Ignoring her statement, I tipped back my Hennessy. My head was nice and fuzzy, but I’d rather be blacked out. Anna sighed and recrossed her legs. She didn’t ask me to stop again, and I didn’t until we arrived at the venue and the car door opened. “Showtime,” I slurred.
The driver helped Anna out, then me. I almost toppled over when I stood all the way up. I’d massively overdone it, but I didn’t give a shit. I slung an arm over Anna’s shoulders and stumbled my way up the carpet. Anna had to help me walk straight, and she struggled with my weight some, but I was smiling and waving, just like Harold wanted.
Some classy chick in a fancy dress approached me with a microphone. “Well, hello,” she started to say. I didn’t let her finish though. Ripping the microphone out of her hand, I turned to the cameraman standing behind her. “Griffin Hancock here! What the fuck up, world!”
The woman tried to get the mic back, sputtering, “You can’t say that on TV!”
Turning so she couldn’t take the microphone away from me, I pointed at the camera. “Keep a lookout for my new show, Acing It. It’s going to blow your fucking mind!”
She finally got a hand on the microphone and yanked it away from me. “Prick!” she screeched while I laughed. Anna pulled me away with a long sigh.
Once we finally got to the end of the carpet, Anna was huffing and puffing like she’d just run a marathon. I was totally fine, buzzing in all the right places. Looks like I was in the mood after all. As we walked through the doors, I told Anna, “Let’s go backstage somewhere and fuck. Or on the stage. You know I’ve always wanted to do it on a stage.”
Anna elbowed me in the ribs. “I don’t think you’re in any shape to do anything but pass out. Let’s just go find our seats.”
“Fine,” I muttered, “but I have to pee first.”
By the time we found a bathroom, mingled, and schmoozed with people, the show was about to start. Anna herded me to our row, then stopped short when we got there. “Fuck,” she said under her breath.
Getting excited, I started unbuttoning my shirt. “Yeah? You want to do it right here? In front of the crowd? Works for me!”
She slapped her hand over mine, stopping me. “Griff…” She tilted her head toward the only two empty seats in the row. I didn’t see why she looked worried, until I noticed who was occupying the full seats. All the D-Bags and their bitches.
“Fuck, no.” I looked around the auditorium for that slimy producer who’d set this up. “Where the fuck is Harold? I’m gonna fucking kill him! There’s no way I’m fucking sitting here! No fucking way!”
My screaming got the attention of everyone in our area, including my ex-bandmates. Kellan looked surprised to see me, Evan looked conflicted. Matt just looked pissed. Squeezing Rachel’s hand tighter, he narrowed his eyes at me. “What are you doing here? You’re not in the band anymore, remember?”
I glanced at his hand holding Rachel’s, and sure enough, there was a shiny gold band around it. Fucker really did get married without me. “It’s true, isn’t it? You really did tie the knot? Thanks for the invite, asswipe.”
Matt’s face turned a deep red. “It was close friends and family only. You’re neither anymore.”
That got under my skin, and I took a step forward. “You fucking piece of shit!”
Kellan stood up and put his hands on my shoulders. Even plastered, I registered the clicking of camera phones going off. Harold had wanted a show, and here I was giving him one. “Calm down, Griffin. It wasn’t like that. It was…a spur-of-the-moment thing. Let’s go into the lobby and we can talk about it.”
I shoved him away from me. His kindness was just as grating as Matt’s disdain; I didn’t need sympathy. “Don’t do me any favors, Kell. He’s just mad because I don’t need him anymore, and he can’t control me. I don’t need any of you anymore. I’ve got my own thing, and it’s bigger and better than anything I had with you guys. You’re all just jealous, and you can all suck it!”
Turning around, I stormed off. “Griffin, wait!” Kellan called.
I could just hear Matt responding with “Save it, Kell, he’s not worth chasing after. If he wants to go, fucking let him.”
Grabbing Anna’s hand, I yanked her up the aisle. Some PA person working on the show tried to get us to sit down. “The lights are flashing, sir, that means you have thirty seconds to find your seats.”
Towering over him, I snapped, “Then you have twenty seconds to get the fuck out of my way.” I pointed down to the front of the auditorium, where our seats used to be. “I’m not sitting down there. I’m going home.” Fuck Harold. I’d made my appearance. That was all that was required of me.
The PA raised his hands. “I can get you different seats. I’m sure someone in the back would be more than happy to swap with you.”