Maysie gave me a shaky smile that reminded me so much of the insecure girl I had known during our Chi Delta days. I hated seeing her like this. Unsure and unhappy.
While it was great that the guys were finally getting the recognition that we all felt they deserved, it seemed to be coming at a hefty price.
For everyone.
Maysie’s less than exuberant mood put a damper on what I had hoped to be a great weekend.
What a downer. And I was looking so cute too! I fluffed my hair and tried to resurrect our dwindling good time.
“Let’s tailgate, ladies!” I announced, slapping some cash down on the table and jumping to my feet. I wiggled my hips in time to the music blasting from the jukebox in the corner and grinned a siren smile, as I became the immediate center of attention.
“But we don’t have a tailgate,” Maysie pointed out. I shrugged.
“Then let’s go borrow one!”
There was to be no tailgating during our evening festivities, much to my disappointment.
By the time the three of arrived at the Pour House Music Hall, where Primal Terror and our boys were playing, it was already packed. The Rejects weren’t due to hit the stage for another hour, but people were already lined up around the block.
Pour House Music Hall was a lot smaller then some of the venues where the bands had been performing over the last few months, but Primal Terror had insisted on several “smaller” gigs. They had risen up through the more intimate clubs and bars and apparently wanted to get back to their roots.
“We don’t have to wait in line, do we? Because I’ll start flashing boob to get to the front if I have to,” I complained. Though I meant it. I wasn’t above using some flesh just so I didn’t have to wait around.
“Of course not, we’re going straight in,” Maysie said and I was relieved to see that the doom and gloom had disappeared. It was hard to be pissy when you were going to see your man play to an adoring crowd. There was no greater aphrodisiac out there.
Unless your guy was an attention-seeking slut bag.
As soon as we entered the darkly lit bar, I caught sight of the guys setting up their gear on the small stage. All of them, but Cole that is. He was too busy sitting on the edge of the stage, his legs hanging off the side with some girl stood between his knees.
He was leaning back on his hands. So there was no groping or kissing going on. But that didn’t stop me from wanting to run over there and rip skankarilla’s hair out.
My rage ignited instantly.
Damn, it was going to be a long night.
I couldn’t help but notice the crusty looks the other guys tossed their lead singer’s way. And how he purposefully kept his back to them.
It was sad to see an end to their easy camaraderie. I really hoped this was only a phase and they’d get back to normal soon. Because no band could withstand the obvious resentment and bitterness that swirled around between them.
I turned my attention back to my erstwhile fellow and noticed that the girl now had her hands on his knees.
I felt my fingers curling into a fist.
Gracie grabbed my arm and gave it a tight squeeze, her nails digging into my skin painfully. “Don’t, Viv. Just don’t,” she warned.
I yanked my arm away and resolutely turned my back on Cole and his bimbo of the moment. I pushed my way through the crowd and slammed my hand down on the bar. The two guys on either side of me looked down and gave me identical leering smiles.
“Let me buy you a drink, baby.” I turned my most seductive smirk on a guy with a bright red Mohawk and a tattoo running along one side of his face.
“I’ve never been one to turn down free alcohol.” I looked up at him through my eyelashes, laying it on as thick as possible. I had no interest in Mohawked and Scary but free booze was the way to this girl’s heart.
“I’ll be buying your drinks tonight,” a hard voice said from behind me. I let out a sigh but didn’t turn around. I put my hand on Mohawk’s arm.
“I want my drinks from you though,” I simpered.