In This Starless City

My parents had only been gone for about half an hour and any probing thought about whether or not my brother would show up to my party flew out the window. I was laughing and dancing and getting more and more excited about drinking with each passing minute.

I was standing in front of the turntables before the throng of my friends. They were counting down in booming unison the seconds before it was midnight and I was officially twenty-one.

Twenty…nineteen…eighteen…

I glanced down at the table. There was a shot of tequila, some salt, and a lime sitting there, waiting patiently for me while my impatience was causing the knots in my stomach to tighten.

Ten…nine…eight…

My eyes darted around the room and I smiled when I spotted Jack in the audience, counting down with a huge smile on his mouth. When he caught me looking at him, he raised his glass of scotch to me and I smirked at him.

He was on his third or fourth glass and his personality had barely been scathed. Other than his walk being a little off and his movements a little more delayed than normal, you’d hardly notice that he had been drinking if you weren’t standing right next to him.

Five…four…three…two…

I turned my attention to the ingredients before me, picking up the saltshaker and shaking a line onto the back of my hand. I held the shot in my right hang between my thumb and my index finger and the lime between my index and middle fingers.

…ONE!

An air horn sounded from the audience, causing everyone to jump and look around. I jolted myself, almost spilling the tequila, and whirled around to see Brendon and Spencer blowing air horns and spraying silly string into the crowd.

Of course, I thought wryly, glaring them down.

I turned to the audience, noticing Jack clawing his way toward me as I did so. He climbed onto the stage beside me and grasped the mic.

“Here’s to one of many shit-faced nights to come!” he held his glass again and I heard the ice cubes clink against the edges, the coppery liquid sloshing. “Happy birthday, Charlotte.”

I inhaled deeply through my nose, and then without putting much thought to it, I licked the salt off of my hand, downed the shot, and biting back the fire that was billowing up my throat, bit down on the lime quickly.

The crowd was in an uproar. I grimaced as I stuck the dry lime peel in the shot glass and then flipped it upside down on the DJ table. When I turned, Jack had somehow slithered to my side and had the mic to his lips.

“Everyone,” he announced. “Get to the bar and order your favorite drink for the newly legal drunk here!” he pointed to me, widely grinning.

The public cheered and then divided as the music started playing, half of the throng moving toward the bar where Jack had directed them while the other half surged toward the dance floor as the music grew louder and louder.

I was guided through the crowd at the bar—myself and Jack whom I was leading by the hand—as the people split and made a path like the Red Sea. I sat down on the barstool and listened as drinks were ordered. None were the same, which both enticed and frightened me. But Jack was sitting on the stool next to me, and despite the fact that I was facing away from him, I could feel his warmth like there was a space heater on the barstool rather than him.

Though a space heater wasn’t nearly as sexual…

The beverages were beginning to line the bar and I eyed the ones before me while subconsciously taking note of what the bartender was shaking up next. I grabbed a shot of red liquid and downed it, gasping.

Cinnamon Schnapps.

Not waiting o let the fire in my throat simmer, I grabbed a glass and swallowed it in two gulps. It was a lighter martini, but it was an odd sour and bitter taste. I didn’t like that. Or the green olive in it.

I got so caught up in pounding down drinks that I didn’t realize Jack’s fingers had slid out of mine and he’d disappeared in the crowd of people. His warmth was gone though I might not have notice quickly enough because of the inferno in my throat and stomach.

Brendon Urie appeared on the barstool in front of me, holding a shot of copper liquid. “To the iron liver,” he handed me another. I looked at with wary pleasure, and then, clinked the rim with Brendon’s and tipped it into my mouth and swallowed hard, and then coughed and gagged and felt my eyes water.

Fire whiskey.

“Holy shit, Bren,” I say huskily as he beamed at me, proud that he downed that with just a wince to show for it. I inhaled and tried to catch my breath. “Okay, that’s enough. I don’t want to be completely hammered for the rest of this tour.”

Those of my friends that hadn’t had the opportunity at my gag reflex sighed and groaned and the crowd at the bar dispersed.

I wanted to find Jack and was walking toward the dance floor where I figured he would be, but I only got about ten feet from the bar when I stumbled forward. To my surprise, two arms broke my fall and a distant but very familiar chuckle sounded above me.

“Got two left feet, little sister?” I looked up to see Shawn smiling down at me. My former anger toward him vanished instantly and I threw my arms around him in a tight embrace. He swung me around in a few circles.

“I didn’t think you were going to make it,” I murmured into his shoulder and his arms tightened for a second.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he said when he had replaced me on my feet. “I’m sorry I was late. I got here right after your first shot.”

“That hardly qualifies as late,” I brushed his shame off and smiled at him. “You’re here now so let’s get a table and talk. I haven’t seen you in years!”

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We’d been sitting for about ten minutes and after shooing away every musician that came my way with a drink, I finally looked at him and smiled.

“By your breath, I’d say that I was quite late getting here.” He laughs, waving a hand in front of his face. “How many have you had?”

I tried to think back. I was shocked at how blurred my memory was after only an hour. “Five,” I answered. “But in my defense, I didn’t know what they were. They were just handed to me by my minions.” I held my hands up and gestured around the club. Shawn shook his head, chuckling.

“Are all of these morons treating you right? Do I need to be introduced to any of them?”

“They’re all the appropriate amount of moron for hormonal twenty-one-year-old males,” I covered for all of them. “But there is one I’d like you to meet.”

Shawn raised his eyebrows. “You got yourself a boy?”

The thought made my stomach roll and my mouth to instantly curve upward. “Kind of,” I had stood from the booth and was on my tippy toes, scanning the crowd for Jack’s baseball cap.

“Who is he?” Shawn asks, standing beside me and trying to follow my gaze.

I finally spotted him. “Wait right here,” I started to walk away. “I’ll bring him to you.”

I weaved my way through the crowd, following the site of Jack’s hat, but it was moving in a strange, static motion and I kept losing it and then having to find it again. Luckily my brother had gotten the patient gene from my father.

I caught a glimpse of the hat again, fairly close this time, and darted for it, breaking through a small wall of people, which brought me right to the hat and Jack.

But that wasn’t the only thing that I was shown to.

Jack was there, alright, but he wasn’t alone and the hat wasn’t on his head. He was grinding on some wannabe scene chick.

I thought I would be sick right then and there. The white-hot hatred in my brain fired downward while the cool, green jealousy shot upward, and the two collided in my chest, causing my heart to ache and pound in short-fused betrayal and confusion.

I wanted to turn and run, but I was rooted to the spot. Standing there, unmoving, in a throng of dancing bodies, just staring as the guy that I was in love with thrusted against a girl he probably barely knew. His hands were running down her front and hers were on the back of his neck, keeping his head down close to her ear where I could see he was whispering something to her, something that was making her smile an evil smile, a knowing smile.

Paranoia set in and I wondered if he even knew I was standing there. Was he whispering to that whore about me?

The lava-like hatred that was pouring out of my brain was cooling when it got to my chest, causing my pained heart to numb and turn to stone.

And finally, the song ended and the bitch and Jack stopped moving and while she took her hands off of him, he kept his on hers while he looked up.

His eyes snapped to me instantly and the alcohol that had left them filmy before was gone. There was nothing there except the guilt that I didn’t believe. He was nothing to me anymore.

I turned quickly and shoved my way through the crowd, ignoring Jack as he called my name behind me. I knew he was coming after me; I could hear him shoving the people out of the way as I did.

So I moved more quickly, taking erratic turns within the mass of people to try to shake Jack off. Finally, despite his greatest efforts and persistence, I had gotten away from him by doubling back and hiding behind some people. He continued on, looking for me wildly.

I didn’t want to give him a chance to try and get close to the fleshy, vulnerable core of my heart. I didn’t want to hear any excuses he might be able to come up with through his little lying teeth. But those were thing only things I knew I wanted. Otherwise, I was just making up a plan as I moved toward the glowing green EXIT sign.

I got to the door and something drew my eyes to my side. It was the booth where my brother sat, waiting to meet “my boy”. Like an old movie, his eyes flickered to me and he was on his feet and moving toward me within a few seconds. He knew something was wrong just by looking at me, and while I had been wishing the worst for Jack for the last minute and a half I’d spent running from him, the last exposed part of my heart didn’t want anything to happen to him by my brother’s doing.

So, before Shawn could get to me, I opened the door and darted out of the building, down the alley and out onto the street.

It was raining and I was reminded of the time on All Time Low’s bus when I told him about that cheating bitch he had been with. We’d come half circle from there. Too bad I was cutting this line off.

I kept running, turning down corners and alleys until I knew I was at least twenty blocks away. I was wheezing, my lungs were searing, and my knees were shaking and weak.

I was surprised with how well I could still get myself around in London even though I hadn’t lived there for years.

After only an hour, I was out of the city area and then an hour after that, I was in the residential area. I wondered where I was walking to but I was in no mental condition to be thinking too much. So I just let my feet go wherever they please, knowing that they had a place in mind.

And then, I stopped and sat down on a curb, looking up at a house with no lights on inside. It looked to be abandoned and several of the windows had been smashed out with rocks. The swing set in the front yard had taken on a rusty red color over its shiny chrome paint and the swings creaked back and forth in the breeze.

This was my old house. After I’d left for America, my parents were alone in the big empty house and they decided to move somewhere smaller and farther out of town, and while I figured I could, I didn’t plan on walking that far.

I just sat there, staring up at the house that I had grown up in. Just sitting five hundred feet from it was enough for me. I felt more at peace on that wet, cold curb that I had ever felt in New York City.

A part of me wanted to ditch the new world and stay here in London again. I could find all of my old friends, make amends, get a decent job, and live a happy life.

However, a larger part of me knew that I could never drop music or my boys. While I felt at peace there in London, I knew I could never feel more at home than in New York City with my band, or on stage with my bass.

We would be going back to the US tomorrow night after our show here in London. Everyone knew we’d sleep on the plane and when we got back, we’d be rested enough to play our last show in Washington D.C.

But would I be okay?

I yanked my phone out of my coat pocket, ignoring all the texts, missed calls, and voicemails I’d gotten, and checked the time. Four A.M. I’d been sitting on the curb for a little over two hours.

The rain had let up and it was now just cold and crisp and clean outside. I walked back toward the downtown area slowly, not wishing to face my worried brother, my fearful bandmates, or the prick.

But finally, around six in the morning when the sun was just coming over the horizon, I got to my hotel room. I peeled my soaked clothes off and changed into some clean, dry jeans and a black tee, pulling on my hoodie too. It would be a cooler day today from the rain and I was looking for any reason to keep my hood up, shielding me from the rest of the world.

I fixed my hair, my makeup, and changed my shoes and socks, and then went downstairs to the breakfast area, sitting down with a cup of cocoa and waiting for the berating to begin.

Nathan was the first to spot me when he came out of the elevator for breakfast. He called upstairs to Oliver and Brandon and they joined him within the minute. They all sat down at the table with me and asked me question after question, sometimes sounding furious, sometimes worried, other times regretful.

“I went for a walk,” I said, half truthfully. “All of the alcohol was getting to me and I needed some fresh air. But it was raining and I didn’t want to get my phone out and risk dropping it down a drain.”

“And you couldn’t have come back inside and told us you were leaving?” Oliver inquired, put off.

“I thought you’d know I was heading back here,” I shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

I could see on their faces that they wanted to be pissed, but I knew that deep down they couldn’t. They probably knew exactly what had set me off and they probably wanted to tell me how everything would be all right. But they knew better by now.

The elevator doors opened and Alex and Zack and Rian walked out. I watched, expecting to see Jack with that girl from last night, but he was alone, a different hat on his head which was hanging dejectedly. Alex, Zack, and Rian all shouted when they saw me sitting there with my guys and I noticed Jack’s shoulders hunch a little. His eyes rose to meet me from under the bill on his hat, but I looked away, folding my arms on the table in front of me.

They were asking me about last night and how I felt today. I had forgotten about how much alcohol I’d consumed. I should’ve been hung over, but I wasn’t. I felt fine other than the excruciating pain under my rib cage.

Oliver reached forward and ran his thumb under my eye and I looked at him oddly.

Only then did I realize that my eyes had been watering since I sat down.