Chapter Eleven: What happens in…
One week later
Flight to Vegas
I’ll be glad when this plane lands and I can touch the ground. As much as I’ve traveled all over the country, you’d think the thought of getting on a plane is cake. But it’s not, I hate flying. If I could drive to my favorite places in the world, I would have earned about a million miles, I swear. I hate that the plastic looking stewardess make you feel ‘comfortable’ when it’s impossible. How is it possible for someone to relax and ‘enjoy’ their flight? I can’t even imagine what it feels like in coach. Having to sit so close to someone, when you’re already uncomfortable. No thanks.
“What are you doing?” The person throws the airplane pillow on my lap and grunts. “You’re doing it again, V,” she says while wrapping the cord from her headphones around her ipod.
“You were sleeping,” I say, throwing the pillow back at her, checking that she didn’t make me scribble on my paperwork. “Rules are rules, Barker.”
“I said that this weekend, there is absolutely no work while you’re with me,” she says and grabs the pen from my hand.
“You were sleeping, which means you nor your spirit, were around. You were wherever it is that you go to and dream,” I say with confidence.
“Don’t be getting all metaphorical with me,” she says with a smirk. “Stop doing all that crap, you’re supposed to be enjoying yourself.”
“I am enjoying myself, Barker. But play is play and work is work,” I say as I put away all the ‘crap’ I have around me.
“You barely did anything in Hawaii, except be on the phone the entire time.”
“It wasn’t a vacation, Barker. It was work. I had to get that photo shoot out of the way. I wouldn’t have had the chance any other time. Besides, you had fun, so I’m happy.”
“Don’t give me that shit, Vanessa. You could have had fun if you wanted to. You’re involving your ‘real’ life with your business life again. Two completely different things in my book.”
“Don’t start again, Barker,” I say before reaching between us and grabbing my glass of champagne from the coffee table.
“Start what? Speaking the truth? You know I’m the only one around you that isn’t apprehensive about calling you on your shit. So if you should take anyone’s advice it should be me.”
“Are you going to give me the speech again? Frankly, I’ve heard it one too many times,” I roll my eyes at her and place my glass back on the table. “What does it mater if I had fun in Hawaii or not? I was there to do work just like you did when you had the time to do it, earlier this year. Besides, you know how much I hate Hawaii and how overrated I think the place is.”
“I’m not just talking about Hawaii, Vanessa. You know this and I know this,” she says drinking from my glass like it’s hers. Crazy bitch. “You are getting, if not already, caught up in your career too much. You promised me, no scratch that. You promised yourself that you wouldn’t do it again. You told me in New York that if I moved to LA with you, that you’d change. I haven’t seen any changes, if anything it’s getting to get worse. We’ve been here for months and you have gone out, what? Once?”
“You would have moved anyway, Barker,” I say with a smirk and a raised brow.
“Whatever,” she says waving me off. “That’s not the point.”
“What’s the point then?”
“The point is that you need to check yourself, V. And when you do that, you need to tell me what is going on with you. Because you’ve been awfully quiet for someone who likes the sound of her own voice. It’s creepy actually and you’re either going to tell me voluntarily or you’re going to have to tell. Either way, I’m going to know,” she says with a smile.
“I do not like the sound of my own voice, bitch!” I say with a laugh. I don’t feeling like laughing. I haven’t felt like laughing for days now. But it’s Barker and if I’m not laughing, I’m crying because of how hard I’m laughing. It’s a lose-lose situation when I’m with her, she makes me happy. She’s my own little laugh factory. “There’s nothing wrong.”
“I didn’t say there was anything wrong, you just did,” she says pointing at me with an evil eye.
“I have a lot of work to do, that’s all. And I haven’t been quiet by any means, didn’t you hear me telling the make-up artist what I thought about her?”
“That was you just being a bitch, Vanessa. While it may be funny as hell sometimes, it’s not always fun.”
“Oh, I know. By no means was that meant to be fun. She was annoying, how much make-up does a naturally tanned person need? Jesus!”
“You’re so anal,” she says with a laugh. “And you’re missing the point again.”
“You and your points are going to drive me to suicide,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
“At least you’ll get the point, though,” she says with a loud laugh, that causes the grumpy old business man next to us, to grunt. “You’ll be dead but you would have eventually gotten the point.”
“What? She can’t laugh, Sir? It is a free country,” I say to him and he grunts again before going back to his nap.
“You should be ashamed of yourself, V! You’re telling off grandpas now,” Barker laughs loudly again, the man is furious, I can tell. Who can sleep on a plane, anyway? Old fart!
“I’ll be super fun when this stupid plane lands,” I say looking out my window at the city below us. The most plastic of all the stewardess comes to get my glass and tells us to place our seat in an upright position. Like having your seat in an upright position is somehow going to save you from disaster. Seriously.
“Of course you will, you’re going back on tour,” she says and I look up at her. What does that mean?
“What does that mean?” I ask, and I know I shouldn’t because she knows me too well. She knows that something is up with me and the connection I have with her is too strong for me to hide it. I don’t have to tell her flat out that something out of the ordinary occurred. She knows me. Unfortunate as that may be, when you’re trying to forget what happened in the first place.
“You heard me,” she says as she puts her hair up in a messy bun.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” It’s best to play dumb with Barker at times like these. Times when you know exactly what she’s talking about. Sometimes I’m disgusted on how much she knows me and vice versa. “What I do know though, is that jacket is ugly.”
“It is hideous, isn’t it?” she says looking down at herself. She shrugs and smoothes the sleeves of the ugly thing.
“Out of all the jackets you could have taken from the shoot, you pick the ugliest,” I’m trying to change the subject at hand as much as I can. I should know better than to try with Barker but I’ve done it my entire life, it comes natural, I guess.
“Nice try on changing the subject, Vanessa,” she says with a fake smile. “I’ll humor you though, yeah it’s the ugliest but it was the priciest of them all. You should have taken that cute little black one you wore on the shoot. It looked good on you.”
“I think I have one just like that at home,” I say with a shrug. “I didn’t even wear it in New York, I doubt I’ll wear it in LA. And who wears their jackets at the beach? That was the most ridiculous photo shoot, we’ve ever done.”
“You should have seen me when I had to wear that mink when I came. I was sweating my ass off,” she says with a laugh. “But it’s for charity, so I can sacrifice my sweat glands for a little bit.”
“I think my sweat glands got clogged with that leather jacket I wore. I couldn’t even breath,” I say with a chuckle. “I’m glad it’s done though. The Keep Kids Warm Fund should be happy with the calendar.”
“Well at least the men will,” she laughs loudly again as the plane touches ground. I’m not laughing at all. I hate this part.
I thank God we decided to pack lightly when we left to Hawaii, because I wouldn’t be caught dead at baggage claim. I’ve been to Vegas a few times with my father and it seems as though every time we’d come, the entire United States was at the airport. It hasn’t changed since the last time I was here, I can say that much.
Barker and I try to walk as fast as we could toward the front entrance of the airport, I’m late. I look around for the driver that I ordered to pick us up and when I spot my last name, I make my way toward him. Outside there is a limousine waiting for us and we don’t waste any time in getting in it. It’s a half hour drive to the hotel and I try to relax while Barker flips the channel of the television located in the limo.
“So are you going to spill or what?” She asks as she tunes in to an episode of The Real World.
“There’s nothing to spill, Barker,” I say with a groan. “Let it go.”
“You know you’re just setting yourself up for a headache, because you know I’m going to continue asking,” she says with a shrug. “Maybe I should try being more direct. What happened with Justin?”
“What?” Is it that fucking obvious? I haven’t mentioned a single syllable of his name for over a week. I hate her, I swear I do.
“You’re forgetting who you’re talking to here, V,” she says with a sneer. “I’m a pro in the ’What’s bothering Vanessa Martinez’ game. In fact, I will take credit for inventing it.”
“What makes you think there’s anything wrong? And what makes you think it has anything to do with Mr. Timberlake?” I say with a huff and she smiles at me.
“Mr. Timberlake my ass, something so happened ,” she says with a laugh and a shake of her head. “That’s the first time you mention his name and you should look in the mirror right now. It matches your lip-gloss. Your face is as red as that make-up artist wanted to make you look.”
“Shut up, Barker,” I say and I’m seriously annoyed. She’s either talking shit or it’s the truth. I fucking blushed.
“Tell me again why you suddenly decided to leave the tour you were so ‘attached’ to? Then out of nowhere you decided you want to make ‘time’ for a photo shoot that was scheduled around the tour? Explain that, babe!”
“I had work to do at the office,” I say matter of fact. I’m lying and she knows it. I left my work done and in the hands of the very few capable staff members. In all honesty, I wanted to escape from the tour. From him. From myself.
“You left all your work done before going on tour, so don’t give me that crap,” she says flipping channels again. “I mean I can’t understand why you would want to leave Justin Timberlake’s side. He is a hot piece of juicy male,” she says and licks her lips for effect.
“What?” I ask and I really don’t mean to sound jealous, but I think I do because she looks at me with a raised brow.
“If that didn’t give you away, I don’t know what else could,” she says with a serious expression on her face. “What’s up with you? What happened?”
“Nothing,” I say resting my head on the seat and closing my eyes. “Everything.”
“He couldn’t have possibly done anything that bad, V. I know that for a fact, because he’s still alive,” she says turning off the television she was pretending to be interested in.
“He didn’t do anything wrong,” I say with a sigh. There’s no use in keeping anything from her, I might as well tell her. “That’s the problem.”
“Care to elaborate on that?” She asks as she shifts on the seat to face me.
“We kind of had a thing,” I say and I have to cover my face with my hands because I can feel the heat on my cheeks. What am I, fucking thirteen? “Oh, God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”
“Believe it,” she says with a smile. “You tell me everything.”
“We had a little encounter before I left back to LA,” I say and I’m trying not to remember the exact moment. It’s a hard task, because I’ve dreamt about it every single night since it happened.
“What kind of encounter?” She asks with a roll of her eyes.
“An oral one,” I cover my face again and grunt in frustration.
“Oral? As in ORAL? Jesus!!” she says loudly. “Justin Timberlake, the Justin Timberlake gave you head?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?!! ”
“Shh…” I say covering her mouth with my hand. “Are you trying to get me fired? I shouldn’t have said anything to you. At least not until this tour is over.”
“Whatever! So tell me, was it horrible?”
“What?” I ask shocked. Why would she ask me that?
“I had to be horrible, Vanessa. I mean why else would you be walking around depressed? Why else would you be fleeing the tour like you did? It was the worse experience of your life, right?” I know what she’s trying to do and I get it.
“Is this one of your points again?”
“So, it was good?”
“I’m not answering that, Barker.”
“You don’t have to, it’s written all over your face,” she says with a laugh. “So again, I ask. What is the problem?”
“Are you seriously asking me what the problem is? I screwed up, Aundrea. I’ve broken every professional boundaries I’ve set for myself. Not to mention the fact that Mr. Timberlake is very much in a relationship. Do you not think that’s a problem?” I ask as we near the Palms Hotel and Casino.
“Sure it’s a problem. His,” she says with a shrug. “He’s a big celebrity and so is his girlfriend, whom you have unending love for, by the way. Celebrities do this type of things all the time. Stop beating yourself up over it.”
“It’s not that simple, Barker. I’m not a celebrity. I have morals and a conscience,” I say as the door to the limo opens for us to exit.
“If you feel that way it can only mean one thing, Vanessa,” she says as we walk toward the entrance.
“What’s that, Dr. Barker?” I say as I check us in and take our key card from the concierge.
“It must have been really good,” she says as the door to the elevators open and we’re both face to face with Mr. Timberlake and Ms. Diaz.
Mr. Timberlake freezes up like as statue for a brief second before he smiles at Barker and says hello. The twig next to him, whom is holding his hand, smiles and greets Barker as well. What am I, chopped liver? And what the hell is she wearing? She dyed her hair black? Bad choice, Ms. Diaz! The purple shoes wouldn’t have been my first choice either. Eww. He tells Barker he hopes she makes it to the show the following night and keeps walking. When the elevator doors close with us inside, Barker looks at me with an evil stare.
“Don’t,” I simply say as we ride to our floor.
“Whatever you say, Vanessa,” she says and I can tell she’s holding back from laughing. “Does she really think she looks good with that hair? And oh my God did you see those awful purple shoes she was wearing? Some one needs a personal stylist.”
“Someone needs a rejuvenating face mask too,” I say and I can’t help but laugh lightly. “And you had those shoes too, Barker, I wouldn‘t talk.”
“Had, as in past tense. Those were so last season, I swear,” she says letting her hair out of the bun she’d done earlier. “You shouldn’t feel guilty for getting it on with Justin Timberlake,” she says as the doors open and we’re in a pretty populated hallway.
“Shh,” I say quickly as we step off the elevator. “Jesus, Barker!”
“Oh shut up,” she says and looks down the hallway. I know she’s looking for Mr. Ayala, who promised her dinner. “Where’s Trace’s room?”
“I don’t know. I just got here, remember?” I say opening the door to our suite for the weekend. “Listen,”
“I know what you’re going to say, so save it. Who am I going to tell? Besides, you’re being way too hard on yourself. I’m actually kind of happy for you. I wish you’d feel the same. You haven’t had sex in ages, and not because you can’t. You’ve drowned yourself in your work and haven’t given anyone a chance. So what, if that opportunity came in the form of the hottest pop star in the world? Enjoy it, V. Please!”
“I was going to say that I have to go to the venue and I’ll be back later on,” I say making sure everything that I need is in my briefcase. “But nice speech anyway.”
“So what are you going to say to him?”
“To whom?”
“John Travolta,” she says sarcastically. “Justin. What are you going to say to him? He seems to be tense too, like someone around here. More specifically, you. And I just saw him for like two seconds, and I don’t even know him like that to know, but I can tell. I don’t know him like you do, at least.”
“Barker!” I say with a huff as I reapply my lipstick in front of a mirror. I grab my briefcase and tell her, I would call her when I get a chance. “Have fun tonight.”
“No! You have fun!” she says pointing at me as I head out the door. “You promised!”
“I didn’t promise to have fun while I work, Barker,” I say as I open the door and walk out.
“You can have fun all the time!” I hear her say before the thickness of the door blocks out what she’s saying. I smile, even though I’m in a miserable mood. I try to clear my head and relax on my elevator ride down but it’s not really working and my nerves are shot.
When I walk onto the lobby, which has flashes of cameras going off, I realize that Mr. Timberlake and his candy on a stick, haven’t left yet. I can see a limousine pulling up to the door and I cringe. Am I going to have to ride with them to the venue? I swear God is striking down on me for my sins, because after the driver lets the superstar and the supernot in the limo, he comes and gets me.
“Ms. Martinez?” the driver asks and I don’t know how he knows who I am, but he does.
“Yes, how did you know?” I ask as I walk next to him to the car.
“Mr. Timberlake pointed you out, ma’am,” he says and if I wasn’t preoccupied with my dilemma, I would have told him that ma’am is my mother. Or perhaps, Ms. Diaz, he could call that, not me.
“I didn’t notice,” I ask as he reaches to open the door for me.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says again before I get into the car. Mr. and Ms. I Hate Them, are sitting on the far side of the limo. Like I really wanted to sit with them anyway.
I don’t say a word to either one and pretend to look over some paperwork from my briefcase. A few minutes pass before we can actually get past the tour buses and fans surrounding the hotel. If the word awkward could describe my situation at the moment, the word would be worth a million bucks. But the word doesn’t do justice. The tension in the small space increases and I try my best to keep my eyes on the paper in front of me. I don’t know why they are choosing to remain quiet but they are, nonetheless. Assholes.
My brain is telling me one thing while my body does another, because I look up at them anyway. Her head is on his shoulder and she has her headphones on with her eyes closed. She couldn’t sleep in the hotel? I feel like asking her that but I refrain. Can she seem less interested in him? She looks constantly bored out of her mind. What’s her problem? Why the hell do I care? When I divert my eyes over to him, I notice that he’s wide awake and staring.
At me.
I look at him and raise my eyebrow in question.
“Something on your mind, Mr. Timberlake?” I ask because I really can’t help myself. If I’m not being a complete bitch to him, I’m thinking about what we did. I’d rather put all that aside and throw a few punches because if I don’t, he’ll take me down. I know it. As hard as that may be to admit, I’m prepared to accept that.
He doesn’t say anything instead pulls his girlfriend closer to him and leans his head on the head rest before closing his eyes. Good. I didn’t want to talk to him anyway. I try to look away at the picture in front of me but I can’t. They disgust me.
If I could just get through the rest of this day, I’ll be thankful. I’m going to the venue to meet with Johnny and the security staff. I‘m going to avoid the sleepy couple as much as possible. And then I’m going to keep my promise to Barker and have some fun.
Even if it kills me.
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Three Hours Later
The meeting with Johnny took longer than I expected and it’s almost nine o’clock when I get back to the hotel. I’m feeling a bit tired and I hope Barker wants to stay in tonight. I doubt it, but it’s okay to hope.
When I step off the elevator, I can see Barker, Mr. Ayala and Reba girl talking by our room door. I’m usually not very sociable when I’m tired, or hardly ever , so I hope they make themselves scarce by the time I reach the room. Barker sees me coming first and she lets the other two know. I really don’t want to chat right now. I really don’t. I put on my best smile, the one plastered on my face twenty-four hours a day and reach them.
“Welcome back, gorgeous,” Barker says with a smile.
“Thank you, beautiful,” I say with a wink.
“Hey Vanessa,” Mr. Ayala says looking from Barker to me with a smile.
“How are you, Trace?” I ask and in all honesty I don’t care. “I just heard really good things about your project from Mr. Wright.”
“Yeah, to say I’m doing great is an understatement,” he says with a bright smile.
“I love your shoes, Vanessa,” the Reba girl says and I’m forced to look down at the shoes I’m wearing. I’m so out of it, I had forgotten about my new pair of Manolo Blahniks. They are great shoes!
“Thank you,” I say as I slide my key card to open the door. “I apologize for being rude, but I’m exhausted and hungry. I’m going to order something to eat,” I say halfway into the room.
“I ordered for you already, V,” Barker says. “It should be up in a few minutes.”
“Thanks, B,” I say with a genuine smile. This is why she’s my best friend. This is why she’s the only person I count on. “Have a good night,” I say to the other two as I enter the room.
I throw myself on the bed face down and I swear I’ve never felt so exhausted. Ever. And the thing is, that being physically tired has nothing to do with it. It’s more mental than anything else. Having to walk around acting as though nothing in the world bothers me is exhausting. It drains the life out of me and the sad part is that I don’t know any different. The only time I can grasp any concept of normalcy, is when I’m with Barker. Which is why she’s in Vegas with me when I would normally tell her to stay away and let me work. I’m out of whack, I swear.
“Long meeting?” I grab the pillow Barker just threw at me and lay my head on it. I wish I could sleep but I know better. It’s Vegas! And Barker hasn’t been here in a while. By turning to look at her I can already see the party girl emerge. She has plans. Shit.
“If Johnny wasn’t a family member I swear I would tell him to shut up,” I say with a chuckle. “The man can talk and talk and then he’ll talk some more.
“Sounds oddly familiar,” she says with a laugh. “You look tired,” she says and she frowns. “That face isn’t going to work tonight.”
“Sure it will. This pillow doesn’t have eyes,” I say with my eyes closed as I snuggle onto it.
“Yeah, okay,” she says and gets up from where she was laying next to me. “I ordered a cheeseburger and some fries for you. Some solids to hold you up, if you know what I mean.”
“You know I don’t eat heavy food before bed, Barker,” I say kicking off my very expensive shoes. I don’t even care at this point. All I care about is convincing her to stay in for the night. At least let me, stay in for the night I should say.
“Yeah I’m aware of that but since you’re not going to bed for a few hours, you should be okay,” she says as she looks through the clothes in the closet. I’d forgotten I had my things shipped before going to Hawaii and I was a bit shocked to see all the clothes. “Now, what are you wearing?”
“I prefer wearing nothing in the privacy of my own home when I sleep, but a tank and shorts will do here,” I say with a yawn.
“Right,” she says as she keeps sorting through my things. “Do you know that you have three identical suits in here?”
“They aren’t identical,” I argue and lift my head up to see one of the suits she’s talking about. “The pockets are different and so is the stitching.”
“Whatever,” she says hanging the garment bags back on the rail. “This will do,” she says grabbing a gold top from the closet and throwing it on the bed. The top lands near my head and I grunt because I don’t want to wear that. I don’t want to wear anything, period.
“I can’t wear that to bed,” I know I shouldn’t mess with her when she’s putting her fashion expertise to use but anything to try to reach my goal.
“Trace brought two size threes,” she says as she throws a pair of jeans next to the shirt, I’m apparently wearing tonight. “I like the lighter ones, so you’ll have to wear those.”
“Trace gave you jeans?” I ask sitting up on the bed and curling my legs underneath me as much as I could wearing a skirt. I reach for the pair she’d thrown my way and shake my head. “I’m not wearing these.”
“I’m wearing one of your suit jackets,” she says ignoring me and I’m annoyed. I hate being ignored. “And this,” she says taking a long necklace I have in my jewelry box. I hadn’t noticed that earlier either.
“Did you hear me?” I ask lifting the jeans up. “I’m not wearing these.”
“Sure you are,” she says as the someone knocks on the door. “I’ll get it, it’s your food,” she says putting the necklace around her neck. It’s going to be a long night, I can tell.
When she comes back, she’s pushing the cart of food toward the bed. The food cart in stocked with my food, a cheese tray and a small bottle of Puerto Rican Rum. I look up at her and she smiles. She’s going to be the reason my head will be pounding tomorrow. I smile and gesture for her to give me one of the shot glasses she’s holding.
“Just give me it,” I say and she laughs.
“Just one though, then you eat, take a shower, get dressed and then we’ll have another one,” she says as she fills the two shot glasses with the clear liquor. “Then we’ll go have some fun!”
“Can’t wait,” I say with a bored expression when she hands me the glass.
“To a fun night in Vegas,” she says as she clinks her small shot glass against mine. I take the shot with her and the liquid burns its way down my throat. I’m already feeling warm. Damn! “And to more fun times with Justin for you,” she says after we take the shot. My eyes bug out and I caught on the liquid that’s not there.
“If I would have said that before you would have spit that all over me,” she says with a laugh. “That would have been a waste.”
“Jesus! I shouldn’t have said anything to you,” I say as I take my suit jacket off and throw it across the room. There goes seven hundred dollars. “You won’t shut up about him.”
“Well if you didn’t have ‘him’ written on your beautiful face, I wouldn’t be reminded,” she says with a sarcastic smile before taking my shot glass from where I dropped it on the bed. “Eat!”
“I do not have Justin Timberlake written on my face,” I say getting up from the bed and grabbing my food. I se the cove on the cart and sit in the table located by the balcony doors. I pop a French fry into my mouth and decided that I’m not so hungry anymore.
“Of course you don’t,” she says as she places the shoes she plans to wear on the bed. He grabs another pair and lifts one of each pair up to me. “Which ones?”
“The Louis Vuittons,” I say as I take a bite out of my burger even though my appetite is gone. “Where are you going to anyway?”
“Yeah I was going for those too. And ‘we’ are going downstairs to Rain,” she says before heading toward the bathroom. “Wear the jeans.”
“I’m not wearing his jeans, Barker,” I say as she’s closing the bathroom door. She opens the door and looks at me.
“No, you’re not. You’re going to wear the jeans Trace was nice enough to give to us,” she says closing the door and ending the conversation.
I’m not wearing those jeans.
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Two Hours Later
“I should have taken those,” Barker says to me as she walks behind me, out of the room. “Your ass looks great in them.”
“You can have them,” I say with a shrug. “I don’t need another pair of jeans.”
“What you need is to have some fun,” she says slapping my butt and laughing. “Relax, V.”
“I am relaxed,” I’m lying. I’m not relaxed at all. The few shots we took while we got ready aren’t really kicking in yet. I’m glad this bar is upstairs because the minute that Barker is distracted, I’m sneaking back to the room. Crossed fingers, as we step into the empty elevator and ride forty-five floors down. The movement of the elevator makes me a bit dizzy and when I step off the elevator behind Barker, I realize I wasn’t the elevator at all. I’m a bit tipsy.
I don’t even care.
When we make it to the club’s entrance, Barker is being called by one of the bouncers. When she had time to meet him , I don’t know, but it took us two seconds to get past the line of people waiting.
“When did you meet him?” I ask loudly over the music as we make our way past the metal detectors.
“I didn’t,” she says looking around the club. “Trace told him I was coming. He must have described me or something.”
“Trace? He’s here tonight?” I ask and the music is so loud, I can’t even hear myself.
“Yeah and so is Justin,” she says before grabbing my hand and weaving through the crowd. I don’t even have a chance to react, I just follow her and try to keep my head from spinning.
“Barker!” I say and she turns to look at me.
“We have to go upstairs!” she yells and points to one of the skyboxes above us.
I keep walking, weaving around people and ignoring the pathetic bastards that try to talk to me. Can’t they see I’m walking? Or trying to? Jesus! When we reach the skybox area, a large man looks at us and doesn’t even ask who we are. He opens the door to the stairs and we pass him. I realize as we go up the stairs that I’m entering the danger zone. Mr. Timberlake and Ms. Diaz better be off to one side of the room and remain there. I’m not sure that I’ll be able to hold my tongue in the state of inebriation that I’m in.
“Can’t they put an elevator in here? Damn!” Barker says as we walk down the corridor leading to the skyboxes.
“You didn’t tell me we were hanging out with them, Barker,” I say as we walk to the end of the hall.
“You didn’t ask,” she says with a smile.
“Hey! I didn’t know you were going to be here,” I can see Dre coming down the corridor. He’s so damn annoying. I put on my best smile and return the hug he gives me. Barker gives me a wide-eyed look and refrains from laughing out loud. She’s drunk.
“Dre, this Aundrea Barker,” I say with a smile. “My best friend.”
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Aub…rey,” he says with a stutter. He’s a loser, I can see why I can’t stand him.
“The pleasure is mine, Fred,” she says and I laugh. He looks at her weird and looks at me with a smile.
“I’ll save you a dance, Vanessa,” he says as he passes us and goes into the room.
“Eww, who the hell is that thug?” Barker asks with a cringe.
“Tim’s cousin,” I say as I open the door.
“You seem pretty chummy with him,” she says and I stop my walk toward the bar in the room. I’m trying to avoid having to look around the dark congested room. Isn’t this supposed to be private? Who are these people? “Anything I should know?”
“No,” I say as I grab her hand and pull her behind me toward the bar. “I need a drink.”
“Don’t look now, V,” Barker says to me when we reach the small bar. “You’re one step closer to having fun!”
“Shut up,” I say with a smile before I tell the bartender what we’ll have. “I did promise.”
“That you did,” Barker says as she grabs one of the shots that I ordered and makes a toasting gesture. “To change!”
“To change,” I agree and down the double shot of tequila like it was water. Change can be good. Or not.
“Here comes Fred again,” Barker says with a chuckle. When I turn, I can see that Dre has his eyes on us and the place is too congested to run away.
“Fred Flintstone,” I say with a laugh as he gets closer. Barker laughs loudly and sips on the Long Island Ice Tea she has. “He doesn’t even have a rock to drop dead on,” the comment makes Barker laugh even louder and she continues to do so as Dre approaches me.
“You want to dance?” he asks, Barker turns around and I can see her shoulder shake from laughing and trying not to laugh too, I look around the area. There are a lot of people in the room and the lights are dimmed but only one set of eyes I can clearly see. Mr. Timberlake is sitting on a couch across the small dance floor and he’s looking at me intently. Ms. Diaz is sitting on his lap and she’s having a conversation with Ms. Bomar who is sitting on the other couch.
“Sure,” I say and Barker turns to look at me. “I would love to.”
“Wha…” Barker starts to say but I can see the laughter in her face.
“Watch my drink!” I say as Dre pulls me to the middle of the floor. A random Sean Paul song is playing and Dre doesn’t waste any time. My ass is merely an inch away from his front and I roll my eyes at Barker who is laughing hysterically. She’s really drunk.
A few songs are played and I must admit that I am having a good time. My back is turned to Mr. Timberlake and his crew and I’m on my third drink. Barker is off dancing with Trace and Mr. Kudelka, so far so good. A new song starts and Barker comes to where Dre and I are, a drink in her hand. I can see Ms. Days Of Sunshine walk out of the bar with Ms. Bomar and I’m hoping Mr. Timberlake already left.
“Can my friend dance with somebody else now, Fred?” she asks with a smile. I try not to laugh but it doesn’t work, I laugh throwing my head back. I don’t even know what’s so funny but I can’t stop laughing.
“Share the wealth, Dre,“ Mr. Timberlake is standing behind me and I’m suddenly not laughing. I turn to him and I feel like he’s entirely too close. The two men go through the pounding fists and the one arm hug before Mr. Timberlake looks at me. He’s not smiling. He’s just looking at me. “Are we dancing or not?”
I’m about to tell him to take his dancing ass away from me but Barker interrupts me. “Sure she would! She wouldn’t be rude, right V?”
“You wouldn’t want to be rude, V,” he says to me and the smirk that’s normally on his face, isn’t there. Instead he’s looking very serious and angry. What crawled up his ass?
“Of course not, Mr. Timberlake,” I say handing Dre my empty glass.
The alcohol in my system is preventing me from pulling my hand from his and telling him to fuck off. The alcohol in my system is allowing his hands to go to my hips. The alcohol in y system allows him to turn my body over to be flushed against him. I know there’s a reggae song playing but I can’t hear the words, my mind is so far off. We’re moving together perfectly slow to the beat of the song and I can feel his hand make contact with my skin when we move. My head is resting back on his shoulder and I can feel his breathing on my neck when he move my hair out of the way.
“Were you planning on fucking him on the dance floor?” he whispers in my ear. When I go to make a move to get away from him, he pulls my hips closer to him. I can feel the hardness on my ass and I close my eyes trying to clear my head. I’m too drunk for this. “They way you were rubbing your ass on him, you might as well have fucked him,” he whispers and he sound incredibly angry which normally would piss me off. But tonight, well tonight is a different story.
“Was I rubbing my ass on him like this?” I say loud enough so only he could hear me and I add a little pressure with the said body part. He makes that sound that’s been haunting me for days and I almost pass out. I’m going to regret this in the morning.
“You weren’t this close to him no,” he whispers.
“Well then according to your rules, Mr. Timberlake, you might as well fuck me,” I say and the next thing I know, I’m being lead to the door. I look around for Barker and I catch her eye from the dance floor. She has a huge smile on her face and I roll my eyes at her.
“Fuck!” I hear him say and my hand is released from his grasp. Ms. Diaz is making her way toward us and I should be turning to walk the other way. But I’m not.
“Shit out of luck, Mr. Timberlake,” I say with a shrug as Barker comes to stand next to me. She hands me a drink and I sip on it as Ms. Diaz makes her presence known.
“Hey babe, I thought you were coming,” she says followed by that loud obnoxious laugh of hers. She sounds like a fucking hyena.
“Oh, he was going to come, for sure,” Barker says and I can’t help but laugh. Everything is hilarious. “But I wanted to buy him a drink and I wouldn’t take no for an answer. Would you like a drink, Cameron?”
“Oh no thanks honey, I’m good,” she says with a smile, tucking that ratty black hair behind her huge ears. “Having a good time tonight?” she asks and I know she’s asking me more than Barker.
“I was,” I say with a fake smile. “Hope you enjoy the rest of the night,” I say drinking the rest of the drink Barker gave me in one swig. My best friend in the world, takes my cue and follows my lead.
“You two have a good night,” Barker says to them and follows me to the door. She’s laughing as she catches up with me. “That would have been so bad!”
“Shut up,” I say laughing a bit and as we make our way past a few other drunk people, I come face to face with some blond chick with roots down to her ears that I’ve never seen before. “Excuse me.”
“I’m Nikole,” she says and throws her hair behind her shoulder. Her demeanor screams groupie. You’re not getting a meet and greet out of me, skank!
“I’m glad,” I say and go to walk around her.
“Go away,” Barker says to her and laughs.
“I’m Nikole,” the blond chick says again.
“We’ve established that already, Nicky,” Barker says mockingly. “What do you want? The show’s sold out. Too bad so sad. Good night.”
“I’m Dre’s girlfriend,” Nikole says annoyed. “I saw you dancing with my man earlier and you better back off. I wanted to let you be warned…”
“Whoa!” I say and I can’t believe I just heard this groupie warn me. “Warn me? Let me tell you about warning, NIKOLE! Warning is the little label on the condom wrapper your father forgot to read, making you that one percent. DO NOT think for one minute that you or any of your friends, will ever ’warn me’ about anything. If you’re incredibly miserable insecure in your relationship, that’s not my problem, it’s yours. You should be paying attention to your gaydar, which obviously you don’t have, as much as you should pay closer attention to those roots of yours. Get a life!”
“Amen!” Barker says with a laugh.
“What?!” Nikole feels like an idiot, I can tell.
“Listen Nicky,” Barker says with a smile. “Your ‘man’ is so busy playing a straight guy, you’re buying into it. Take a hard look at your ‘man’ before you start assuming my friend here wants him. Take care of those roots too, girl! We’re in Vegas!”
“Goodnight,” I say and push the bimbo out of my way. Barker follows, still laughing.
I’m over this night. I need to go to bed. Alone.
But I’m tired of being alone.
LoveStoned by Lynn
Story Tags: interracial wallsex celebrityj enemiesturnedlovers
