YELENA
This might have beena bad idea.
Yes, the music is loud, andgreat. Yes, throwing my head back and justdancingin a shoving mosh pit of complete strangers to headbanging indie dance-rock might be afantasticway to clear it of the million questions about myself and my feelings about Achilles that have kept me keyed up for the last week.
And yes, not being carded at the bar and being about five vodka and Red Bulls deep has me feelingoutstandingright now.
Well,drunkand caffeinated to a near-concerning level. But still. Outstanding.
That said, the longer the three of us are here, the more obvious it’s becoming that weshouldn’tbe.
You know when you walk into a room and feel like everyone is staring at you? In this case, allthreeof us are absolutely being stared at, by everyone.
And “everyone” at The Garage tonight seems to be creepy, andmale.
Okay, one of the bartenders is a woman, and there are maybe ten other women here for the show. But the crowd is overwhelmingly guys, and beginning to stare at us like we’re a buffet table.
Lucia, with her tats, fits in abitbetter. But then there's Galina, who for reasons beyond me decided to come to a dance-rock metal concert at a dive bar looking like she just walked out of J. Crew, complete with a sweater over her shoulders.
I mean,come on.
As one pounding rock song rolls into another, and as the alcohol and Red Bulls roaring through my veins fight to slow me down or wind me up, the feeling that I’m being watched is getting too hard to ignore.
“HOW LATE DOES THIS GO?!” I yell over the wall of sound into Lucia’s ear.
She shrugs, still banging her head to the music, then leans closer.
“I don’t know!!” she yells back. “But honestly, I can leave whenever!”
I smile nervously at her. “You getting that vibe too?”
"YUP." She nods her head dramatically as Galina dances closer to us.
“HEY!” our redheaded friend screams. “This is fun, but it’s getting a little creepy in here!”
“Bail?!” I yell.
They both nod emphatically.
Okay, Standish. It’s been fun, and this band honestly kind of rules. But when the vibes are off, they’re off. Time to go.
For a second, I feel eyes piercing into my back. I tell myself not to turn around, because I’ve been having this feeling all week, and every time Idolook, there’s no Achilles standing there like I’m both dreading and hoping.
Don’t turn around. Don't turn around. Don’t?—
I turn around.
No Achilles, just a bunch of slightly creepy guys in their twenties and thirties eying me up like a snack.
Yup, time to go.
I pull out my phone to order an Uber. Just as I thumb it open, though, the battery dies.
Shit.
“My phone just died!” I yell at my friends over the music.
Lucia grimaces. “Mine kicked fifteen minutes ago.”
