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“No thank you. Now, get your slimy hands off of me.” I seethe.
“That’s no way to talk to your elders, you brat.” It’s purely reflex what comes next. I drop my drink to the floor and use the distraction to grab ahold of Jared’s shoulder and kick him in the nuts. He’s on the floor a second later, writhing in pain. The commotion causes a few people to look but they turn away. I guess they figured he passed out drunk. Lana rushes over to me as I step around Jared’s pathetic body on the ground. I’ve never been more thankful that I took that stupid self-defense class. I thought it was a waste of time but it sure as fuck came in handy.
“What the hell just happened?” Lana questions. I shrug my shoulders and walk back up to the bartender.
“He just passed out and took my drink with him. Mind making me another?” I look at Lana and she’s staring at Jared on the floor. Maybe he did pass out after all. A smile tugs at my lips and I couldn’t be prouder of myself.
“Not a problem.” He moves about the bar making me another drink. I’m already feeling the effects of the shots. I shouldn’t be drinking more, but after what just happened, I need another distraction. He comes backwith a fresh drink and sets it in front of me.
“Thank you.” I give him my card to keep the tab open and we move away, looking for a table. Lana points to the corner and I follow behind her, glancing again at the woman on stage. I chuckle and contemplate if I should get up there and let loose.
“That guy looked like a creep back there. Are you okay?” she asks.
“Yeah, just some asshat. Anyways, I was thinking maybe I want to get up there and sing something.” Lana looks at me over her beer, shocked.
“Are you serious right now?” she asks.
“Hell yes! I need to get out of my head, and I need to get over this shit I have with the old band. I want to be free and happy,” I confess, slamming my drink down on the table.
“I think you need to slow down on your drinks!” she exclaims.
“No, no, no! I don’t feel a thing,” I lie. “Let’s go look at the book of songs. Do you want to sing?”
“Hell no! I don’t do karaoke! But I’ll sit here and cheer you on for sure,” Lana shrugs her shoulders but maybe I’ll be able to get her to sing later on. I hop up from our booth and skip back to the bar. The bartender was watching me the whole time so he’s at the end of the bar when I get over to him.
“Can I see the song book?” I ask with a sway of my hips. Thankfully, the next person to take the stage can sing in the right keys. They sound like they come here just for this opportunity.
“Here you go, darlin’,” He drawls. I can’t place his accent, but I know he isn’t from here. Hmm, just like me. I’m a transplant. I slide the book over in front ofme and begin looking through the pages. I don’t really know what I’m looking for. I guess I’ll know it when I see it. I feel a buzz in my pocket. Wondering if it’s Lana telling me what to sing, I pull it out.
Unknown:This is Sebastian. I got some more information for you.
I roll my eyes. Of course, he would text me right now. I contemplate ignoring him, but I know that will just lead to more messages. I go to type, but the keys come up a bit blurry. I hesitate for a moment wondering what I should say.
Stormy:Stormy isn’t available right now.
I save his number in my phone, and I have to laugh.
Daddy:Stormy, what are you doing?
Stormy:I’m living my life! Lana and I needed drinks. Well, more me, but I can’t fly solo so here we are. Oh, I ran into your ol’ pal Jared. He’s the real winner, that one.
Daddy:Stormy, where the hell are you? Did he touch you?
I laugh at his stern voice I can hear as I read his text.
Daddy:Tell me where you are, Angel.
Stormy:Why? Are you going to come and sing with me? I forgot what this place is called. Tipsy Topsy Turvy something or other. Got to go.
Daddy:I’m coming for you.
I slide my phone back in my pocket without registering what he just said. I motion for the bartender to come back, and he nods his head. I take a large gulp of my tea and relish the taste. I haven’t had one of these in a long time. In the back of my head, I know this is abad idea. I shouldn’t be drinking this much after taking anxiety medication. But it doesn’t stop me. I don’t want this weight on my shoulders tonight. The bartender comes back over when I’m deep in thought.
“Did you decide on a song?” he asks.
“My Immortalby Evanescence,” I point to the song number and hand him the book. He nods and I scoot off the bar stool and head back toward Lana.
“Did you pick out a song?” she asks.
