Chapter 1 #2
“U-um,” I stammered, trying to piece my thoughts together as I stepped into the empty space at the bar, sliding my empty glass towards her. “M-my tab. Do you mind checking if it's closed out?”
“Sure thing! What's the name?”
“Toby. Toby Campbell.”
“Got it. One sec.”
I nibbled on my fingernail while I waited, tapping my right hand nervously against the bar over and over again.
I was trying to ignore the feeling that everyone was secretly watching me, judging the way I was dealing with the aftermath of that embarrassing argument I’d had in the middle of the dance floor, so I just bobbed my head slightly to the music, trying to play it off and look like I was fine.
When I finally got the nerve to look up, no one was looking at me.
They were all grinding against each other or leaning in to listen to whatever riveting conversation they were part of.
No one cared about me. Being alone was… lonely, so I ran my fingers through my hair and turned back around to lean my elbows on the bar to press my thumbs into the bridge of my nose, abandoning the view of the dance floor.
I glanced over to see a girl a few seats down, her mouth only barely open as she leaned forward, licking her lips once, and my stomach fluttered when she tenderly reached for her friend’s face.
The kiss was tender for only a moment, then they pressed into each other harder, and the way their lips moved made me wonder what it would feel like if—
“No tab with that name. Looks like you’re already closed out!” I jumped and whipped my head up towards the bartender as if I’d been caught doing something bad, but she seemed unfazed. “Did you want something to drink anyway?”
“A painkiller, if you would,” I said, giving her a weak smile as I tried to force out a laugh, but my throat was bone dry so it just sounded like I choked. She turned around without so much as a smile back.
Alright. Guess she thinks I'm annoying, too.
I shifted my weight from one achy foot to the other, looking down at the black high heels I’d worn for Toby.
The first night I met him, he’d said that these were his favorite, so I’d made a point to wear them every day since.
Almost two months worth of three-inch heels was finally catching up to me, though, and I was tired.
If I set my forehead down on my arm, I knew I’d be asleep before the bartender came back with my drink, but I didn’t want to go home yet.
I wasn’t ready. Once I did, I would be alone with my thoughts, and the inside of my head was too dark of a place to be alone with right now.
My heart leapt in my chest when I thought I felt my phone buzz in my back pocket, and I hoped against my better judgement that it was Toby.
Maybe he had just gone to the bathroom! Or maybe he just went outside to get some fresh air and cool off!
Yeah. That was probably it. I probably read the situation wrong—again.
I was always doing that. But there were no notifications when I turned on the screen.
Just a clock that read a few minutes to midnight.
Oh.
I tried to ignore the tugging in my chest that told me to text him. The phantom vibration was a sign…
No, I couldn’t. It was too soon. If I sent him anything at all, it would just reinforce the idea that I’m clingy and overbearing, and he needed time to cool off.
I was thinking about how we’d get past then when I realized my fingers had gone on autopilot, unlocking my phone and typing out something.
Before I had time to think about it, my thumb pressed send out of habit, and all I could do was watch the text bubble appear on the screen as my stomach fell through the floor.
Hey. I'm sorry about tonight.
I was just being stupid.
I didn’t even have time to put a name to the emotions I was feeling before the bubble changed from blue to green, and I sucked in a sharp breath at the realization. That asshole had blocked me.
“Are you kidding me!?” I muttered, glaring at my phone before stuffing back into my pocket.
Honestly, out of every man I’d ever managed to scare off, none of them had ever blocked me right away. I was almost impressed if I wasn't so fucking angry about it. And hurt. Even if I didn't want to admit it.
My eyes angrily scanned the room as I clenched my teeth together, looking for something—anything—to take my mind off Toby.
Girls in short skirts and crop tops danced in small groups while lone men prowled around the edges of the crowd, wild cats looking to pounce on their next meal.
But even in the chaos, there was a sense of logic to it all.
Everyone fit in here but me. Everyone else had a place where they belonged.
I looked down at my feet when my eye caught more people kissing.
Not because I was embarrassed, but because it was like they were doing it on purpose to spite me.
To rub it in my face. Swallowing down my feelings was like swallowing razor blades, and I bit my tongue hard enough to distract from the ache of it all until the taste of iron filled my mouth.
Maybe I was sad, or maybe I was just annoyed with myself for acting so immature, but there wasn’t a single person here who knew me, and if I was being honest… I felt invisible.
“Pain killer?” A male bartender said suddenly, drawing my attention back to reality, and I turned my head to see him sliding the drink in my direction before he ran off to deliver another one to someone else.
“Thanks,” I whispered to the empty space his body had just vacated.
I sighed as I turned back around, leaning against the edge of the bar as I took a long sip of my drink.
The liquor burned my throat the whole way down, and the cold snaked into my stomach as it chased the pain away, just like I’d hoped it would.
I tried to smile, but it felt wrong.
I had spent years trying to convince men that I was worth loving by pretending to be something or someone I wasn’t, and I was tired.
How many more times could I do this before it became too much?
How many more times would I try to morph myself into the girl of his dreams, just to be tossed aside like garbage?
I blinked away more tears, and took a deep breath in, lifting my eyes to the second floor of the club to try finding someone cute to stare at.
I expected to see more bodies dancing—more people throwing back drinks and making friends with strangers—but my eyes snagged on a man staring directly at me and I choked on my drink.
He was leaned nonchalantly over the railing with his forearms pressed against the metal bannister, both hands clasped together.
We hadn’t accidentally locked eyes. It was intentional, and the implication swallowed me whole.
He had an air of someone who had all the time in the world.
Why would he spend it staring at me? Was he watching me cry?
Had he seen the whole thing? I didn’t know, but I couldn’t look away.
My failed romantic past blurred into nothingness until the only thought I could form was that he was the perfect distraction.
My fingers ached to run through his shoulder-length red hair.
The shaggy layers were too perfect, and the wavy locks were begging for someone to mess them up.
I didn’t hear the music anymore. Everything had faded away until all I could hear was the thudding in my ears as heat crept up my neck.
Time stood still as I stared at this strange man, his gaze devouring me like prey.
I should have been scared—normal people probably would have been if some random guy was watching them this closely—but every atom of my body ached for his attention.
I don’t know how long I stood there until reality came back into focus, but when my brain finally kicked into gear, I raised an eyebrow at him and cocked my head to the side as I smirked.
He didn’t move a single muscle in response, but if he needed permission to come talk to me, I would gladly give it.
I needed him to acknowledge me somehow—a smile, a wave; anything, but the way he stared at me was intriguing enough, and my body responded to him until every nerve ending was on fire.
I wasn’t sure how to name this feeling, but it almost felt as if he had caught a glimpse of the darkest parts of my soul… and liked what he saw.
My blood went hot as my pulse quickened to a gallop, and my cheeks flushed even redder, but I refused to look away.
I always reveled in the feeling of being admired, so I boldly made sure he knew the feeling was mutual as I examined the edges of his perfectly tailored black suit jacket.
The flashing club lights kept catching the silver rings adorning most of his fingers, and I licked my lips at the thought of what his hands would do to me if they had the chance.
I stared back until self-consciousness crept into the corners of my confidence, then I broke our gaze to focus on the drink in my hands, smirking.
When I finally got the nerve to look back up again, he was gone.
My heart stuttered as I stared at the empty space on the balcony, and my mind raced as I struggled with what to do next.
Was he coming down here to talk to me? Did he want me to chase after him?
Should I try to get everyone to look for him before he leaves?
I shook my head and scrunched my eyes shut, trying to clear my thoughts.
Why did I always do this? But this time was different.
I knew it deep down, so I opened my eyes and frantically looked around, trying to spot the man’s unnaturally dark cherry-red hair, but all I found were the same groups of people from before.
When I spotted the bartender heading my way again, an idea popped into my head.
“Hey!” I shouted, flagging her down. “This is totally random, but have you served a guy with cherry-red hair? He was just up there on the balcony.”
She glanced once in the direction I was pointing, then shook her head. “No, sorry."
“Are you sure? You don’t know anyone who has like, emo, shoulder-length red hair and wears a black suit? Silver rings? Way too dark and handsome to be in a club like this?”
She narrowed her eyes at me as if I was bothering her, and frowned. “I’m sure.”
“Okay,” I winced as she walked away, realizing she must’ve taken that as an insult. “Sorry!” I called after her, but she didn’t turn back around.
My heart tugged my attention back to the balcony, pounding so hard that I struggled to catch my breath, and emotions swirled around inside my head. Was I really going to do this? My feet started walking towards the staircase, and I realized I had no other choice.
I had to find him.