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The flashes around us become furious, the shouting that comes from all different directions shifting into a chaotic roar. Bella pulls away from our kiss and gazes up at me with hooded eyes and a seductive smile. I look at her, no emotion, no sign of lust or wanting, just vacant, void of fervency. But that moment passes. I turn to the cameras, a feigned smile plastered on my face. As quickly as the kiss passes between Bella and me, I turn towards the door and enter the building, Bella close at my feet.
As soon as we walk through the door, the music is loud. I can feel the vibrations from the bass strum through my chest. When I turn to Bella, I speak through the quiver in my chest.
“Did you want a drink?” I shout over the music. She flirtatiously leans herself towards me, casually placing a hand on my forearm and grazing her fingers up towards my shoulder. I inwardly flinch, her touch not welcome, but I try to remain indifferent.
“Sure! I’ll have whatever you’re having,” she says. She looks around the room, and her eyes light up towards the dance floor. “My friends are over there. I’m going to say hi.” Her voice is shrill as she tries to speak over the music. I nod, silently letting her know that I heard her, and walk towards the bar.
I lean against the bar top, waiting for a bartender to become available to take my order. It’s busy and hectic, but I wait patiently. My hands find the corners of my lips, grazing them, the last thing they touched being Bella’s lips. I hate knowing that the last lips mine touched weren’t Ellie’s anymore. If it was up to me, all of my kisses would be saved for Ellie. Every single one of them. I would kiss her every moment I could get. I would savor each one, holding her close to me and letting her lips linger longer than needed until every kiss that belonged to Ellie was mine.
“Hey, boss.” I’m interrupted from my thoughts by the bartender with a full beard and tattoo sleeves running down to the tips of his fingers. “What’ll it be?”
“I’ll have a scotch, neat,” I answer him. “Make that two,” I add, two fingers held in the air, signaling that I want a second added to my order.
The drinks come quickly, and I open a tab. I down the first one and look around for Bella. I can’t find her anywhere. I survey the span of the dance floor to where Bella walked, and I still don’t see her. I down the second glass of scotch, and the slow burn travels down my throat. It hits my stomach, causing a blaze to ignite, a fire that spreads and spans throughout my body. My movements begin to feel numb, every shift following in slow motion.
“Hey! We lost you,” Jackson screams into my ear. He slings his arm around my neck with a large bottle of something held in his hand, I don’t even care what. I grab it from him and empty almost half of it. Already buzzed from our day spent lazily drinking tequila, the strong liquor hits my stomach, leaving a warmth spreading through my body.
I’m trying to loosen the noose that’s suffocating me with the undying supply of alcohol that keeps coming my way. But the noise, the crowd, the stuffy air makes me feel like everything is closing in on me. I need to get away.
I hand Jackson back the half-empty bottle and reach my hand into his shirt pocket. I find what I’m looking for: the valet ticket for his car. I hold it up in front of him and point towards the exit.
“Are you okay to drive?” he yells, the same question I asked him on our way over here.
“I’m just going to sit in the car. I’m a little tired,” I answer. He nods and continues to bob his head along to the music. He turns and weaves himself through the crowd of people, disappearing in the midst of the dancers.
I turn and find the door I came in from. As soon as I push past the doors, the cameras start again, flashing in my face and nearly blinding me. My sweat-filmed, haggard face searches for the valet so I can find Jackson’s car. When I finally call them, they drive up quickly, and I hastily get in and drive off. I didn’t intend on driving. I’m too inebriated. But when the door opened, inviting me into an escape from the stifling crowd, I accepted.
With the adrenaline coursing through me, I drive. The alcohol that I guzzled not even ten minutes ago is now hitting my bloodstream and making its way to my consciousness. My feet become heavy on the pedal, like bricks floating to the bottom of the ocean, sinking with no way up. Headlights flash by me, whizzing by my ear through the open window. The sounds of horns honking and people yelling and laughing in the streets become muffled, a distorted sound that squeezes the sides of my head.
What the hell am I doing? I could hurt someone like this. Why did I even get behind the wheel?
During that small window of clarity, I pull over, the sidewalk busy and crowded. I don’t even know where I am. I took so many turns and ran past so many intersections I can’t even tell what direction I came from. I walk out of the car, my gaze zeroed in on the ground as I stumble onto the sidewalk. All while crashing into people before finally finding a wall to lean against.
I turn and rest my back to the wall, my head following. The cool brick hitting the base of my skull takes away the fuzziness from the night as people continue to walk by me, busy on their own paths.
My eyes stay closed, the weight of my lids too heavy to keep them open. I pull out my phone to search for Charles’s number, dialing with my head hung low and my vision blurred.
“Rhylan! Where’d you go?”
“Charles. I don’t know where I am, but I need you to come and get me,” I rasp out.
“What? Rhy! I can barely hear you.”
I only hear the blaring music coming through the other side of the phone mingled in with the loud chatter overpowering Charles’s voice. I remember sending him my location before letting my phone fall, and I go with it. I slump to the ground, no longer able to keep my legs straight, hobbling and weak.
“Hey! Look at this guy!” I hear a taunting voice. I feel my hair being pulled, my neck extending towards the sky. I wince from the pain. I want to pull away, to fight back, but I can’t. I try to will every muscle in my body to bring my hands up, but my limbs feel like they’ve been filled with lead.
“He looks like he’s got some money with that fancy jacket. Check his pockets,” says another voice, more authoritative and serious.
When I hear the words, my hands start to twitch. They start to pull at my clothes, groping and prodding me. I finally start to fight back, moans escaping my mouth in a poor attempt to ward off my attackers. They see my arms raise, trying to curl myself inward, to protect myself. And then I feel the first blow. My ribs take the brunt of the hit, causing me to curl inward even further. The next blow goes to my face, grazing my lip and hitting my jaw. I groan loudly. Any protest stops at my throat, gurgling with the sounds of pain. The hits keep coming, hitting all parts of my body now in the fetal position on the cold, wet ground. I have no idea how long this goes on. Any notion of time is distorted. It could be seconds. It could be hours.
“Hey!” I hear from a distance. It’s a familiar voice echoing through the streets full of people that are oblivious.
The men stop abruptly and run.
“Rhy!” I hear. “Oh my God. Are you okay?” It’s Charles. He wraps his arm around my waist and sits me up. I cough, finally able to breathe.
“Holy shit. We need to get you to a hospital.” I hear Jackson’s voice. His face is the last one I remember seeing. With my eyes still closed, now swollen shut, Jackson puts his arm on the other side of me, helping Charles to get me to a standing position.
