Page 38 of Merry Fake Bride

With a groan, I turn to head back inside only for the bouncer to block me with his meaty hand.

“We’re closed.”

“I know it’s last call,” I say, stepping back from him. “But my friends are still inside.”

“Nice try.”

“No, really! I literally came out here because it’s quiet and I have better reception to book an Uber.”

“Then book your Uber.”

“But my phone died!” I brandish the dead device in his face. “So I need my friends’ help.”

“No one is allowed in after last call.”

“I’m not trying to get in, I’m trying to getbackin because I was already in!” It’s difficult to manage my frustration in the cold but the second he raises his hand again, I step further back. “Please.”

“No. We’re closed. Wait for your friends here if they’re even real.”

As he talks, a sharp rumble booms overhead and a split second later, the skies open and rain pours down in sheets, drenching me within seconds.

I make eye contact with the bouncer as he steps backward under the overhanging to protect himself from the rain and crosses his large arms over his chest.

“Are you seriously not going to let me in?” I call over the rising sound of the rain bouncing off the tarmac and the metal shutters.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Wait.” He shrugs. “Or find a cab.”

“What cab will take me without payment?” I snap, waving my dead phone. “I’m contactless on here!”

The bouncer shrugs once more and looks away, ending our conversation.

My frustration builds but it’s quickly replaced by despair and fear.

Waiting here will be the death of me in this storm, but finding a cab that will take me all the way back home on such a large charge based onfaiththat I’ll pay them when we get there?

That’s impossible in this city.

Not with how far away my parents’ home is.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” I yell at the bouncer before stomping away through the puddle-filled streets.

The rain pours without mercy and with the sharp, freezing wind whipping it in all directions, it’s not long before I’m soaked to the bone and frozen to boot.

The dark, unfamiliar streets get longer and longer as I wander aimlessly searching for an open fast-food place that will allow me to charge my phone.

Unfortunately, most of the city is closed and I’m walking from shadow to shadow with no hope.

My heart pounds faster and faster.

My hands and feet tremble with each step and I’m so drenched that my shoes feel like sludge.

The only thing remaining somewhat dry is my cast as I huddle around my arm.

Suddenly, as I stand at a crosswalk staring into a yawning dark street that threatens to swallow me whole, the rain stops.