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Kurt turns to grin at him. And in one movement, he crosses to the table Asher and his “friends” are sitting at, leans over it, and snorts up one of the thick lines Ash has been perfecting over the last fifteen minutes.
I arch a brow, glancing at Iggy, and then at Asher. But, Ash is cool. Or at least, cool enough to not blow his top that easily.
“What’s the matter, Ash?” Kurt grins as he rubs his nose. “Seein’ guys in their underwear make you think of your home life back with your dad? Bet you’ve seen a lot of that, what with him being a poof and all.”
Asher’s father, the relatively famous jazz bassist Leonard Sins,isin fact, gay.
Also, literally no one cares, especially Asher.
“Shit, mate, I’ve been meaning to pass this your way,” Asher sighs. “Dad wanted me to tell you ‘great effort and enthusiasm’, but he said to maybe use less teeth next time, yeah?”
The four of us snicker as Kurt bristles, glaring at Asher. But before anything can happen, a small shape materializes out of the dim hallway behind Kurt. My head swivels, and my eyes narrow at the disheveled looking girl tugging at the strap of her dress.
The room goes quiet.
She looks scared. And the bruises on her neck and wrists look new. But most of all, she looksyoung.
Too young.
Too fucking young to be walking bruised and bow-legged out of Kurt Harrison’s hotel room at five o’clock in the fucking morning.
“What thefuckis this?”
Iggy’s eyes blaze with fury as he lurches from the couch. He glances at me, then back to Kurt as he jabs a finger at the girl.
“What is this?” He snarls.
Kurt rolls his eyes. He turns, and the girl whimpers—not in a good way—when he slaps her ass.
“Time to go, babe.”
She smiles weakly at the rest of us as she pulls something out of her bag.
It’s a ticket, to the show earlier tonight.
“Could…I mean, would you all sign—”
“No fucking autographs,” Kurt mutters. “Get the fuck out.”
Her face falls as she nods numbly. She turns and quickly makes her way to the hotel suite door. The room is still silent when it shuts behind her. But Kurt seems to ignore it as he grabs a pack of cigarettes off the table next to him and sticks one between his lips.
He frowns as he lights it, glancing at us.
“What?”
“What?” Iggy says thinly. His eyes narrow as he jabs a finger at the door the girl just left through.
“What thefuckwas that?”
“That wasfun,” Kurt rolls his eyes. “You should quit being so pussy whipped by one fucking woman and try it sometime before your balls fall off.”
“How old is she?”
Kurt stiffens, turning to glare at me next.
“Huh?”
I stand slowly, my jaw gritting as I put the guitar down.
