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ONE
FAITH
On a scale from one to ten, how bad would it be to Irish exit out of this place?
If anybody asked me later what happened, I could just pretend I met a hot guy and decided to go home with him. It wasn't a common occurrence for me, especially not as of late, but I'm sure the ladies wouldn't care. Hell, they'd probably be relieved and think that old Faithful was back.
God, I hated that nickname.
Almost as much as I hated how the room pulsed around me. Techno blasted from the speakers above and lights flashed, all while a wave of people danced tightly on the dance floor. We were packed in like sardines and everyone around me seemed to be having the time of their lives.
I half assed my moves, which was very unlike me. But my heart just wasn’t in it today.
Frankly, it hadn’t been in it for a while, but when I received a text from Jess, someone who always coordinated the group’s nightlife activities, I decided to say yes. It had been forever since I’d left my house or my father’s house.
I should have stayed home.
Sipping on a cup of hot tea while swathed in my teddy bear PJs sounded like a dream right about now.
Back to that Irish exit idea…
“Let’s do another round of shots,” Jess shouted at us, tapping me and the other ladies on the shoulder and directing us back to the private booth we’d purchased for the night. Bottle service and the best view of the club—it was how the jet-set crew rolled.
I winced, realizing I missed my chance at escape, lamenting that the relative quiet of our cordoned off area was better than the bustle of the dance floor.
Once again, I forced a smile as Brittney poured out five shots, the tequila sloshing over the sides of the tiny glasses on the table.
We raised our glasses, clinking them together before bringing them to our lips. I sipped mine.
“What are you doing?” Brittney protested, her brows forming an annoyed “V.” “Slam the shot.”
“I prefer it this way, thanks,” I said with a smile that usually charmed the pants off everyone. Though since I’d grown up with them, this group was pretty used to it.
We’d all practically known each other from the womb, or at least since elementary school— a fancy Upper East Side establishment that catered to the children of the wealthy and famous. We’d grown up with privilege, a bunch of trust fund babies, the lot of us.
None of them had a job. And technically, I didn’t have a real job either, but I did have a budding career as a painter. It was something I’d done when I was little, a natural talent I’d finally started to nurture. One that I’d actually made money doing after my first art show a few weeks back.
Whereas none of these women had worked a day in their lives. Unless you counted posting products to Instagram. They did that quite well.
Basically, they’d seen me through it all. It was hard to get things past people you’d known for twenty years, even if you only stuck to sharing superficial things.
So, no, they weren’t charmed by my smile.
The only other person immune to my smile was my brother’s friend Sebastian. For a man I had only met a handful of times—none of which were positive interactions—I thought about the man a lot. He lived rent free in my head. Much to my annoyance.
“Come on, Faith. Finish the shot,” Jess prodded next.
Brittney nodded. “Down it so we can go back to the dance floor.”
I groaned, then clutched my waist. “I have a stitch in my side. I think I need to take a break. You all go out there. I’m going to pour this into a mixed drink and then drink some water.” I made a big show of sitting down and getting to work, claiming a large glass that was on the table to mix tequila and pineapple juice. I’d seen the cocktail on TikTok and had always wanted to try one.
The ladies shared a look but didn’t protest further. I was quite good at setting boundaries…sometimes.
Besides, this might help with my exit strategy.
The music changed, and the ladies shrieked in excitement as a song I’d heard a million times on the radio blared through the speakers. They ran out to the dance floor, and I slumped in my seat, grateful for the break.
I stirred my drink and then took a sip of my concoction. Flavor burst on my tastebuds; the pineapple married perfectly with the tequila. “Tasty.”
