My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon

Three hours later I was sitting at a bar, keeping a close eye on all of the guys. To celebrate Frank's birthday after the show, they decided to all go out and get piss drunk.
I myself had had barely any alcohol, as it was the best way to make sure none of the guys did anything stupid while they were under my care.

I glanced around the bar, spotting Ray and Bob sitting at a table together. Mikey was on the dance floor with Alicia, who had joined us in Orlando just today. Gerard was surrounded by a bunch of drunk girls, and Frank was down at the other end of the bar.
I felt someone sit down beside me and turned to see a man in about his mid twenties. He was slightly good looking, and reeked of beer.

“Hey there.” He slurred to me, looking me up and down before smiling at me, “Bartender!” He called suddenly, “Get this pretty lady a drink!”

“Oh, no thanks-” I started, interrupted by the man as he scooted his stool closer to mine.
“What's your name?” He asked, his breath causing my nose to crinkle with disgust.

“Urgh.” I turned away from him, pushing my stool farther down the bar.

“Ooh, playing hard to get are we?” He chuckled drunkenly, “That's okay. I like 'em fiesty.”

“I have a boyfriend.” I said rudely, looking at him with dislike.

“Yeah, but he's not here right now, is he?” The man leered at me, squeezing my thigh with his gross, meaty hand.

I opened my mouth to insult him, but was stopped short when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up and saw Frank.

“What's going on here?” He asked me, and I shrugged, gesturing to the drunken man beside me, who was glancing from Frank and I.

“Who're you?” The man glared at Frank, “I was hitting on her first. Back off, man.”

“Sorry, she's with me.” Frank told the guy, his hand still sitting protectively on my shoulder.

“With you?” The man garbled, understanding crossing his face, “Oh.”

Frank just nodded and grabbed my arm, pulling me up from my stool.

He led me away from the man, walking back to where he was sitting earlier.

“Thanks.” I told him, turning back to see the man, who was now glancing around the bar for his next victim.

“No problem.” For the first time, I noticed Frank's voice sounded slurred, and I wondered how much he had drank.

“You know, you shouldn't sit in bars by yourself.” He told me, sitting down on his stool and pulling one up for me.

I sat on it, “Yeah, I guess.”

We stayed in silence for a couple minutes, both of us looking in opposite directions. I let out a sigh and Frank looked at me.

“What's up?” He asked.

I shook my head, “I don't know. Just missing Odessa, I guess.”

And missing Dylan, I thought sadly. We hadn't talked on the phone for two weeks. The only way we communicated was through e-mail, and while I did look forward to hearing from him, our conversation was mainly centered around our wedding.

Not that I wasn't anticpating that day, but still. Before Dylan proposed we talked about everything, and while I was away on tour, and with our wedding approaching, he only had time to discuss wedding details. I just missed the way things used to be before we got engaged. The only piece of knowledge that was sustaining me was knowing that as soon as this tour was over, and we were happily married, life would turn back to normal.

“We'll be there soon enough.” Frank said sympathetically, “Come on, you can hold out for two and a half more months, can't you?”

“I guess.” I shrugged, turning to look at Frank.

He smiled faintly at me, then stood up, “Well, I'm going to take a taxi back to the hotel. Tell the guys thanks for the birthday party.”

“I will.”

Frank smiled at me, “Come on, I know we don't like each other, but can't you give the birthday boy a hug?”

“Hmm, I don't know. Is that under the category of professional?” I asked jokingly.

Frank moved so fast I barely had time to react. He grabbed my arm and pulled me up, wrapping his arms around me and saying, “Of course it's professional.”

“Happy birthday.” I told him awkwardly, my arms hesitating before they quickly hugged Frank back.

“Thanks.” He let go of me, then laughed, “Whatever, I still don't like you. That hug changed nothing.”

I rolled my eyes, but as he walked out of the bar I knew he was joking somewhat.