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“Uh, yeah, she is. But do you really want to do this here, Ellis? Around all these people?” he asks hesitantly. He takes my hand and winds my arm through his, and he tries to steer me back outside. I rip my arm free and back away from him. We aren’t doing this big-brother, protector act. It has to happen now, while I still have the nerve. I can’t go down quietly. Not after almost six years wasted on that man-child. I want to go out in a blaze of glory. I want to go down swinging. I want to make him feel as humiliated as I feel.
“Where is she?” I ask, putting as much steel as I can into my voice.
“It’s the blonde girl in the short pink dress, up front on the right,” he says with a deep sigh. He clearly thinks this is a horrible idea, and he’s probably right. Maybe I should wait until tomorrow when I’ve had time to process my emotions and calm down a bit, but something in me is telling me it has to be now. If this is a mistake, it’s mine to make. And oh boy, am I going to make it.
“Thanks.” I turn toward the stage and make my way over to where Logan said she’d be. Sure enough, there she is. The same girl from the picture. She’s even prettier in person, and I hate her even more. I could never compete with her perfection. I’m pretty enough, I guess. I have long, wavy, almost-black hair, and people tell me my blue eyes are pretty a lot. I’m not every man’s fantasy come to life like her, though.
I pretend to bump into her so I can have an opening to talk to her. I accidentally step on her toes in the process, and she lifts her foot in surprise. Too bad it wasn’t my stiletto heel digging into her foot.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I say in a breathy voice because my heart is racing, making it hard to breathe. I’ve never done anything like this before, and I don’t know where I’m going with this act. I watch her eyes, waiting to see if there’s a moment of recognition. But there’s nothing. She clearly has no idea who I am. Do I just outright tell her that I’m Brandon’s girlfriend? Would she even believe me? It’s not like I can go drag him off the stage to vouch for me. Should I wait until he has a break in his set to make the big reveal?
“No problem,” she says with a girlish laugh. She leans away from me with a wary look on her face, and I realize I’m still standing way too close and take a step back.
I need to find a way to talk to her… A compliment maybe? Igive her a quick up-and-down look. She has smooth, toned legs that are tanned to perfection. Her hair is long and shiny, and her makeup looks like it was done by a professional. Call me a bitter shrew, but I don’t want to complimenther, per se. She probably gets enough of that already, anyway.
“Oh my gosh, I love your dress!” I say. I don’t actually love it. It’s not my style at all. I’m sure plenty of people do love it, though. I can see that it’s good quality.
“Thanks! My boyfriend bought it for me and surprised me with it earlier!” What a tramp! She has a boyfriend? And she’s wearing the dress he bought her while she’s cheating on him. Poor guy is going to be just as heartbroken as I am.
“How cute! Who is he?” I ask, looking around the crowd. Maybe I can go grab him and let him know his girl is a two-timing, no good… She laughs and points to the stage, right where Brandon is standing. Surely she’s not saying what I think she’s saying.
“Who?” I ask, because I have to be mistaken about the direction of her pointed finger.
“Him… The singer of the band.”
“The singer is your boyfriend?” I ask. My voice is shaky. I’m going to be sick. I assumed that she was just another groupie or something and they had just met tonight. I thought she was just a little one-night fling. I’m clearly wrong.
The current song ends, and the roar of the crowd almost splits my head in two. And then I hear Brandon’s deep baritone in the microphone.
“Lacy Roberts! Will you please come up here?” he says, his voice full of adoration that I’ve never once heard from him while he talks to me. The bubbly blonde next to me—Lacy, I presume—makes an excited squeaky sound before her long, tan legs carry her up onto the stage.
One of Brandon’s band members takes his guitar from him,and Lacy stands right in front of him, holding both of his hands. Lacy beams up at him as if he hung the moon in her sky. Brandon makes some grand speech to her that has the crowd ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing,’ but I don’t hear any of it over the hum in my ears and the racing of my heart.
Logan rushes up to me, wraps an arm around my shoulders, and turns me away from the scene happening up on the stage. He makes comforting sounds and rubs my arms. He’s oh-so tender, just like his sister. I sway on my feet, and Logan pulls me in closer to his side to keep me from collapsing.
I turn back around, but Logan moves to block my view. I push him out of the way, and my eyes land on the scene that now has everyone in the crowd completely transfixed. Brandon is down on one knee in front of Lacy, holding out a tiny little box that is most definitely holding a tiny little ring that will slide onto her tiny little finger.
“I’m sorry, Ellis,” Logan says. The misery in his voice almost matches the misery in my heart.
“It’s okay,” I say, but it comes out all muffled. My vision is suddenly very blurry, so I blink a few times to clear it up. The crowd around us erupts into cheers and applause as the happy couple shares a celebratory kiss that lasts way too long. Brandon’s band member gives him back his guitar, and they prepare to play another song—a song he’s dedicating to his new fiancée. A song that I helped write last year when Brandon was having “writer’s block.” He always has writer’s block.
“Ah, crap. Are you crying?” Logan asks, sounding very put out by my display of emotions. You think he’d be used to it since he lives with his sister.
“No, of course not!” I shout at him. I swipe a hand at my cheek to hide the evidence, but there are now so many tears coming down in such a rapid succession that there’s nocovering it up. Dang it! This is exactly what I did not want to do!
Lacy makes her way off the stage, and Brandon’s eyes follow her the entire time until she once again stands right next to me. And that’s when Brandon finally notices me in the crowd. His eyes widen in alarm, and his mouth opens and closes several times as he tries to figure out what to do. He’s supposed to be singing now, but he’s no longer paying attention to the song. The band loops around to the beginning of the intro, hoping he comes in this time.
I cross my arms across my chest and raise a questioning eyebrow at him. I’m very tempted to grab a drink from a nearby table and throw it at his head. Or march myself onto the stage and punch him in the face. But I don’t want to be arrested for assault tonight on top of everything else, so I simply turn and walk away. Logan moves to follow me, and he’s uttering comforting words in my ear as we walk through the crowd.
The bouncer sees my tear-streaked face and mutters, “I hate this job,” under his breath as I storm through the door. I stand in the parking lot, completely stunned. I don’t want to be here anymore. I would rather be anywhere else than here, where surely Brandon’s melodic voice will start pouring through the speakers again any second now.
I spin around in a circle, trying to remember where I parked my car so I can get in it and hightail it out of here. I don’t see it anywhere.
Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?
I start walking in whatever direction I happen to be facing, but no, I’m pretty sure I parked it on the other side of the parking lot. I change directions to go that way instead. The heels of my boots are clomping loudly on the pavement. I lovethe sound. It appropriately represents the rage I’m feeling inside.
Logan rushes up behind me and grabs my shoulders to stop my frantic movements. He spins me around and wraps me in a hug, and I finally calm down enough to let him attempt to comfort me. I bury my face in his chest and take deep breaths. It’s not the hug I crave the most, but it’ll do for now.
