never a story about dating a musician and it not being rocky.”
She nods. “True, but are you talking Courtney Love and Kurt Cobain kind of fucked up or Bon Jovi and his high school sweetheart?”
“Too early to tell.” I rub my temple. This drink is going straight to my head. “Where’s Alice?”
Emily points to the cage dancers. “She pulled out one of the girls and took her place. You know how she can’t stand not being the center of attention.”
I glance up, and sure enough, Alice is shaking her ass fifteen feet in the air inside a steel cage. “Naturally.” I bow my head and tap my heel against the floor, enjoying the annoying clicking sound.
“Gotta love her spirit. She always gets what she wants.”
“Agreed…” I finish my drink and watch the ice spin inside the glass. “Despite the cost to others,” I mutter, pushing off the wall and entering the crowd again.
One of the reasons I never go to clubs is no matter how many people surround me, I never feel more alone. I leave with bruised arms and sticky shoes but inside I’m empty.
The alcohol buzzes inside my head and turns my blood into sludge. My thoughts spin and my vision warps.
There must be something between going to clubs and staying home. Though you’d need more of a social life to be invited to things or be in a relationship with someone who wanted to be seen publicly with you.
A giant hand falls onto my shoulder and for a heartbeat I think it’s Sully, finding me like some fictional hero who can’t stand being away from his love interest.
“You’re not leaving, are you?” the stranger beside me asks. His dark hair is swept back by gel, and his skin is sun-kissed. By the looks of his body beneath his tight tee and jeans, I’d bet he’s a surfer.
“Don’t have a reason to stay,” I say.
“Let me change your mind. One song?” He offers his hand and a shy smile.
My eyes flick to my phone. No new messages.
“Okay. One song,” I reply, letting the stranger lead me into the crowd.
A new catchy song hits the speakers and we dance. His hands slide from my sides to my hips. I swing around him, and he twirls me. I laugh, allowing my nerves to drift away. Trying to live in the moment and have fun.
“Veronica!” I hear Alice shout.
I scan the area and spot her in a cage hanging above us to the right. She waves, then shakes her ass, whipping her hair like she owns the place.
“Friend of yours?” the guy asks, his grin too wide, too eager—like he’s already unwrapping me in his mind.
“Yes,” I reply, dragging my hand down his sculpted chest. He’s all muscle and show, but there’s nothing—no spark, no heat, just a cold flatline.
He finally looks away from Alice and fixes his eyes on me. “How about you hop in the cage next?” His fingers trail along my collarbone, rough and intrusive, like they’re staking a claim that doesn’t belong to him. A chill runs through me, like my skin’s trying to crawl away from his touch.
“Gotta go.” I duck away and weave through the crowd until I reach the bathroom. I slam a stall door shut and lock it behind me. Girls yell, pounding on the door, but I press my back to the wall and try to breathe.
With a shaky hand, I check my messages again, and nothing. I search online, and my heart dies as my stomach falls to the floor. Gigi won Artist of the Year, and during the after-show, she kissed Sully again. But this time, she has her arms wrapped around his neck. His hands locked on her hips. His head tilted like he was enjoying their embrace.
Screw him. I wipe away my tears and order a ride home.
Fuck him for cracking open my world and basking me in light. The darkness wasn’t so bad, not when I had a career to pour all my energy into. Now my heart is exposed, and it’s his fault.
When my ride is nearby, I throw open the stall door and text Alice, telling her I’m leaving. My fury must radiate off my skin because people move out of my way so I can exit this despicable club without tripping over anyone’s feet or being pushed in a different direction.
