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It hasn’t been that long. Perhaps two weeks. But it’s been two long, arduous, lonely weeks of me trying to power through work during the day and getting drunk every night. Protip: getting drunk every night is not conducive to doing good work during the day. But I don’t care.

So, what do you do at a gay bachelor party in Tokyo when you’re on the mend from your woman dumping you?

Get drunk. As fuck.

I don’t know most of the men here, and I’m not interested in networking. It’s a party, anyway. Ted and his best friends are tearing up this small network of clubs in some tiny neighborhood in Shinjuku. There is no shortage of man meat. Let alone men attempting to hit on me because, by God, I am an American woman who looks like she knows what she’s about. A good number of my brother’s friends swing both ways, apparently.

Too bad for them I amnotin the mood to let them down gently. Let alone subsequently.

“Hellloooo gorgeous.” A thin man who reeks of too much spicy cologne puts his hand on my shoulder and sways back and forth. I daresay he’s drunker than me, but he’s the happy kind of inebriated. Me? I prefer to be miserable and angry. I’ll put on a smile for the pictures to keep my brother placated on one of his big days, but…. God, I have to go to a wedding soon! Kill me!

“Not interested,” I mutter. Were I in a better mood, I’d at least be nice about it. After all, knowing that my beautiful Alessa was waiting for me back in Portland would give me a nice bout of confidence to gently turn down a drunken man.

Not tonight.

“Come on, sugar, one dance.”

His breath is coated in gin and sake, the national alcoholic drink of Japan.

“I said that I’m not interested. Please leave me alone.”

Before the man can turn away in a huff, another figure appears between us, his sober gait a breath of fresh air in this cramped lounge. “Peter, Peter,” my brother’s fiancé says to the drunken guest, “leave poor Julianna alone. She’s on the mend from a bad breakup. And she’s not like you, Mr. Promiscuous.”

“Bah.” Peter the drunk stumbles away. Jordan, my knight in shining Armani, leans across the bar and tells the bartender in flawless Japanese to cut Peter off. Or to at least severely water down his next shot of sake. “Y’all no fun!” Peter’s voice echoes in the distance.

Jordan takes up residence on the stool next to mine. He props his elbow up on the bar and continues to order himself a cosmopolitan and tells the bartender to top off my beer. As the bartender walks away to fill the order, Jordan says to me, “Before you ask, Ted wanted to know where you were before he took his part of the party elsewhere. Told me he didn’t think you’d be interested, even though there’s going to be girls there.”

To this day, I’m not sure if my brother personally IDs as bisexual or gay, and honestly, I don’t care. But I should’ve guessed that at least one part of this bachelor party would include a copious amount of pussy. Jordan, as far as I know, is not interested in women like that. Something I will never, ever understand. “That doesn’t bother you?”

He shrugs, a consummate gentleman even at his bachelor party. No wonder Ted loves him. He probably sees in him what I see…saw… in Alessa. That eternal innocence in one aspect or another. (Not that I think Jordan is innocent by any stretch of the imagination. But he’s good at giving off an indifferent, sometimes even more aloof-than-a-natural-born Marcon air.Good thing he’s the one changing his last name as of next week because he’ll fit right in.)

“He knows the rules. No touching. Slobbering is fine.”

I wish I could have that much faith in my brother. Great. Now I’m thinking about that time, and after what Alessa put me through, I’d rather not get angry at more than one person.

Somebody keep these drinks coming.

“So, Ted told you what happened?”

“He sort of had to, after I saw the state that you’re in.”

“What did he say?”

“Something about your business partner having your girlfriend’s panties in her office.”

Thanks, Ted. At least now I know Presley was the one who spilled the beans because Vern would never in a million years saypanties. “That’s not the whole story, but it’s the gist.”

Jordan chuckles. “Sometimes, it’s too much fun watching you Marcon siblings flub your relationships. You know, when I’m not caught up in it.”

“I’m sure.” Jordan and Ted have split up before. I know exactly who was at fault, too.

My brother can’t help himself, you see. Which is why I find it hilarious that Jordan trusts him to be surrounded by female sex workers for the final part of his bachelor party… because when it comes to Ted and women he’s not supposed to touch…

“Anyway, sorry to hear about you and Alessa. Real shame. She was the best one I’d seen. Ted begs to differ, though. He says she was second best.”

“Let me guess. Savannah was his favorite.”

Jordan doesn’t say anything. “He’s changed a lot, you know. You can’t tell in everyday scenarios, but he’s done a lot of maturing since those days.”