Be My Bad Boy

I returned to the bar in a shitty mood. You couldn't trust anyone nowadays. I ordered another drink. It shouldn't matter. I hadn't wanted the skirt anyway but that didn't mean I wanted someone else wearing it. Especially someone who looked awesome in it. Not more awesome than me, but still awesome. I should've put the idea out of my head. After all, there wasn't much I could do about it. I couldn't even sack the maids since they were already out of jobs. I sipped my cocktail and brooded with Andy singing a blues song to match my mood. At times, his voice had the effect of a cheese grater being run over my heart. So rough, so raw, holding out all those horrible things that people really should hide away deep inside.
It was his eyes that got people, I decided. Even from the distance of the bar, you could tell that. It felt like he could see into your soul and hunt out the hurts in there and give you comfort. I couldn't reconcile that with the man parading his cock earlier. He was the one putting the hurts in my heart to start with. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought this guy was someone I wanted to get close to.
Stupid music. Still, it was magic and, for a moment, I thought it might actually be worth working with this band.

When the band finished playing, I cheered and screamed until I noticed a few people staring at me. Maybe I’d been a bit loud, but then I’d planned to get tipsy.
Since I had no idea how to get home, I waited for the guys to pack up their gear. They could at least tell me how to get to the station. A couple of guys stood by me at the bar and offered to buy me drinks. I wouldn't say no. I felt better than I had in days. Those drinks were good. The hard edges of my world melted away in a fuzzy blur. What did I care about money and rock stars and people selling my clothes? Nothing and no one could hurt me.

How much do you need to drink to get a bit tipsy anyway? I’d not had lunch but I’d only had what 2 or 3 drinks? And the glass of wine when I came in.
When Andy and Jake came to the bar, I swung around on my stool.
"Hey, Andy baby. Hey, Jakie boo."
"You've had too much to drink," Andy said. "You should get home."
He moved in and leaned on the bar, waving at the barman to get him a beer.
"I don't know how to get home."

"You could get a taxi."
"Don't have any money to get a taxi."
He groaned.

“Don't groan at me." I wagged my finger at him. "I'm fine. You just have to tell me how to get back to the city and I'll find my way from there."
I stood up and very carefully gathered up my bag. I'd walk straight out the door. I could do that without looking drunk and I could talk very clearly without slurring my words.
"I'm fine. Fine. Don't worry about me," I said then banged into the man standing behind me.
I brushed him down.
"Sorry, sorry. Oops, why are you standing there?" I giggled. It seemed crazy funny that I'd swung around straight into this strange man.
Andy pulled my arm. "You need to sober up."
"I'm fine," I said.
He snorted like he didn't believe me. But I was fine. I just felt a bit sleepy and everything looked a bit blurry and he looked really fine in those tight leather pants. I really should tell him that. Before I could speak though, he'd grabbed me.

"You aren't going to kiss me again. I'm not your groupie. You don't need to kiss me."
I waited with my face turned towards him but he pulled my arm and dragged me across the room. I struggled but couldn’t get free of his grip on my arm.
"Stop struggling," he hissed. "You are just making a fool of yourself.”
He opened the door to the small room behind the stage and dumped me down in a chair.
"Just wait there until we are ready to leave then we’ll sort something out about getting you home.”

Notes