Second Best



You find yourself bellied up to the bar at a low rent place on the wrong side of Hollywood. It’s not the kind of place that anyone expects to see you, so no one does. That’s the reason why you like to come to places like this. Sometimes you want to get drunk and sulk in peace, but you don’t want to do it at home. That’s where the irony lies, you want to be alone. But you want to have other people around.

You’re deep into your third shot of scotch, when she enters the bar. At first you don’t recognize her. You haven’t seen her face to face in quite a while and she’s changed her style many times in the past few years. This is the last place that you would have expected to see someone like her, but then again she would probably think the same thing about you.

You know that she hasn’t seen you yet, so you contemplate not letting your presence be known. But you always felt that maybe you and her had more in common than anyone could ever know. You feel a certain kinship with her. The very fact that she is in this dark, dank cave ordering her own glass of liquid comfort deepens that feeling.

You get up and move down the bar, taking the seat next to hers. The bartender delivers her drink and when she reaches into her purse, you slap a hundred dollar bill down on the bar. She turns to look at you, but for the moment you let your gaze remain on the bartender.

“Keep them coming.” It sounds like something that someone would say in an old black and white detective movie and you feel sort of stupid for saying it.

You take another sip of your drink as she takes the first sip of hers. You use the mirror behind the bar to your advantage. It allows you take a better look at her without actually having to turn your head and look at her. She seems to have grown into her looks very well. She’s gotten rid of the black and red bob hairstyle that she used to wear. Now her hair is long and sleek, falling to her shoulders in face framing, dark brown layers. It looks good on her. Her pretty brown skin seems to glow, even in this dim lighting.

Even as you appraise her reflection, you can see that she is doing the same to you. You wonder what she thinks of your looks. People have told you that you’re aging well, but you’re not sure. You’ve never been sure of your own looks. The most you can say is that you definitely feel more comfortable with yourself these days. You’re letting your hair grow out again and it is just getting to the point where it starts to curl up at your collar.

You watch her reflection in the mirror and your eyes lock. Yours, bright and blue. Hers, as sweet and brown as maple syrup. You give her a hint of a smile. You always did think that she was the prettier one anyway. She wasn’t the main focal point of the group she was in, but she was the one that always caught your eye. You always felt like if there was anyone in the world that would truly understand how you felt, it would be her.

Finally, after much silence, she speaks to you. “What’s a nice boy like you, doing in a place like this?” Her tone of voice is obviously playful and she smiles while she speaks. You always thought she had a beautiful smile.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“True enough.” She takes another sip of her drink. “I came here to get drunk. What about you?”

“Same here.” You signal the bartender for him to refill both your glasses. “How long do you think it’ll be before someone recognizes us?”

“That’s the good thing about being who we are. We can move about a little more freely in public.”

“Well, there have to be some perks to being the second banana.”

“So true. So true.” She raises her glass in toast and you clink yours against it. You finally turn to actually face her and you both laugh. Might as well laugh. You are both well aware of what your situations are. What your place in the pecking order is. But that doesn’t mean that you understand it.

The more you think about it, the more you realize how much the two of you really do have in common. Your voices are just as good, some have even said better. But your solo albums came out with little or no fan fair and lackluster promotion. You’re both good looking. Everyone says so. You don’t have a lot of flashy style and you lack that straight from the box manufactured look. Her mouth is a little wide and your nose is kind of big. But aren’t the imperfections supposed to be what makes people attractive?

Doesn’t matter anyway. Things are the way they are and wracking your brain for reasons and explanations only depresses you. Besides, you came here specifically so that you wouldn’t have to think.

“What are you up to these days?”

“I’m recording another solo cd that no one will care about and that my record label will let die a slow, agonizing death.”

“I feel you on that one.” So much in common.

“By the way, I always meant to tell you how much I liked your cd. It may have lacked that radio friendly, easy to package obvious hit, but it was good music.”

“I liked your cd too. Maybe you would have had a bigger hit if you had worn high heels and booty shorts in your video.”

“How sad is it that you’re not the first person that’s said that? Did anyone ever tell you that you might have done better if you had whipped your shirt off and oiled up for the cover of Rolling Stone?”

“I don’t think anyone wants to see a half naked picture of my bony ass on the cover of Rolling Stone.”

She turns and looks at you. Really looks at you. “Don’t be too sure about that. It looks like you might be working with a little something, something. Just because you don’t show your body at the drop of the hat, doesn’t mean that you don’t have a body to show.”

You try to maintain your cool, but you can’t stop the blush that you feel heating up your cheeks. Compliments are always appreciated. “Maybe you and I should do a duet.”

“How much do you want to bet that it would come in at number two on the charts?”

“That’s a given. Coming in second is what we do best.” You stare into the bottom of your empty glass and wonder if they water down the drinks here. You feel like you should be a lot drunker than this by now. Her voice interrupts your fuzzy minded contemplation.

“How often do you do this?”

“Do what?”

“How often do you come to little, out of the way dive bars so that you can sit alone and drink yourself numb?”

“Whenever the mood hits me.”

You feel like you should be past it by now. The group has pretty much been over and done with for almost four years. You would think that would be enough time for you to be able to stand on your own, but it’s not. It’s still virtually impossible for anyone to mention your name without having to bring up Justin in the same sentence. You wonder if you will always be in his shadow.

“What about you? How often do you do this?”

“No real pattern. Sometimes I just sit down and start thinking about things. The more I think, the more I don’t want to think. And I end up some place like this.” She stops talking and lets out a barely audible laugh.

“I was looking in a magazine the other day. There was a picture of me at some movie premiere or whatever. The caption under my photo said that I was looking good. That I was finally moving up to Beyonce’s level. I can’t even get a compliment without having to be compared to her. It just gets to be a little much sometimes. But I don’t guess I have to tell you about that.”

You don’t have anything to say to that. You both sit there staring straight ahead, hugging your drinks against your chest. Wishing that somehow the drinks could hug you back.

A little time passes and you can hear whispering at the other end of the bar. When you look down that way, you see two people looking at you and pointing. When they notice you noticing them, they stop looking. But it’s too late. You know that you’ve been found out. You turn to give her the news, but you can tell by the look on her face that she already knows.

She slips off of her seat and picks up her coat. “It looks like the natives are starting to get restless.”

“Seems that way.” You stand up from your own barstool and offer her your hand. “Well, it was good seeing you.”

She firmly shakes your hand. “You too.” You hold onto her hand a bit longer than necessary, before finally letting her go. You both head toward the exit and you hold the door open for her. You turn to head your own way, but she calls out for you.

“The hotel I’m staying at isn’t that far from here. Do you want to continue our personal pity party in my room?”

Her tone is casual, but you are well aware of the fact that you are agreeing to a lot more than just a couple of drinks. It can get pretty cold when you spend the majority of your time in someone else’s shadow. You take your warmth where you can get it.

You follow her back to the hotel in your own car. Once you get there you enter through the back. She gives you her room number and you wait about fifteen minutes before going up to join her. Maybe no one would notice if you went up together, but why take the chance.

By the time you get up to the room, she’s already poured drinks for both of you and turned on some music. When you walk into the huge two room suite that she’s staying in, you take your coat off and drape it over the back of the sofa. She motions for you to sit down. She brings the drinks over and joins you. She kicks off her heels and folds her long, shapely legs underneath her.

You’re glad for the music that’s playing. Otherwise the silence in the room would be deafening. You’ve lost some of the easy camaraderie that you had back at the bar. You both know what you’ve come here for, but the transition from knowing to doing is never easy. She drains her glass and puts it down on the coffee table in front of you. She takes your glass away from you and she sits it down beside her own.

The kissing is awkward at first, but you’re no stranger to one night stands, so you’re not really surprised by this. What does surprise you is the force of the passion behind her kisses. So often you get the feeling that people are settling for you because they know they don’t have a chance with the one they really want. She’s kissing you like she really wants you and you alone. The desire that she feels for you sparks your own arousal. You pull her into your lap and slowly, you find each other’s rhythm.

She pushes away from you slightly, but only so that she can remove your shirt. You take the opportunity to do the same. You slide her shirt up and over her head. Your fingers stray upwards to the clasp of her bra and you undo it with one hand. The skin of her back is soft and smooth, like heaven beneath your fingertips.

She stares into your eyes as she runs her fingers through the soft hair at the nape of your neck. You break eye contact as you lean forward and slowly drag your tongue across her nipple. A soft sigh escapes her mouth as you tease the hardened bud with your teeth. You open your lips wider, practically sucking her entire breast into your mouth. Her head falls back as you kiss your way across her chest and lavish the same attention on her other breast.

You relax your grip on her and she slightly falls away from you. You lean forward and place hot, wet kisses on as much of her torso and stomach as you can reach from this position. She puts her hands on your shoulders and pushes you back against the sofa. She removes herself from your lap and begins to take off her remaining items of clothing. She peels down her tight blue jeans and lacy black underwear at the same time. She stands before you in all her glory. Completely nude and totally confident.

She makes a beckoning gesture with her finger, giving you the cue to stand up. She’s taller than you had remembered and even without her heels she meets you almost eye to eye. She kisses you again. A hard, deep kiss. The way that her tongue tangles around yours, produces a shiver that literally runs down your spine. It feels just that good. You could stop right here and feel satisfied. But you don’t have any intention of stopping here and apparently, neither does she.

She takes you by the hand and leads you into the bedroom. She sits down on the edge of the bed and watches you with anticipation in her eyes. Normally, such an intense stare would make you uncomfortable, but you feel completely at ease with her. You undo your pants and let them fall to the floor, your boxers aren’t far behind. You step out of both and kick them to the side.

She leans forward from her position on the bed and puts her hands on your hips. She pulls you closer and dips her tongue into your navel. A moan rises up from deep in your throat and you feel as though you will die if you aren’t inside of her soon. She scoots backwards, pulling her body up towards the head of the bed and you follow her, crawling on your hands and knees. You use your forearms to support your weight as you hover over her body.

You start kissing again and you feel breathless. Out of control and breathless. Your lower bodies are grinding against each other and you can easily feel the wetness that you have aroused in her. You honestly don’t believe that you have ever been this hard before in your entire life. You wonder how long you will be able to last once you actually get down to it, because the foreplay alone has almost undone you. You are right on the edge, but that’s okay because she is too.

You never even see her reach for the little foil package that she presses into the palm of your hand. The girl’s got skills, but so do you. You are known as being sort of clumsy, a bit of a fumbler. But not tonight. Tonight your moves are so flawless that you get the condom open and roll it down onto your shaft all in one smooth motion.

You enter her fully in just one stroke and you remain completely still. You know that you can’t move yet. Her body is tight and wet and so damn hot. If you move so much as just one inch, this will be over before it gets started. She draws her knees up tight against your sides and wraps her long legs around your lower back. Her movement draws you deeper inside of her and it takes every ounce of your self control not to come right at that very moment. You know that you can’t just lie here like this forever, so you slowly start to move inside of her.

You look at her and you see so much of yourself in her eyes that it’s almost too much to take, but it never crosses your mind to look away. You couldn’t even if you wanted to.

The sighs that fall from her slightly parted lips are the sweetest sounds you’ve ever heard and all the encouragement you need to increase the speed of your thrusts. She is right there with you. Matching you stroke for stroke. You can feel that your release is near and judging by the way that her inner walls are pulsing around you, she must be too. Your thrusts become longer, slower and deeper.

She bites into her bottom lip and digs her fingernails into your biceps. It hurts but you’ve always been a bit of a pain slut, so it’s okay. She releases her grip on your arms and threads her fingers into your hair. She pulls you down into a kiss just as she starts to come. Her moans get lost inside of your mouth and the aftershocks of her orgasm bring about your own.

You lie still inside of her for a moment after you’ve come. You need time to catch your breath and collect your thoughts. Eventually you get up and go to the bathroom. You dispose of the condom and splash a little water on your face. You wonder if she will want you to leave immediately or if she will want you to stay through the night. You wonder if you want to stay through the night.

When you come out of the bathroom, you can see that she has crawled under the covers, but she’s also left one side turned down for you. You climb into bed beside her and she rolls over to you, resting her head against your chest. You put your arm around her and pull her closer. You drift off into the most peaceful sleep that you’ve had in quite a while.

You awaken the next morning alone. For a minute you wonder if she has left you without saying goodbye, but then you hear noise coming from the other room. You get up, take a quick shower and get dressed. When you enter the living room of the suite, she greets you with a cup of coffee in one hand and your shirt in the other.

“I didn’t know how you take your coffee, but there’s cream and sugar on the serving tray.”

“Thanks.” You sit your coffee down long enough to pull your shirt on, then you pick up your cup and take a sip of the hot liquid. The coffee is strong and rich. After only a few sips you feel wide awake. You take a seat on the sofa and watch her as she moves around the room. You sit there trying to think of what your next move should be.

Part of you is tempted to stay here with her for as long as she’ll have you. You felt a spark of something the night before that felt like more than just sex. But the more rational part of you starts planning your escape. Just because someone wanted you for one night, it doesn’t mean that they want you forever. You have always been a strong believer in the ‘leave before you get thrown out’ philosophy.

You stand up and grab your coat from the back of the sofa. You clear your throat to get her attention. The smile that she gives you when she looks your way almost stops you from saying what you’re about to say. But you say it anyway.

“I had a great time last night, Kelly. But I’ve got to get going.” You feel like an asshole. Possibly the biggest asshole that ever walked the face of the earth.

Her smile falters a little bit, but only for a second. “I understand. I’ve got a ton of things to get done today anyway.”

She walks you over to the door and opens it for you. You give her a kiss on the cheek and turn to leave. You’re only a few steps into the hallway, before you hear her call your name.

“Hey, JC.”

You turn around and look at her. “Yeah.”

“I don’t guess it really matters anymore, but I just wanted you to know that you were always my favorite. Always.”

She steps back into her room and closes the door before you can say anything. Not that you would know what to say anyway.

You go downstairs and get in your car. You’re halfway home before it occurs to you that maybe you just gave up your one chance to be something other than second best.