“It is,” Lexie agrees. “But it’s a whole thing, so–” She shrugs, like that explains our obligation to go.
“Why don’t we skip it?” I ask, attempting to strike a balance between casually bored and totally fine either way, because that’s how Tommy Claremont feels, and I have to be him all of the time. If I’m just Tommy in public, the gig is up, and if I’m just Tommy in private, I might scare Kira and Lexie again, and I don’t want to do that. They’re finally relaxed around me again. I can’t take the thought of being even more alone than I already am. So I’m Tommy Claremont, twenty-four/seven.
“I wish,” Lexie mutters, and I realize the girls won’t go for that. It’s not something they’d even consider; ditching a party just to calm down and breathe somewhere they don’t have to pretend. Maybe because they aren’t pretending. This is who they are.
But it’s not who I am, and I’m splitting at the seams. If I have to go to another fancy fucking party, I’ll lose my shit. I’ll shovemy fist down the throat of the first smirky asshole that asks me what I do for work and who my family is. Throw champagne on the first bitch that puts her sparkly hand on my arm without permission. Tear the art off the walls and scream like an animal because since when did buying art help kids anyway?
God, that sounds so appealing. Just letting all of this emotional shit out and burning all my bridges to hell. Sounds so cathartic that I crave it like a cigarette, and I gave up smoking ages ago.
Shit. I can’t go to that party.
“We could go do something actually fun,” I smirk, and lean in on the table like I’m telling them a secret.Think Tommy, think!
“Like what?” Kira asks, so sweet and innocent. Lexie is already staring with wide eyes, like she can tell I’m about to scandalize her and she can’t wait.
“Didn’t I promise we could go dancing when this all started?” I scramble for something they’d actually ditch a party for, and that’s what I land on. And once I say it, god, Ineedit. The movement, the heat, just shutting my brain off for a while and notthinkingso goddamn much. Yeah, that could work. Better than destroying a fundraiser for poor children.
I’ve got some dance partners that know me, that help me out when I get like this. I need them right now. I need some time to just… to drown this anxiety, to sweat out this anger and discomfort, to exhaust myself until I can finally sleep. To be Tommy, just Tommy, for a little while.
“Dancing?” Lexie’s all in, I can tell. Her smile is growing and edged with her thrilled fear of the unknown. “Ooooh, but where?”
“I know a place.”
Kira bites her lip. “I don’t know if my driver will take me anywhere that Uncle Young-gi hasn’t approved.”
“He’s not even here,” I scoff, ignoring the pang in my chest at his name, the way the ring on my finger feels heavier when we talk about him. “We can call a cab, can’t we? Sneak out, like real people do. Haven’t you ever wondered how the rest of the world lives? How us regular people have fun?”
That gets their attention. And maybe I should’ve guessed that it would. Maybe rich people aren’t immune to wondering if the grass is greener somewhere else–if being poor means being free from whatever obligations they’ve made up for themselves in their mind. It doesn’t, but I don’t mind exploiting that curiosity a little bit.
“I don’t know…”
“Come on, Kira!” Lexie wheedles. I knew I could count on her. “It could be fun!”
“What if something happens?”
“Like what?” I ask, genuinely wondering what she’s afraid of.
“What if we get, like, hurt or something? Aren’t clubs dangerous?”
“Babe, you’re with me,” I laugh. “Trust me, no one’s gonna touch you.”
And that’s the motherfucking truth. Where we’re going, people know me. And I mean me, real Tommy; the Tommy that would beat someone to fucking death’s door if they crossed me. Yeah, no one’s gonna bother us. No one there would dare.
Kira isn’t sure about this, but with Lexie on my side, we get her convinced. And just like that, I see a light at the end of the tunnel. All I have to do is make it until tonight without exploding, all I have to do is hold it together until then. I can make it that long. If I can just get there, I’ll be able to breathe.
********
Tommy
They invited Janessa, which is fine I guess, but she’s watching me like I’m a loose cannon and frankly, that’s offensive.
But she’s on her best and most passive behavior, every word and gesture a study in remorse and the desire to make amends. She hasn’t brought up Brian, or asked me anything about the whole situation, so she’s clearly watching her words.
Lexie, predictably, is suspicious and a little peeved, but willing to give Janessa a second chance. Kira, unsurprisingly, is acting shyly optimistic. I don’t know what kind of conversation they had behind closed doors or if they cleared the air about the whole ‘other woman’ thing, but I assume they must’ve because they aren’t bringing it up now as the girls do their make up while blasting some pop music. They’re sharing a bottle of prosecco, but none of them are sipping too heavily, which is good because I’d rather not worry about them getting trashed.
Young-gi is probably already going to murder me for taking them out dancing, no reason to make him extra mad by letting the girls get sloppy drunk in public.
Bizarrely, the thought of him being angry with me makes my lips curl in a grin, while a wobbly feeling flips around in my stomach and makes me almost nauseous. Thrilled, terrified, defensive and smug. What the fuck is wrong with me?
