“Best perfume in the world.” Blue grins as we round another flight of stairs. I clinch the strap of my bag a little tighter. If Kam found out I was staying in a place like this he’d freak out. Then I remind myself that if nothing comes from this Chicago visit then Kam will have to stop caring about where I am and what I’m doing because technically we’d be broken up.
We finally make it up to a big green door. Blue knocks on it several times and after no answer he pulls out his cell phone.
“Yeah dickhead, where are you?” he asks impatiently.
“Well can you come and let us in?” I hear him continue but can’t hear the guy on the other end of the phone.
“Yeah, a friend and I need to stay a few days,” he says casually. My eyes almost bug out of my head.
“You didn’t tell him we were staying here?” I screech, nudging him in the chest.
“Hey, you owe me for the Indiana thing!” he says tightly.
“Blue are you serious?” I sigh. This was a bad idea, a very bad idea.
“She doesn’t have nuts, she’s a girl,” he says to his cousin, giving me an “everything is fine look,” when I know it’s anything but fine.
“It doesn’t matter if she’s hot!” he says defensively. I roll my eyes and head back down the stairs. Blue grabs my arm and pulls me back.
“It’s gonna be fine. I promise!” he pleads before putting the phone back to his ear. I watch as Blue continues to listen to his cousin yell at him on the phone
“Two days. Tops,” he promises.
“Yeah. Okay, cool. Thanks Ian,” he says before hanging up. I scowl at him.
“I cannot believe we drove hours to stay with some guy who didn’t even know that we were coming!” I yell at him. Blue shrugs me off.
“He’s my cousin. I knew he’d let us stay,” he says simply before sitting next to me. “…If we were already here,” he adds. I let out a disbelieving chuckle. All I can do is laugh at how ridiculous this is.
“It’s going to be cool. He’s just been a raging jerk since his girl left him.”
“This is already starting off bad,” I say, rubbing my temples.
“He owes me—we do this type of thing.” I roll my eyes at him and pull my hood over my head.
“So when is your dear old cousin supposed to be getting here?” I ask in frustration.
“He just said he was on his way,” he admits reluctantly. We both sit in silence listening to the loud music coming from beneath us. After a few minutes I look up and squeeze Blue’s shoulder.
“Thanks for coming,” I tell him and he winks at me.
“We need a drink?” he grumbles.
“Nah,” I tell him. I try not to drink or do any substances when my time lapses start. When you lose consciousness without even doing anything it makes you wary to do anything that alters your mind.
“You can go. I’ll be fine right here.”
“Yeah, I’m going to leave you in a strange hallway by yourself with a bunch of drunk idiots roaming the street outside. You do have a guy here who just got his heart broken in half. Move your ass,” he reminds me.
He’s right, he deserves a drink or two.
“Come on,” I relent. We head down the stairs and into the Green Room. The music is so loud that the floor is vibrating. There are several TVs with videos playing that match the music. We squeeze through the people standing around with drinks in hand and make our way to the bar. There’s two bartenders; one is a girl who looks like she’s in her early twenties wearing a blue halter top with her breasts out and hair in a top knot on her head. She’s cute and has a nose ring. Closer to our side of the bar is a guy with a white t-shirt and jeans on and a White Sox baseball cap on his head.
“Is this a bar or a club?” I ask, confused at the number of people dancing. The place is a lot bigger than it looks outside.
“What can I get you?” the bartender with the White Sox hat asks.
“A shot of Tequila, whatever’s on the house,” Blue says, then turns to me.
“A Sprite please,” I tell him.
“So what’s your cousin like?” I ask after White Sox brings our drinks.
“Uhm, he’s cool most times,” he says before downing his drink. I want to comment on how fast he did it but the guy does have a broken heart so I guess he deserves it.
“Most times?” I ask worriedly.
“He’ll like you,” he says, waving over the bartender again.
“Why do you think that?” I ask. It’s not that I’m unlikeable but it typically takes time for me to warm up to people, and I’ve been told I can come off as cold because of it.
“I like you, so why wouldn’t he?” he says with a brilliant smile.
My cheeks warm.
“Yo, bartender—another drink?” he calls out.
“Maybe you shouldn’t go so fast,” I tell him with a thin smile.
“Remember I just got dumped?” he says defensively.
“Technically I think you dumped her,” I remind him.
“For being a massive slut,” he groans, waving the bartender down again. I sigh a little and take another sip of my soda. I can tell this is going to be a very long night.
Five double shots and three dances later with girls that look eerily similar to Katie, Blue is slumped over on the bar, speaking inaudibly. I should have stopped him at the fourth one but he did just get his heart broken and I didn’t know what his alcohol tolerance was. And now I realize shot number three should have been the limit. He would have been drunk but at least coherent. What was I thinking?
“Blue can you call your cousin and see if he’s nearby?” The music is noticeably lower and most of the people have moved on to other places.
“I loved her so much,” he says, crying. But it’s the angry drunk kind with no tears.
“I know Blue, but this place is going to be closing soon and we have to get out of here,” I tell him.
“I should have kicked that guy’s ass,” he drawls and I realize that talking to him right now is a lost cause.
“Where’s your phone?” I ask.
“My what?” he says before resting his head on his arms.
“Your phone,” I repeat, starting to search his pocket. I finally find it and open his call log.
“I didn’t even lock it. That’s how much I trusted her,” he slurs. I nod my head but pat him on the back. I dial the last number he called which I assume is his cousin and it goes straight to voicemail.
I text him asking him to hurry and that his cousin is wasted.
Blue’s phone rings and I see that it’s Katie. I hit ignore and shove it in my pocket and sling Blue’s arm over my shoulder.
“Okay buddy you’re going to have to help me get you back to your cousin’s apartment,” I tell him as I try to lift him off the bar stool. He stays planted where he is.
“You’re such a good friend,” he says with a drunk goofy smile. I quickly tell him thanks.
“You need any help getting him to your car?” the bartender with the White Sox hat asks.
“No, we’re actually waiting for someone. We’ll hopefully be staying upstairs. I can drag him,” I say with a smile.