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As I continue my way through the masses ignoring the drunken headache that is starting to appear, I spot an upstairs mezzanine floor just above eye level. I squint trying to make out the people up there and miraculously I spy some dark curly hair and from where I’m standing Jay’s assistant comes to mind.

Is that Amy?

A simultaneous burst of anticipation and worry hits me, but I have come too far to not press on. I search for the entrance to the mezzanine immediately and without further hesitation make my way over to it. Willingly pushing the patrons now instead of only coyly bumping past them, I begin feeling more determined than ever to see him. To find him. In the short time I had come to know him he had made me feel kind of safe again. He had given me possibility that my life would continue. I felt no longer numb after months of finding it impossible to feel anything at all. Although I find it more than difficult to admit, I do like him. A lot. I realise it’s not the simplest of situations but we could try.

Couldn’t we?

Maybe we can try together. With thoughts buzzing motivationally through my mind, in no time I have navigated up the metal staircase to the top of the mezzanine. There are people everywhere! I run my eyes through the scantily dressed women just praying to find those eyes penetrating mine, telling me he was happy to see me. I see the same wavy haired lady just ahead of me now and as she turns side on, I see her face. It is her. Amy. Jay’s bitchy assistant that hates me. I stand on the very balls of my feet ignoring the blisters popping precisely; a sombre reminder from today’s outing with him as the people in front of me block my view. There are mainly women all slouched on the couches where she is standing, some of whom she is talking to with her drink in hand.

Oh that’s one of his band mates!

I see one of the guys that I recognised from Sydney slouched over a woman, a gorgeous woman. Long legs, probably a model – since everyone here looks that way. I tug at my sheer blouse again, reminding myself how I probably stand out for being un-model like in a place like this. My eyes frantically search through the girls sitting with the band member. Two, three, four women surrounding him, until I catch sight of another guy in the middle of a few other eager companions. His head is turned to the side and the taller patrons surrounding me make it hard to see properly. Edging a little closer, straining my neck and standing as tall as I can on the very tips of my toes - I keep my eyes fixed anxiously on the mystery man in the centre.

Another band mate?

Am I closer?

Jay can’t be that far away!

As I take a few more steps on the moody floor, the mystery band member with his arm carelessly slouched over her shoulder turns his head front on. Even in the obscurity I can see those amazing blue eyes shimmer like stars amongst all of the insanity. A punishing strike plunges into my scar as I feel the always in waiting tears foster beneath the surface. I gasp.

It’s him.

I am frozen. Fighting back the flood of water that could break its banks at any moment. His body language slouched back coldly in the sofa with his arm draped effortlessly over her shoulder and surrounded by many others; re-enacting the same pictures that had flooded my google search. I swallow harshly. My eyes dart from his impassive facial expression, to the good-looking company draping themselves all over him and touching his body like they own him. Unable to look away I stretch higher, squashing the already tender sores on my feet so I can keep watching the tragic before me unfold. I search for his eyes hoping they find mine, so they can make that connection like we had since we met. But his disinterested face makes him look like a completely different person. A stranger.

Well technically…

Shut up conscious!

I feel so humiliated. How I could even think that a guy like him would be interested in me and that I could even try to be a part of his life. Of this world. That I so clearly do not fit into.

Was I trying to rebound?

NO.

I wasn’t even wanting a relationship or anything at all with anyone.

I feel sickened. The depression starting to reclaim its comfy home once again. I force my eyes away from the calamity unfurling before me to regard my plain outfit and petite body, which was nothing compared to these people. This place. This scene that he is obviously used to. I wrap my arms around my stomach, both from my insecure thoughts and the nauseating feelings starting to rumble in my belly.

“What are
you
doing here?”

Oh shit.             

Amy has taken her stance directly in front of me cutting off my panic and turning it to terror. One hand is firm on her narrow hip and the other with some kind of drink in hand. One that smelled like rum, or something as strong and vile as she appeared to be.

“I told Jay not to bring you here,” she slurs, sending her vulgar breath of alcohol and cigarettes all over me.

I cough a little.

She told him?

“He didn’t... I ah.... I.....” I stutter, trying to find the right words.

“I see.”

Her face begins filling with a seedy satisfied smile that sends the chunks to my throat. Any further turmoil and I just know I will be spilling my insides all over the floor; hopefully I can at least ruin her shoes in the process. She turns her head, glancing over her shoulder towards him before looking back at me, grinning sinisterly. “Well you know I can go and tell him you are here if you like?”

“Oh please no, I just need to….go,” I hastily reply fighting the sobs.

I just need to get out here!

Amy sneers again. “Yes, that might be best. That would be quite embarrassing for you,” she says as she eyes me up and down. “As you can see he doesn’t care about you at all. You were just an amusement for him. Something to pass the time...”

I don’t hear the rest of her bitter words. The salt from my tears is all I can taste as I can no longer hold the flood gates closed. The thumping beat of the overbearing music pulsating in my head, the surrounding warehouse blurry - a result of my watery eyes. I glance over her shoulder towards him so I can take in one last image, and am horrified to see him looking in our direction. He begins stretching his neck, trying to see us over the masses of people that fill the space between us. Between him. With his
ladies
.

I am going to be sick.

His eyes turn suddenly from disinterest to… concern? He hoists himself up instantly, disregarding the companions draped over him like he suddenly got too hot for a blanket and begins galloping his way towards us.

Fuck!

I turn and scamper away hoping he won’t catch me. Her horrible words tug hard at my wounded heart after having come so far today and finally acknowledging my feelings for him, to have them now crash down around me. It was so unbearable I really didn’t know how I was even functioning. I was shoving past people rudely; the tears rushing down my face and into my mouth. So many emotions erupting, brutally tearing open old wounds revealing fleshier ones. Wounds more painful than you could imagine. Finally fresh air hits me stiff in the face as I heave the entrance door open past the bouncer and head straight towards the street. Sobbing hard, gasping for breath, wiping the tears from my cheeks harshly and not caring who was around to see me such in such a state. I needed to escape.

“Penelope!”

The American accent I had come to like oozed through the night air speaking directly to the ill contents in my stomach. I didn’t turn around but halted at the curb, hoping a taxi would appear from somewhere. Anywhere. To save me as
he
once had.

“Penelope!”

I feel his icy body radiate beside me as his hand clasps my elbow, urging me to turn around.

“Don’t touch me!” I abruptly reply, as I jerk away from him irrationally.

As I am forced to face him, I am taken back by how different he looks up close. His eyes are glazed over and he isn’t his usual rigid self. Those beautiful blue eyes are bloodshot, red and are filled with pain and guilt.

“This is why you brushed me off this afternoon?” I question firmly.

“Penelope, please, don’t. Let me explain,” he starts slowly.

“Explain? You don’t need to explain anything. You don’t owe me an explanation Jay,” I state strongly, more confident that I would have thought possible given the circumstances.

“Yes. Y-Yes I do. You don’t understand. This isn’t. It’s not. Umm...” he shakes his head like he’s trying to find the words. The vapour from his breath gradually reaches my scent and the strong linger of alcohol is all I can make out.

“Are you drunk? Have you been drinking?” I ask surprised, remembering him telling me at dinner only the previous night he doesn’t drink. ‘Not anymore’ were his exact words.

“I can’t believe it! You lied? Why would you even lie about that? You must think I am a real fucking idiot!”

What was I thinking?!

I shake my head with annoyance mostly from my naive stupidity.

“Penelope, it’s not like that. This is my job. It’s what I do. It doesn’t mean anything.” He reaches for my arm again, but I shrug it off with much more force.

“Doesn’t mean anything?” I repeat his last line dubiously.

“No. It doesn’t. This, all of it.” He waves his hands around himself, flapping about awkwardly from his drunken state. “Doesn’t mean anything.” He stops his motioning and settles his eyes on me. Penetrating them consciously into mine until they lock; the usual vigour building precipitously. “But this....”

He motions his hand between himself and me in the tense but vacant space between us. “This
does
mean something to me.”

Tears stream down my face urgently. I just can’t do this again. I was already hurt by someone I cared for before and I barely know Jay, and I am already dealing with lies. I just can’t do this. I won’t survive. I know I won’t. I shake my head at him, at his words doubtfully. His eyes deepen with more sorrow as he immediately nods to confirm his slurred declaration.

“It does Penelope. It means something. It’s why. It’s the reason I didn’t just want to have sex with you. Why I still don’t yet. Sex is just sex and has been. It has been for a long time for me. I don’t only want that with you. I haven’t been fair.... I’ve been too scared to try this again after what happened before, but I want to with you.  I can’t walk away. I don’t..... I want... I want ...... you.”

He reaches for my wrist again, but I brush him off. I am too numb to even race my thoughts over his confession. To try to decipher his drunken slur of supposed honesty. I don’t even know him. I thought I may have, at least a little, but I have no idea at this point of anything. I’m cut.

“Penny....”

It was the first time he had called me Penny. My heart stung at the sweetness with which it sounded from his lips, calling me my nickname only those close to me called me, but physically and emotionally I was wrecked.

Please anyone get me out of here.

I squint as the lights from a taxi glow towards me answering my silent prayer and I am relieved I can finally escape him. Bathing in the salty water from my runaway emotions, I turn away ignoring him and raise my arm signalling the approaching vehicle.

“There you are! We missed you baby.”

I glance over my shoulder as the car pulls up to see a long-legged strawberry blonde stagger over towards him, as she leans her slender arm on him suggestively. Devouring his body with her unfocused brown eyes. Her fumbling hands a clear indication she was drunk, or worse; but I still couldn’t hide my jealousy. Her outfit mirrored mine tonight, but I felt uncomfortable at how amazing she made it look. All leg and midriff. I roll my eyes and swallow the vile down my throat back into place. He shuffles out from underneath her touch and I quickly open the taxi door and slide in hurriedly. As I slam it closed he props his hands on the window heavily and stares directly at me. His eyes are electrifying. He’s desperate. He’s begging me. It’s excruciatingly painful to witness.

“Penny,” he pleads, not wavering his intense stare through the window; the only thing keeping us apart at this minute. The glass being far too fragile to contain such emotions. I notice his eyes well. Not allowing water to escape but allowing his beautiful blue seas to drown as they become glassier every second that ticks by. Not being able to take it anymore I turn to the driver unlocking our hold. Relief overcomes me immediately.

“Hotel Presidio.”

Only a moment later we hustle away. And as I let out my held breath, I let everything go.

As I make my way back to the hotel room trying to avoid eye contact with every staff member that welcomed me back cheerily - I pack immediately. I knew he would probably follow me back here, if not right away definitely in the morning as my flight he organised leaves before lunch time. If I go to the airport now, I might be able to get on an earlier one. Carelessly throwing my clothes and toiletries into my bag I zip it up and head to the phone in the entrance way as fast and as steady as I can. Taking a short, sharp breath I lift the receiver and press for the front desk.

“Good evening Ms Price, can I assist you?”

“Umm, yes h-hello. Can you please organise another cab immediately please. I will be leaving this evening,” I state trying to hold myself together long enough to finish this conversation. I cover the receiver as I sniff away some still falling tears.

“Ms Price, we have you down to leave tomorrow. I hope your stay has been pleasant?”

Fuck!

“Umm y-yes, it’s been lovely. I just have a, err, a family emergency, I need to leave earlier that’s all.” I swallow shamelessly, hoping my lame excuse would be enough to satisfy the front desk and let this conversation be over.

“Oh I am sorry to hear that Ms Price. I will call immediately. Please just leave your key in the room when you depart. The check has been taken care of in advance.”

“Thank you.”

“I do hope you enjoyed your short stay with us and we will see you again next time you visit Los Angeles.”

I hold in a large breath as I feel the containment of my tears begin to break its fragile barrier.

As if I will ever come back here after all of this!

I hang up before the eruption and heave out heavily, allowing the cries to bellow from my chest. I just want to go home and see Rosie. I miss talking to her. Not having my phone over here has made it hard and I was bursting more than ever just to speak to her; to have her try and piece me back together to resemble my former, semi-whole self again.

If that’s even possible.

I wondered miserably.
Hopefully I could get on a flight back to Sydney tonight and pretend like this never happened. Pretend like I ever came here to see him. I gulp.

Could I really forget all about him?