Page 11 of Meet Me at the Metro (Gildenhill #1)

11

WATCHING YOU, WATCHING ME

E L L I E

I t’s nearly impossible to recognize the contour of my body as I inspect my reflection in the dressing room mirror.

The palms of my hands smooth up the soft, velvet material of the royal blue dress, tightly clinging to the natural curves of my body. My fingers tug the dress’ thin spaghetti straps back up to my shoulders for the fifteenth time since I put on the bold garment. I shift side-to-side, judging and inspecting every angle of myself. The material stretches tight over my torso and ass, and my nerves tingle with surprise at how well it actually fits.

“Evie... this dress ... I don’t know what to think about it.”

“Get your arse out here and let me see the damn thing on you!”

For a moment, I hesitate to answer that request, but knowing her, if I don’t do as she asks, she’ll probably just storm into my fitting room herself.

So, I pull back the cloth curtain shielding me and try to brush away my lingering insecurities as I step out to reveal the outfit she so vehemently picked out for me.

“See what I mean? I think it might be a little too much.”

“Are you actually fucking kidding me?” Evie’s jaw drops as her eyes rake over the length of me. “You look so good, Ellie —so bloody good . You have to buy it. I’m not giving you an option. That’s the one. ”

Evie sports a completely different attire than I do: a black and white pantsuit hugging tight around her tiny framed body. She completes the look with a pair of black stilettos. The inky and chalky colors of the suit are so different from the rainbow palette I usually see her wearing, but somehow, she manages to make the neutral colors appear just as vibrant.

“You look so good,” I retort. As I look back down at my dress and compare it to her sleek and simple attire, I suddenly feel even more unsure than when I had initially put it on. “Are you sure mine looks okay? It’s not too much?”

“Too much? There’s no such thing.”

Evie would say that.

“Could you at least tell me what Harvey’s performing tonight?” I plead, hoping this girl isn’t tricking me into standing out at some casual attire event.

“Absolutely not. I swore to secrecy. He wants it to be a surprise, and I plan to keep it that way. Besides, me telling you isn’t going to change the fact that you will be buying that dress, and you will be wearing it tonight.”

“But Evie.” I begin to pace. “This dress is so out of my comfort zone. What if people think—”

“Let me stop you right there,” she interrupts, waving a reprimanding finger in front of my face. “First of all, who the hell cares what anyone thinks? Life begins at the end of your comfort zone. Haven’t you heard that saying before? Stop being afraid of what people will think. You look hot. And deep down, I know that you know you look hot, and that’s pretty much all that fucking matters. So buy the dress.”

I peer through the open curtain of my fitting room, inspecting myself in the full-body mirror once more. Somehow, after her little pep-talk, I’m starting to believe that my ass really is looking good in this dress. “Okay... fine . You’re right. I’ll buy the dress.”

“Hell, yes! People aren’t going to be able to take their eyes off you tonight, Ellie.”

“Oh God, don’t say that.” I blush as we return to our dressing rooms and continue our conversation through the walls. “That sounds like a nightmare. ”

“ A nightmare?! Isn’t having people stare at you what you’re literally going to school for? You literally sing and perform under bloody spotlights with a whole audience watching you.”

I laugh. “It’s not the same. It’s different on stage. People aren’t watching me up there,” I explain, peeling the sapphire fabric away from my body. “They’re watching a character.”

“Well then, maybe I should change my major.”

“So you can play a character? You already are one,” I tease.

“Yeah, but maybe I could play a different one that isn’t a horny, outgoing bitch with a rubbish taste in men!” Evie’s boisterous cackle shakes the walls. “Now, let’s pay for our shit and get some food! With all the drinks we’ll have tonight, we’ll need all the carbohydrates we can get.”

I shimmy down the end of my short, bodycon dress as we step into Gullie’s and attempt to ignore my sudden regret about the outfit I chose tonight.

The bar has a rustic feel to it, holding a unique charm with its burgundy brick walls and weathered, darkly stained wood panel floors. Sweaty bodies occupy the limited spaces along the walls and the tall, circular tables spread throughout the building. Evie grips my hand and weaves us through the swaying crowd gathered here tonight as classic rock music echoes from the small stage, attracting attention at the rear end of the establishment. Crimson and sapphire lights dance through the smoke billowing above everyone’s heads as we move toward the bar.

“Let’s get some drinks,” Evie insists.

“Yeah,” I nod eagerly, trailing behind her as she elbows through the sea of bodies congested around the bartop. It’s absolute chaos over here, various voices overlapping one another as they shout their drink requests over the music to the several bartenders behind the counter.

Evie manages to squeeze us into one of the far corners, and it isn’t until she shouts, “Theo!” that I remember the nauseating truth that he works here.

I immediately mumble a curse under my breath. “ Mother fucker. ”

“Huh?” Evie squints. “You say something?”

“N-no. It’s nothing,” I lie, forcing a smile to my face despite how wreckless my nerves have suddenly become.

My eyes catch sight of him at the other end of the bar. His back is to us as he works, and he moves swiftly, mixing drinks and filling beer glasses. I hate myself for how long I allow myself to watch him, examining how nicely his black t-shirt fits along the ridges of his muscular back. The short sleeves of his top put the tattoos running down the lengths of his arms on full display, and I use the ink to excuse the way my stare lingers on him for so long.

His dark-blonde hair—so perfectly disheveled—falls against his brow as he works, and his biceps and forearms look so powerful and strong as he mixes the cocktail shaker in his large hands.

It stirs an awful flutter in my stomach.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” Evie says flatly.

I jerk my head toward her. “No, I-I was—”

“Staring. Hard. Yeah, I know,” she retorts with a saccharine smile. Her playful, chestnut eyes remain on me for several seconds, studying me. “And so you say nothing is going on between you two?”

“Nothing is going on between us. I swear.”

“ Hmm ,” she huffs, returning her eyes to Theo, who still hasn’t managed to notice the two of us. Against my internal wishes, she shouts to him again, “THEO!”

His head turns at that, but I quickly dart my eyes away, feeling intensely timid and apprehensive about the idea of him seeing me—especially in this dress.

“Ellie, he’s not going to bite. Stop looking so scared of him.”

Stop looking so scared of him.

I shouldn’t let the remark get under my skin so much, but it does, and it scalds my ego in more ways than I would like to admit. Besides, it couldn’t be further from the truth because it’s not Theo himself I’m scared of… it’s how my body reacts whenever he’s around that scares me. It’s the way it always seems to want to gravitate toward him, even in the instances where our tense encounters should make me feel deterred.

“What can I get for you guys?” I’m so relieved at the sound of that voice, feminine and soft, and everything opposite of what Theo’s would have been.

“Negroni for me,” Evie tells the ginger-haired bartender. “What do you want, Ellie? I can open a tab, and you can Venmo me for your drinks later or something.”

I debate what I want as my eyes involuntarily sweep past the woman before me toward the tall bartender lingering several feet away. I quickly force my gaze away from him and decide, “Could I get a shot of— well, actually, two shots— of whiskey, please?”

“You got it.”

“Blimey, Ellie!” Evie smiles. “Starting the night off strong, are we?”

“You know what they say,” I shrug. “Liquor is quicker.”

“Trying to take the edge off?” She throws a side-long glance at the person my eyes are intentionally avoiding and informs, “He’s looking over here, you know?”

“I don’t care,” I scoff, even though I’m certain that she and I both know I’m absolutely full of shit. My heart feels like a butterfly in my chest, but I keep my composure as calm and collected as possible. “I just wanna have some fun tonight, Evie. No grumpy men. No cares. Just fun.”

With perfect timing, the lady returns with our drinks and hands them to us. “Can I go ahead and get two more of these, please?” I quickly ask the bartender before she stalks away.

Evie gapes at me. “Oh, this is such a pleasant surprise.” My friend lifts her drink up high and toasts, “Here’s to a fun-ass night, Miss Mattice!”

“To a fun-ass night,” I repeat, gulping back my two drinks right after the other. The next two shots are slid across the bartop, and I don’t give myself time to anticipate how bitter the alcohol tastes before I quickly throw them back.

“Atta girl!” Evie claps me on the back. “Now come on, Harvey should be performing any minute.”

As my friend leads us toward the stage, I don’t spare another look behind the bar. We find our spots close to the edge of the runway just as the band gives their final thanks to the audience. It doesn’t take them long to pack up and step off the stage, and my eyes adjust to the new lighting of the room as it dims.

A single spotlight falls at the center of the stage, and music instantly begins booming through the speakers. A pair of long legs in fishnet stockings and heels come strutting down the runway, and the crowd absolutely loses it. Screams and shouts rip through the air as the tall and feminine figure moves, commanding the audience’s full attention as she shimmies in her black, sparkling corset leotard. Her voluminous, curly, and blinding-white hair bounces on her head as she sways to the blaring song’s rhythm.

As I watch the woman perform a series of movements— I’m absolutely positive I could never manipulate my body to do —I admire the eccentric, neon makeup painted on her face. Her fluorescent-green lips match perfectly to the shade of her heels, while her high cheekbones are dusted with a bright pink blush. As the beat of the music begins to pick up, so does the beat in her step, and as she sweeps down the runway, I can swear that her eyes concentrate on Evie and me.

Sure enough, she reaches us and bends right before us so I can admire her closer. She smiles and mouths over the music, “This one’s for you, Ellie!”

I look back and forth between Evie and the dazzling queen, and suddenly, it all clicks.

Harvey. OH MY GOD! Harvey’s a drag queen!

I’m grinning so hard it hurts. “Holy shit!”

“See! The surprise was worth it, wasn’t it?!”

“So worth it!”

“Her name’s Charlamaine!”

The beat drops for the chorus, and right on cue with the resonating bass, Charlamaine drops down onto the stage, legs splitting wide open. The crowd and I lose it when she crawls on the floor, seductively lip-singing the song’s words. I’m not sure whether it’s the four shots I took at the bar or the influence of the rambunctious energy all around me, but every one of my limbs tingles. Evie and I dance to the music, swaying our bodies alongside each other as the buzz of the alcohol settles over us.

Before I knew what was happening, Charlamaine was in front of us again and stretching her arm to me. “Come on, sweetie!”

I pull back against her hold, shaking my head in bashful refusal.

“If you don’t get your arse up there and dance, I will!” Evie yells, giving me a playful shove from behind.

I don’t know what the hell comes over me as I allow Charlamaine to pull me up onto the stage.

My eyes sweep over the crowd before me, my heart pounding relentlessly as I quickly become aware of the countless sets of eyes pinned on me. For a moment, those inspecting stares are enough to convince me to head right back off the stage, but Charlamaine yanks me back. Her long fingers weave into mine and provide me with the greatest sense of comfort.

Before I know it, the adrenaline of my performance takes over, and I’m losing myself to the music. My hands snake across my bust and smooth down the velvet material that clings to the curves of my upper legs. I throw my head back, enjoying the inebriated haze clouding my mind as I roll my hips and push my ass out for the crowd to see. They roar with elated shouts and hollers, stuffing me with more confidence.

This feels absolutely fucking incredible.

The thin straps of my dress slip past my shoulder as I dance. I smile as I pull them back up, and that’s the precise moment my eyes meet his .

Theo wears a light-hearted smile that I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing before, and for reasons I’m unsure of, another bolt of courage strikes me.

I step back to create bigger movements, apparently trying to impress who I initially attempted to avoid tonight, but my foot finds no traction against the floor. In my next breath, gravity is working against and pulling me off the edge of the stage. My body makes a sickening thud as it crashes into the hard tile floor and knocks the wind out of me.

The crowd gasps and quickly gathers around me. My ears are ringing with the loud music still booming through the bar, but I work on catching my breath again. A body breaks through the encircled mob of people, but it isn’t until I’m sat up and placed flush against that person’s chest that I realize who it is.

“Bloody hell, you alright?” Theo’s gentle fingers intertwine into the hair on the back of my head, supporting it. “You fell hard, Nora. Shit . Did you hit your head?”

“No,” I groan, a throbbing ache still coursing through my body. I grit my teeth against the pain and lie, “All good.”

“Is she okay?” Harvey hollers from the stage.

Evie breaks through the sea of bodies still gathered and crouches beside me, frowning as she brushes a few disheveled hair pieces out of my face. “Oh, you poor thing. Are you okay?”

“I’m mortified!”

“Don’t be mortified! You looked so cunty on that stage. So fucking cheeky! You made me a proud roommate tonight!”

I replay what just happened to me over again in my head, and my whole body starts shaking with boisterous laughter.

“Nora, are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

“No, Teddyyy ,” I snort, my words slurring slightly.

There’s a twinge of pain in my arm, and it isn’t until I hold it out that I see a trail of blood trickling past my elbow to my wrist. My eyes follow its track to see a deep, bright red laceration carved into my skin.

“ Well, shiiit .”

Theo’s eyes widen at the fresh wound. Without hesitation, he rips off his black apron and starts to wrap it around my arm. “I’m taking her home, Evie. G-give me your key.”

She throws him a troubled look but digs through her small purse anyway. “I don’t think this would be the best idea, Theo... I can take her back.”

“I’m not going home!” I protest, attempting to pull myself out of his grip. “The night was just starting to get fun, you damn party poppers!”

“You mean poopers? You are so drunk, bitch.”

“Stay still,” Theo commands, retightening the apron. “Y-you’re bleeding, Nora. Please.”

I give him a hard glare, but the desperation in his tone has my chest tightening. So, I stay still for him as he finishes covering up my wound.

“Seriously, mate, I can take her back home,” Evie insists, forcing a reassuring smile on her face.

“You’ve been drinking too. J-just let me deal with this, alright? Christ. Just let me help.”

Evie looks at me for approval, and I surprise myself when I refrain from protesting the idea any further. “Okay, fine— okay. Just please, promise me you’ll call if you feel like you’re going to have another episo—”

“I’ve got this, Evie,” he interrupts before I can hear the rest of that statement.

Without another word, Theo wraps his arm around my back and pulls me against him as he leads us through the staring crowd and out the bar’s back door. I look back one last time, finding my two roommates whispering to each other as they watch us leave.

As we step outside, I pout, “I don’t wanna go home.”

“We’ve got to get you cleaned up, Nora.”

“Whatever,” I huff. “Fine.”

Though a part of me, one that I will never outwardly acknowledge, feels excited to admit that Theo is coming home with me tonight.