Page 44 of Dirty Roulette

Chapter twenty-nine

Payton

There is nothing sadder than plotting out my life like a B-rated horror movie. I always imagined the worst possible outcome, and since Charlie barged into the room with Ryder and I, everything I feared manifested into reality.

Most of Charlie's belongings in the dorm were packed up and she hasn’t been back since.

The room is empty, and it makes it a million times harder to gather any courage to take back what I said to Ryder.

I’ve plotted dozens of scenarios in trying to fix everything – daydream about how it could be sunshines and daisies but I can’t change anything.

I haven’t eaten much this week and I skipped class for the past three days. My biggest accomplishment was oversleeping.

The one thing Charlie left was the ticket to Noah’s concert on my bed. It gave me a bit of hope she still wanted me as a friend.

I stand in line, surrounded by the pitch blackness of night at the venue.

The air was thick with sweat and the pungent aroma of earthy herbals.

When I reach the security, I hand them my ticket, and they scan me in.

I stroll in and catch Noah leaning with one foot against a brick wall.

He scrolls through his phone and picks up his head, spotting me.

“Hey, I didn’t think you would show up.” His almond eyes light up, and the half smile pulls my feet to walk up to him.

I tug on my long sleeves to cover up my hands. Pushing a strand of hair behind my ear I ask, “Is Charlie here?”

He raises a brow and sucks in a deep breath. “She’s been avoiding me all afternoon. I’m not entirely sure if she’s gonna show up.”

“I guess you heard about me and Ryder, then.” I bite my bottom lip.

Noah curls his lips inwards and nods his head. “Yeah, why didn’t you just tell her?” He shrugs his shoulders like it should have been easy.

“I didn’t know how I felt about Ryder... but that doesn’t matter anymore. I ruined that friendship too.”

“I think we both need a drink.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a green wristband. “Here,” he says. It’s stamped with the VIP and twenty-one label. “Hold out your wrist.”

I do, and he places it around my arm snugly. “Don’t tell anyone, but now you can party. There’s a lounge where you can get drinks.”

“Thanks.” I fiddle with the thick band. “When do you go on?”

“We’re the third opener. So... in about ninety minutes.” He slips his phone into his back pocket and lifts up his chin. When I follow him ahead I spot Omen, Vince, and Tony ushering him to follow them.

“I gotta go. Have fun,” Noah rushes off with the band members.

I found the VIP lounge. The walls are black as night, the floor a rustic wood.

Dim orange light bulbs hang from the ceiling on thin wires.

They have rows of all sorts of alcohol behind a man with the darkest circles around his eyes.

He’s flipping his vape between his fingers and taking a puff.

Smoke pools out of his nose and it's official, his name is now Sleepy Eyes.

“What do you want?” He asks.

“Just a beer is fine.” He snags a red cup and pours me beer from one of the taps.

“Thanks...” I mutter. People swarm in here, indulging themselves in whatever they can paw their hands on.

The crowd erupts in a deafening roar, and the first cord strikes on the guitar.

Drums and bass pound. The singer’s guttural growls hit the mic.

I head over and stare out into the pit where the group of people are pushing and shoving.

I walk down the flight of stairs leading to the stage with flashing lights and towering amplifiers.

Fans scream the lyrics with the singer who roars the song at the top of his lungs.

Drums shake the concrete as I get closer and find my way to the pit.

My tongue is cotton on the roof of my mouth, and sips from the beer only make my mouth dryer.

The band goes through four songs and I’m pressed against a railing made from rusty pipes.

A surging crowd squishes and packs me tight like saran wrap.

The singer goes into a speech about how happy they are for everyone who came out, and something settling at the bottom of my stomach tells me to turn around. When I swivel my head to the staircase, my heart drops to the floor.

Brody burns into my retinas as the singer cues the band to play their final song.

I watch the Antichrist march straight to the mosh pit where skinny dudes are kicking and pushing without care.

He’s like a troll stampeding through them with his stocky muscles glistening in the multicolored strobe lights.

My imagination manifested the illusion of him chopping up my body parts and stuffing the remains into a suitcase.

Watching in the crowd, I spot Charlie, and he’s a magnet picking her out.

A thousand needles pour down my throat. I push and shove through the crowd with my beer high up above my head.

I’m stomping on toes and snaking around people.

Body heat envelops me, and I’m sweltering in an oven within seconds.

My eyes don’t leave Charlie and when she’s inches away, I snatch her wrist.

“Let go!” She yanks her arm back and swivels around, but the second her eyes lay on me I read her lips saying, “Oh it’s you.”

“Brody is here!” I yell straight into her ear.

Her gray eyes flood with concern. “Who?”

“Brody!”

I push a couple of unruly strands of hair away from my face and chug down the cheap stale beer in my hands.

“You have to be kidding me!” She shouts over the music.

“No!”

“You realize I’m still mad at you?” Charlie waves her freshly manicured fingers at me.

“I don’t care, he’s a sociopath!” I holler over the roar into her ear.

“That doesn’t change the fact that my best friend of almost fifteen years lied to me! I need to go talk to him.”

“No, don't!”

She shoos away the comment and snakes around the crowd to meet up with Brody.

I throw my red cup to the ground and stare at the thick gold texture and foam spreading around my feet. I kick the damn cup with my brain in overdrive. I want to pull out Charlie’s hair, spit in Brody’s face, and wallow in self-pity all at the same time.

I don’t know how I feel anymore, but something tells me not to leave her alone with him.

Blue streaming lights beam off different faces. I’m sick to my stomach, watching hands thrown up in the air, and everyone’s in sync with the beat. The lights flash on Brody and I squeeze through the mob.

My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach, watching Charlie wrap her arms around his neck, giving him a light hug.

“Oh look, it’s Trash!” He hovers over me. I catch him linking hands with Charlie. He licks his lips and leans into Charlie’s ear. “Let’s get some drinks!”

Something feels off.

“Sure, I gotta pee, and I’m thirsty.” She agrees, and I’m dumbfounded enough my mouth drops open.

“No! Charlie, wait!” I push and shove through thick bodies to catch up with them. But they’re gone.