Page 133 of The Compass Series

“I’ll wait for you,” he gently stated, repeating the same exchange we had earlier when I told him I’d wait for him to begin the film. I swore for a moment he smiled, but it was gone as fast as it appeared. I parted my lips to reply, but he shook his head. “Go.”

So, I went.

Jeff wasn’t a fun drunk. Quite the opposite, honestly. I knew whenever he had a big gig coming up, he’d try to use alcohol to calm his nerves. Unfortunately, he didn’t know his limit and was a professional at surpassing it.

“Jeff, what are you doing?” I asked as I approached Forty-Four nightclub to find my drunk partner sitting on the bench outside the club with his gear beside him.

He stood and muttered something as he stumbled toward me. “Can you believe these stuck-up assholes? They kicked me out!” he blurted.

There was a line to get into the nightclub, and a pool of embarrassment hit my gut as everyone stared at us. I wrapped my arms around the drunken six-foot-two man who was slouched against me and whispered, “It’s fine. Let’s just get you home. Where are your keys?”

He muttered something unrecognizable.

“Hey, lady, you gotta get him out of here,” the bouncer said with lowered brows and eyes packed with annoyance.

“Suck my dick, asshole,” Jeff shouted as he grabbed his junk through his jeans in the palm of his hand. Mortified didn’t even begin to describe what I was feeling.

“Stop it, Jeff,” I whisper-shouted, pulling him along.

“Hey, baby, you can suck my dick, too, if you want.” He turned my way and booped my nose. Shockingly, blow jobs were the last thing on my mind. I would’ve much rather been at home watching Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds fictionally fall in love.

I got him into the car after a few more crass comments from him.

Then I tossed his equipment into the back of my car.

Equipment that looked significantly nicer than what I was used to him having.

Which would definitely be a discussion for another day.

How had he found the money to buy those turntables?

After shutting the trunk, I climbed into the driver’s seat of the car and looked at my wasted boyfriend swaying back and forth in his seat, completely sozzled. An odd tingle hit my gut as I turned the key in the ignition. “Do you have your house keys, Jeff?” I asked.

“Do you have your house keys, Jeff?” he replied, mocking me.

I knew I couldn’t get him back to his place without said keys, and the more I tried to engage with him, the more annoyed I grew.

“Forget it. You’ll just stay with me tonight,” I declared, but he didn’t seem to mind or even notice my comment. He was too busy untying his shoes and tossing them on my dashboard as he went on and on about some new music artists that I was too uncool to know about—his words, not mine.

When we pulled up to the property, Jeff was still talking nonstop, some gibberish, some words I could pinpoint, and some comments that hurt my feelings a little.

I dragged him into the house with him leaning against me. As I opened the front door, I stood in front of Damian, who stared at the situation before him. He looked stunned but didn’t say a word.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “He couldn’t find his apartment keys, and well, he’ll have to stay here tonight.”

Damian nodded in understanding.

Jeff looked up and smirked. “You must be my girl’s new roommate.”

“I am,” Damian dryly replied.

“Just don’t sleep with her,” Jeff shot out. He stumbled over to Damian and patted him on the back. “Unless that gets us a few extra millions.” He laughed, though the comment wasn’t comical at all.

Damian looked at me with a baffled stare before he took a few steps back from Jeff, who lost his footing. My boyfriend fumbled to the ground, laughing as if he was experiencing one of the funniest moments of his life, and I stood there horrified.

“You’d be shocked at how fast I’d whore her out if it meant a few million. And she’d go with it, too, right, baby?”

“Stop it, Jeff,” I scolded, feeling my cheeks heat.

“Stop it, Jeff,” he mocked before looking up at Damian. “Does she parent you all the time, too? I swear, this woman stays up my ass so much, you’d think I’d be interested in being fucked by dildos.”

“Jeff!” I hissed, mortified. My stare locked with Damian and his bluest of blue eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t reply. He simply turned away and went back to his office, closing the door behind him.

“I cannot believe you right now, Jeff!” I exclaimed as he dragged himself to a standing position. He was out of his mind that evening, and I wasn’t certain I’d ever be able to live down the embarrassment he placed on me in front of Damian.

“Hush, woman. It was a joke,” he mumbled as he hiccupped.

“So, are you going to suck my dick, or should I just go to sleep?” he asked, rubbing his hand against his crotch area.

Nothing turned me off more than an intoxicated Jeff.

It was the reason I never allowed alcohol into our house.

He never really knew his limit, I didn’t very much like the person he became when he drank.

After showing him to one of the spare rooms, I was relieved when he flopped onto the bed and was out cold within mere seconds. Good. I couldn’t handle much more of his antics.

I went to the living room and began cleaning up all of my snacks and such from the movie night that ended too soon.

“I can get that stuff,” a voice said, and I turned to find Damian standing behind me. His hands were slipped into his sweatpants pockets, and he stood tall and stern, unlike my boyfriend.

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I figured you wouldn’t want to finish watching the movie after witnessing that situation.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“What?”

“Your boyfriend. Did he hurt you?”

I laughed slightly, confused by his comments. “What? Of course not. He’s just drunk and?—”

“Belittles you.”

My body reacted to his words as chills raced down my spine. I shook my head. “I know it might seem that way, and I’m sorry for how he presented himself.”

“It’s not your job to apologize for a man.”

“Yes, no, I know, but…” Why was he being so short and snappy toward me? Why was he making this out to be something it wasn’t? “Jeff… he’s not himself when he’s drunk.”

“I’ve seen men like him,” he said. “He’s more himself now than when he’s sober.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“I know enough.”

“Listen, I don’t know what you think you know, but you don’t. You have no clue what my situation is with Jeff and?—”

“I truly hope that ass backs you up behind his back the way you defend him. But I doubt it.”

He was being extremely cold to me, and I didn’t know why. Sure, Jeff was drunk and said a few off-color comments, but it was nothing that called for Damian to react in the way he had. He was taking it overboard for some reason, but I couldn’t understand why.

“Why do you care, anyway?” I asked.

“I don’t.”

“Then maybe it’s best if you mind your own business,” I said, rubbing my hand up and down my arm.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“Good night, Damian.”

He didn’t reply, which wasn’t shocking.

After cleaning up, I headed outside toward the ocean, wanting to feel close to both Mama and Kevin. The waves crashed against the shore, and I walked out into the water, wanting to wash away all my insecurities.

I wanted to wash away Jeff’s outburst and drunkenness. I wanted to peel away Damian’s coldness and commentary. I wanted to be free of all outside criticism.

So, I submerged myself beneath the waves, and I begged my ancestors to heal me.