Be My Bad Boy

“Yes, sir," I said giving him a salute.

He left the room and I looked around. Oh, someone had left some beer behind. I decided to drink it. After all, who was he to tell me not to drink? I could drink if I wanted to. He wasn't the boss of me.

Making a fool of myself? Hadn’t that been my plan. To make them think I was a dingbat. I should go out there and show them just how dingbat I could be. Except I felt a little sleepy. They'd left their jackets and stuff on the bench in the corner. I could just curl up there and have a little nap until they were ready to tell me how to get home.
The next thing I knew there were voices. Voices in my dream? No, outside me.
"What are we going to do with her?”
“She hasn't thrown up on my coat has she? Because if she has, I'll kill her."
"No, she's fine. She's just resting. We'll have to take her with us. Unless you want to go through her bag and find her address."

I wanted to sit up and tell them I was fine and I knew my own address but it seemed like such an effort to move and I could tell them after I finished sleeping.
"Come on, Hannah. The bar’s closing."
"Great manager, huh. She flakes after a few drinks." That was Ashley's voice.
"Like you can talk, Ash. Remember that time you threw up after the gig down the coast. Miserablest bastard alive in the van on the way back. ‘Stop the car, stop the car…’ And those cocktails looked a bit lethal."
I silently thanked Jake and tried to get myself to sit up. If they let me sleep for little bit longer, I’d be okay.

"We’ll get some coffee into her when we get home and she’ll sober up.”
“Coffee!" I sat up. "Did someone say coffee?"
The next thing I knew, strong arms wrapped around me and lifted me.
"Can you walk?"
I nodded but I wasn't really sure. I leaned in against his warm, strong chest. In his arms, I felt safe and happy. But they were mean and kept making me move around and then we were outside and it was cold and I felt a coat being wrapped around my shoulders. I slumped against something that I thought was a wall but it moved. And then we were in car and we were going somewhere and the lights of the city looked pretty and blurry as I pressed my face against the cold glass. When we crossed the river, I wanted to tell them we were going the wrong way. I didn't live across the river. Not anymore. I lived in… where did I live?
By the time the taxi pulled up, my head had cleared and I could walk on my own.
"Whose place is this?" I asked.

"Mine," said Jinxx. "Mine and Andy's."
If I’d thought about where they lived, I’d have expected something much grungier than this. We walked into a huge, open living area with a pair of massive sofas and a large screen TV. To one side, was an open kitchen area and to the other side French doors opening out to a small courtyard. This definitely was not the type of place you could afford on a struggling rock star’s income. This was some prime industrial chic real estate. And they said they didn’t have the money to buy out the contract.
"Want a drink?" Jake asked.

"There was talk of coffee," I replied.
Then the doorbell rang and people piled into the apartment. Jake disappeared for a while and came back with more promises of coffee.
I sat on the sofa, still feeling a bit out of it. While I’d sobered up a bit, my head felt groggy and heavy.

There were about 20 people in the room with more coming in behind them. Lots of noise and laughing. I didn’t want to move from the couch. Even if I wanted to go home, I still had no idea how to get there and now the trains would’ve stopped running.
I clutched my bag to myself and hoped Jake would return soon with my coffee.
I did parties. I did parties like nobody’s business. I made chitchat and air kissed and I could be fun. But I didn’t know parties like this. Full of strangers and conversations I had no part of. None of these people knew who I was. None of them cared.
The shrieking laughter made my head hurt. I looked around and noticed two girls glimpsing at me and laughing. People behind me talked about things that meant nothing to me, like they spoke some kind of foreign language. I didn’t have to even attempt conversation to know that this year’s fashion collection would NOT be appropriate.

I searched through my bag for my phone. Not that I expected anyone to call or message me, but it would give me something to do. Maybe I should message Angie and tell her to get over here. She’d be great at a party like this, for sure. But then maybe she wasn’t here for a reason. I didn’t know her well enough to just casually invite her to someone else’s party and, oh yeah, I didn’t know the address.
“How are you feeling?"
Andy put a mug of coffee on the table beside me and sat down on the other side of the couch.
"Fine. I’m totally fine," I said. I sat up straighter and pulled my dress down around my knees. I noticed I’d spilt something on it and tried to adjust myself to hide it.
He just raised an eyebrow.

I hadn’t said anything stupid, had I? I wanted to tell him how great he’d been on stage and how his music made me feel. If only I could get the words together right but, before I could say anything, a guy in ripped jeans sat down on the other couch.
I picked up my coffee. Ah, coffee. My friend. Just the smell made me feel better. Then I took a sip.
Oh. My. God.
That was maybe the grossest thing I’d ever had in my mouth.
"What the hell is this?"
Maybe Andy had done it on purpose. As a gag. Make the worst coffee ever then laugh at me when I drank it.
But he wasn’t laughing. Not at me. He and the other guy kept talking.
"What about that chick after the gig, mate? She wanted a piece of you."
"Her and the rest of them. It’s always the same thing. ‘You were so great up there. The way you played touched me deep inside. No one’s made me feel like that’."
He imitated her in a high-pitched voice.

Did guys really talk like that about women? Guys like this obviously did. What pigs. I crossed "be nice to Andy Biersack" off my mental to-do list. The bad taste in my mouth wasn’t just from that disgusting coffee.
"The worst thing is, afterwards they think they own you."
"It’s about the music, right," Ripped Jeans added. "Chicks just hold you back."
I gave Ripped Jeans a sweeping look. I don’t think many women would be in a hurry to hold him back. Not in that way, anyway.
"You coming?" Ripped Jeans nodded his head at a door near the kitchen. It looked like it led to the bathroom.

He got up and Andy followed him.
Whoa, he’s gay? Poor Angie. She had no chance. It did explain all the misogynist chat.
He hated woman and batted for the other team. Though no gay guy I’d ever met talked about women like that.
I curled up on the couch, hoping everyone would shut up and let me sleep.
Then it hit me. They weren’t gay. The bathroom thing plus rock party. I’d seen movies. I knew what went down.
No matter how badly I needed the money, I had no intention of getting mixed up with a bunch of junkie rockers.
I marched to the bathroom, expecting to see a scene of carnage. People lolling around in a drag crazed stupor with needles hanging out of their arms. Blank eyes and drooling mouths. Razor blades and blood, all thrown together in a gritty black and white montage.
But Andy couldn’t be a junkie, surely. He was far too hot and sexy looking. Junkies were pale and pathetic. Kind of like vampires without the fangs. I’m pretty sure they didn’t have a V.
I smashed the door open, ignoring the voice screaming in my head for me to stop. Nothing I saw in there would do me any good.
Someone clutched my wrist and I swung around.
"Hannah, I don’t think you want to go in there." Jinxx looked at me with concern.
I’d seen it though. A chick with long black hair leaning over the sink snorting something; a few others including Andy standing around. There were definitely drugs being done in there but nothing like I’d imagined. No needles. No crazy-eyed stares. No black and white.
Jinxx pulled me away.
"It’s nothing, Hannah. It’s just a bit of party fun. It’s not like we do this every day."
I hadn’t said anything but I must have had disapproval all over my face.

Notes

Idk why but whenever I tried to read Chapter 13 it kept sending me to chapter 8, so I reposted it. Did this happen to anyone else?