Chapter Two
T he muggy, sticky air clung to my club clothes, pools of sweat sticking to the back of my neck. The smell of stale rain stained the asphalt and left no promise to cool the summer air. It had been a treacherous pattern since June. So much so that my black, skin-tight dress started to soak in sweat no matter how short of a time I stayed outside.
New York City was buzzing with activity, more so than any other night. Crowds of young teens flooded the streets to get in line for the final concert of the SummerFest season, myself included. My friends, Jeremy and Nickie, stood by me, basking in the same energy, excited to end the summer on a high note.
It was the last summer before we headed in different directions come fall. Nickie had decided to take a year off, and Jeremy chose New York University. His parents weren’t thrilled with the idea of him skipping out on an Ivy League school, but Jeremy never stuck with the status quo. Granted, we’d continue in the city for school, but in distant parts. As for seeing each other, my mother had made it clear that Nickie was not welcome.
“Earth to Rem?” called Jeremy, waving a hand in front of my face.
I began to refocus. “Sorry, just thinking about how much sweat is ruining my clothes.”
“I can feel my balls sticking together as we speak,” he confessed.
I pretended to gag. “Ugh, gross!”
“I think we can begin the drinking now,” said Nickie, diving deep into her bra to retrieve the small silver flask.
She was just about to take a sip when Jeremy snatched it from her grasp, his face twisted in disgust. “Eww, it’s warm from your tits.” He wiped his hands down my exposed arm, and I almost swung at his head.
“Seriously?” I snapped.
“Boob sweat makes me gag,” he said.
“But your balls sticking to you didn’t make me?”
Twisting the cap off the silver flask, Jeremy took a deep sip of whatever mixed drink Nickie had created before handing it back to her. “I need something stronger; I can’t feel the burn anymore.” His tight, black leather pants and a black fishnet shirt perfectly matched the club’s aesthetic. Jeremy’s hair was gelled to a trendy style, and his eyeliner began to run from the heat. My parents loved Jeremy to the point that they gave him an all-expenses-paid trip to Italy, his favorite country, as a gift for graduating.
“Maybe you should stop drinking every night,” snickered Nickie, taking a swig more than Jeremy. Nothing screamed sex appeal like Nickie’s low-cut black top and mini skirt, with tattoos covering most of her arms. One of her many features attracted the rock band members’ eyes every time we attended these events. And it was one of the many things my mother hated about Nickie. Nickie knew she disliked her and made it a point to piss off my mom any way she could—especially with her cross tattoos. My mother’s disdain for anything related to church or God ran deeper than the Nile River but remained a mystery, and, honestly, I didn’t care why.
“Maybe you should stop drinking every night,” he mimicked in a botched version of her voice.
Flipping him off, she shoved the flask in my direction. “Here, Remi, drown your sorrows like the rest of us.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” I said before joining them in their alcoholic stupor. The liquor hit my taste buds like I shoved a packet of pop rocks in my mouth. The flavor intensified as I swallowed it willingly, burning into my empty stomach. It was sweet, with a sour aftertaste, making it more addictive. I greedily took another long sip, getting a couple of angry comments from my friends to save some.
I’m going to regret this later.
We shuffled forward, stopping again just past an alleyway with trashcans overflowing with papers and half-eaten sandwiches. The stench of cigarettes and something rotting made my stomach turn, the alcohol fighting to come back up.
I needed to remind myself to eat before parties like this. Then again, it was best if I had an empty stomach.
“What’s taking so long?” complained Nickie as she fanned her face.
“Last night of the season, so it’s expected,” Jeremy reminded her.
“Yeah, well. I’m hot, and my tits are pooling with sweat.”
“Do you honestly think it would be any better inside? It’s packed tonight.”
Nickie shrugged and said, “At least there’s AC.” She staggered off the curb, her heel catching in the drainage, almost twisting her ankle.
“Somebody’s already wasted,” said someone from behind us.
The crowd got a little rowdy after their showdown. Nickie flipped them off and yelled a string of profanities before Jeremy and I helped her get unstuck as she continued to yell at the guy behind us. Eventually, he got bitched out by a bunch of girls behind him, making Nickie the ultimate winner.
“What a douche,” she sneered.
“Oh, yeah, you showed him,” I said sarcastically. Jeremy snickered beside me and then patted her head like a little kid. She shrugged him off and gave us both the middle finger.
After a few mishaps, we finally inched our way to the front, excited to start the night.
Booking anything from underground rock bands to B-list mainstream pop, Electric Haze in downtown Manhattan was the place to be, especially during SummerFest. This year’s lineup was dedicated to all new and upcoming artists, and as long as I kept drinking from the flask, I was guaranteed a good time.
From our view, we could see flashing lights just beyond the entrance, the bass thumping hard. My excitement escalated, and I couldn’t wait to get on the dance floor.
Nickie hid the flask back in her bra, adjusting it until her boobs were almost hanging out. A playful wink from her as we approached the front doors, and we spoke with the bouncer, who happened to be Trevor Stiles from our high school’s football team. We paid our entry fee, he stamped our hands for being under twenty-one, and we slithered inside, moving with the crowd ahead of us. Nickie slipped the flask back out, taking her second sip of the night.
“Hey, save some for the rest of us, you heathen,” said Jeremy, ripping the flask from her hands.
She adjusted herself by loosening up a couple more buttons on her tight shirt. “Chill, drama queen. There’s plenty of liquid gold to go around.” She gave a little shake of her boobs and quickly ran her fingers through her hair.
Nickie handed me the flask again, and I took a greedy sip. “Whatever you did this time, the taste is incredible.”
She gave me a wink. “I got connections.”
Whatever that meant, I linked my arm with hers and Jeremy’s, strutting inside to the sound of some techno beat.
The club’s atmosphere always gave me the biggest rush. The music’s vibrations from the speakers pulsated my eardrums as the alcohol entered my bloodstream. People all around me, dressed in similar attire, some more scandalous than others, moved with the music as a prism of colors flashed in and out of tiny lights above the empty stage while the crowd waited for the next act. Hot stage lights and sweaty bodies collided as Jeremy, Nickie, and I approached the front. Hypnotic sounds matched the tempo to some of the strobe lights stationed around the dance floor, beckoning us forward.
But not before I went to pee.
“Girl, you have the bladder of a squirrel, I swear,” commented Jeremy.
Nickie secured our spots at the front and gave anyone who tried to invade our space a dirty look.
“Hurry, princess. These girls tonight are fucking catty,” she said.
I gave them both a shut-up-I-know look before joining the wave of people until I ended up next to a small line of other females waiting their turn to use the toilet.
Tapping my foot to the beat, I observed each group that mingled, laughed, and flirted with others. I would miss these nights, especially ones where you knew someone would go home wasted and regret everything. Those were always the best stories to tell.
Every couple of minutes, the line would inch closer, and I noticed my vision seemed skewed. The colors from various strobe lights displayed throughout the room started to pulsate, and some even began to float away in little balls. I suddenly wanted to reach out and catch one, to know what it felt like.
It hit me that very moment that I was experiencing a drug trip, one that I hadn’t taken part in since the beginning of the summer.
The more I saw the floating colored balls, the faster they moved. Up, down, left, right, swirling and twirling. I stepped out of my place in line, trying to capture the pretty objects, when a male’s voice rang loudly in my ear.
“Come on. The crowd is getting impatient.” The next thing I knew, someone barreled right into my side, knocking me off balance, the floating balls dropping to the floor just as I did.
“Oh, crap! Sorry!”
My mind and body were surfing on a white puffy cloud, completely unbothered by what had just happened. The balls began to float again; this time, they circled my head and someone else. A man. A beautiful man.
His brown, curly hair, a messy mop on top, and blue eyes that sparkled under the fluorescent lights delivered an apologetic smile as the intense strobe light colors surrounded his head, giving him an angelic silhouette.
Those baby blue eyes were captivating, and all I could do was stare with my mouth slightly agape. I could jump his bones right now and nobody would give a shit.
“I’m so sorry,” he said again. His words came out all warped, making me laugh. I noticed something shiny on his earlobe, possibly a little earring, but all it did was sparkle in a weird shape.
“Josh, come on! We’re on next!” somebody shouted from behind us. The one named Josh loosened his hold on my arm, a torn look on his face as if he were debating whether to leave or stay. That touch sent waves of electricity throughout my body, making me squirm. Or maybe it was the drugs causing the weird feelings. The balls around his head started to change their form. Swirls and exotic patterns zigzagged and wiggled on the walls behind him.
“I’m fine. Go ahead,” I said. My voice was two octaves too high, as if the colors of the rainbow were spewing from my mouth.
Can he tell I’m tripping balls right now?
He nodded once and stalked off to the stage, disrupting the strange pattern on the wall, but not without looking back once more to double-check my well-being.
And I still had to pee. Shit. How am I going to do this?
By now, the line had dwindled to a couple of girls, and their lack of attention allowed me to sneak right inside, locking the door tightly. Their shrill voices of protest and pounding knuckles on the other side made me giggle uncontrollably.
Now for the hard part.
Inside, the bathroom smelt of cheap soap and marijuana. Graffiti all over the walls started to jump out at me, and even the toilet warped.
I swayed a bit, trying to steady myself. “Shit.”
Another set of fists pounded on the door. “Hurry up!”
The struggle to slide my underwear down to my ankles from underneath my tight dress and sit on the toilet took longer than expected, or maybe shorter; my concept of time was fully lacking. Judging by the bitching outside the bathroom, my guess would be longer.
I tried to judge which way the toilet moved until my ass hit the porcelain seat hard, shaking the backing loose. The relief of peeing had me sighing loudly, and I cleaned myself up for what seemed like an eternity, smothering my hands in the cheap soap. As I strutted out of the bathroom, the line of girls called me inappropriate names, so I waved obnoxiously back to them, sending them into a tizzy.
Finally, I was back with my friends near the front of the stage before the first act.
“Did you fall in?” joked Nickie. The room spun slowly, making my mind go a little hazy.
I nudged her shoulder playfully. “Shut up and give me that flask!” Nickie held the shiny object out of reach.
“What gives?” I shouted, trying but failing to steal it.
“Trust me, you’ve had enough,” she warned with a lazy smile, her eyes half closed.
“You think she knows?” Jeremy called Nickie over my head.
“Oh, she definitely does.”
Their vague conversation held no interest for me, as all the lights went down, and the background music stopped.
A microphone screeched on, and a female’s voice filled the quiet room. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to another year of Summerfest!”
The room erupted with whistles and screams of excitement.
“Now, we have a few new bands tonight, and some returning favorites. So, without further ado, please welcome to the stage for the first time, Gods Sacrifice!”
Multi-colored lights danced feverishly across the stage, changing in hue and intensity until finally shedding an intense white light on each of the five black-clad men standing center stage. The band before us, called Gods Sacrifice, had red paint splattered on their band’s logo on the backdrop behind the drummer. The lead singer’s dark and seductive voice sang the lyrics to an unfamiliar song, pointing at a fan in the crowd as she screamed, “I love you!”
The exact lead singer I collided with by the entrance of the bathrooms.
Josh.
My eyes laser-focused on him; I watched the vibrant colors switch to deep blues and purples, changing the club’s vibe.
“My God, he’s so hot!” screamed Nickie in my right ear.
I kept my mouth shut, mesmerized by how he moved along the small stage, using every inch to sing the lyrics. Even with my trip down the psychedelic drug lane, I knew his features were temptations.
“You can say that again!” agreed Jeremy.
Nickie shook her head. “I call dibs!” She punched his arm playfully before snagging the flask out of his hands and taking a big sip.
“Let me dream, bitch!” he said as he bumped her hip.
Nickie tossed him back the flask and rolled her eyes. “Ha, sure.”
The band began to change their tempo, a slower sound than the chaotic one we heard when we first arrived. Jeremy put his arm around me, lifting a lighter in the air. Nickie leaned closer to the stage, exposing her lady parts to all. Josh would look at them occasionally, eyeing her up and down, utterly aware of her goodies out on display.
With his brown hair pushed back from the sweat on his forehead, Josh knelt right in front of Nickie, putting his finger under her chin, singing to only her. Her eyes sparkled as if she saw the stars for the first time.
“Looks like she’s taking another home,” I told Jeremy. My voice was laced with jealousy.
“Are we surprised?” He snorted, completely missing the venom in my words.
No, I wasn’t. And I didn’t know why that bothered me so much.
Maybe he realized my drug trip and didn’t want to take advantage of me. Or they thought I was a total mess and refused to get caught up in my scandalous ass, which was probably for the best.
Josh grabbed Nickie by the hand to help her on stage. The crowd began to cheer uncontrollably, and Nickie adjusted as she stood, smoothing out her short, black skirt, taking one step forward to the mic, waiting to sing. Suddenly, a familiar tune began to play, their voices filling the room as they sang, the crowd losing their minds.
It wouldn’t be a SummerFest if Nickie didn’t end up on stage. And it also wouldn’t be Nickie if she didn’t go home with the lead singer. Jeremy and I began to cheer, calling her name, whistling like crazy. Lost in a haze of colors and odd shapes in the air, I let the music take control, basking in the company of my best friends.
As they continued their duet, I scanned the rest of the band members, shifting through the bright, zigzagged patterns until my eyes landed on the bass player. His copper hair was soaked with sweat like the others, and his fair skin flushed from the stage lights as his fingers moved effortlessly over the chords. He made wearing all black look hotter than ever, and I swore my stare was hypnotic when he finally looked directly at me. My heart jolted in the best way. The waves of colors flowed like the ocean between us, with Josh becoming nothing more than a bit of a hiccup.
He understood the hormones I projected, and a heavenly smirk displayed on those lips I knew I would kiss right after the show.
“Another bass player?” Jeremy snickered.
I nudged him playfully. Indeed another, and they were always so mysterious; I could never get enough. No harm no foul in finding someone else to suck face with. Besides, I had every right to have fun with no strings attached.
The show continued, different bands switching in and out, the music getting louder and darker. The ‘drugs’ hadn’t worn off yet, and I thought I would be in a never-ending loop of tripping out. The flask was finally empty by midnight, a clear sign for us to start heading back before our parents found us plastered on the side of the road. Thankfully, we all lived within walking distance and were close to each other’s homes. But I wasn’t ready to leave just yet; I had someone I needed to meet first.
After Gods Sacrifice’s set, I’d followed the hunky bass player all night, watching him mingle with other people and drink a few beers. He moved his body effortlessly and was carefree when friends approached him to talk, as if he were too cool to be there. But I wanted to be right next to him. To hang onto every word that left those lips that seemed to be in a constant pout. How he gripped his bottle of beer, played with the cap on the bar table, and laughed when someone said something funny. I became feral just watching him.
These drugs were making me unbearable.
Finally, God heard my obsessive thoughts as he began to pack up his instrument. He moved confidently; the whole room wanted his attention, including me. Hugging a few girls goodbye and giving his bandmates high fives, he slipped out the back door, my cue to sneak right by as the rest of the band was distracted by their groupies, one of them being Nickie, drooling over Josh as he slipped his arm over her shoulder.
I slipped past and was welcomed with a blast of muggy air, somewhat unbalanced as I checked my surroundings, trying to find the man I’d been obsessing over all night.