I Should've Known

"Terry some fucking creep was in here yesterday for you," I called from my work station as I started to set up my machine. I adjusted my latex gloves to fit better between my fingers. I heard him laugh next to me as he stopped tattooing so he could talk over the hum of his machine.

"Brandon? Yeah he told me about you."

My stomach did a quick flip. I couldn't stand when people talked about me. I spun in my chair once to face my mirror and did a quick look over of my appearance. My black hair was done up in a messy bun and my make up was spot on. I wore plain skinny jeans and a plaid shirt unbuttoned just enough so that a little cleavage was showing. "What's he say?"

"That you were kind of a bitch to him for no reason," he called through the wall. "Which I couldn't see you being."

I smiled to myself. "He came at me wrong, bro," I joked in a manly voice. "He was just really forward and I was really...hungover."

"Ahuh, suuuree. We'll talk about it later," he decided. Best not to talk about drug use and dicks in front of customers. I stood up, arched my back and stepped out my door looking for my next appointment in the lobby. I spotted her and put on my smile as I clapped my hands once to get her attention. "Come on up whenever you're ready, hun."

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"Why'd you stop smoking weed?" Terry asked as he struggled to keep his last hit in his lungs for seconds longer. I waited for him to exhale before I even bothered to explain.

"I don't like body highs. I like things that'll make me hallucinate," I started, watching him pull on his thick, long beard. His hair on his head was just as busty. We sat silently in his car, still parked outside of work, and observed the cars driving by in the late hours. I often hung out with Terry as he smoked once we got off. I actually used to hot box with him but for the past seven or eight months I couldn't do it. "And I love alcohol."

"I know, you're the fucking vodka champ," he said, earning a smile from my direction. "I remember the last party we went to."

"We should have another," I reminisced as I tilted the passengers side seat back just a bit. I pushed against it in an attempt to pop my back.

"A friend of mine is having his twenty first birthday bash later tonight," he explained as he started loading his second bowl. "I'd invite you but you aren't a fan."

Must be Brandon. "You know he didn't show up at the shop today like he said he would."

Terry just shrugged. "He's a busy guy. His band must've had a show or some fuck like that." He had to have felt my curiosity rise after that statement. "He's a vocalist in a band. Not some local pop shit but some serious heavy, touring band. They're sick."

"What're they called?" I asked, trying not to seem too eager. I had always had a weakness for musicians, though the fact that he sang wasn't nearly as impressive as someone wielding an instrument. I'd actually played guitar for six years so it was fun to jam with someone. Playing while sed person sang always turned out fucking lame.

"Chiodos. You'd like em, they scream a lot." He took a huge hit from his pipe and a round of coughing immediately followed. I waved my hand in front of my face to disperse the smoke.

"He looks like he'd suck at screaming."

"He's fucking vicious," Terry said in all seriousness. I was a little surprised by it, actually, but that comment sparked my interest just a bit. "I dunno. It'd be cool to bring you to that party. No one drinks like you."

"I'm down," I agreed as I cracked his window. "Just don't make me talk to him much please."

"Will do," he said uninterestedly. "And I know you like acid and x and shrooms and all that fucking stupid, dangerous stuff. He tends to always be on one of those or another."

I felt a churning in my stomach. A churning I only got at the mention of drugs. I can't say I'm addicted but if they're in a twenty mile radius I'd somehow always get my hands on them. I loved my little escapes.

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"Why'd you bring her?" he scoffed as he held the door open but continued standing in the way of our entrance. I crossed my arms and tried to keep a small smile on my face. I knew that he had alcohol considering how much I could smell on his breath from three feet away.

"Cause she's the best fucking chick to party with ever!" Terry announced loudly as he put an arm around my shoulder and shook me a bit. I planted my feet on the ground to hold my balance, Terry didn't know his own strength when he smoked. Brandon raised a skeptical eyebrow and didn't move from his position. "Come on dude, she won't start shit with you. I promise."

"I'll kick both your asses out if she does," he laughed light heartedly as he took a step to his left and allowed us entry into his apartment. I followed close behind Terry as he walked inside. Once I saw the amount of people in the cramped room I grabbed a hold of his jacket above the small of his back. There had to have been at least three dozen people and, fortunately for me, they were almost all my type. I guess that could turn into a negative once I got some alcohol in me. I had a problem keeping my mouth and legs closed once a little drunken attention was showed to me. Music I didn't recognize was playing loudly throughout the apartment in surround sound. At least it was pretty decent.

"It's cold," I shivered once as Terry stopped in the kitchen to reach into the fridge. He disappeared from the shoulder up and began to speak. "I can't hear you."

He pulled out two bottles, one in each hand, and held them up to my face. "I said Jack or Capta-" I snatched the Jack Daniels from his hand before he could finish his sentence. A smooth smile spread across his face and his bloodshot eyes lit up. "Atta girl." I heard a commotion behind me and twirled quickly to see it's source. Brandon stumbled into the kitchen, trying to tie a black bandanna around his messed hair. In his attempt he bumped the table and sent a very expensive looking shot glass to the floor. Terry and I both watched it break but Brandon didn't seem to care. He looked proud to know he had tied his bandanna straight. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Fucking half of what she's holding," he admitted as he pointed a thumb at me. I looked down at the handle of Jack. A little over half was missing. I guess, for now, he could hold his liquor well. "Nothing special. I've had more." We shared an uneasy glance resulting in his grin growing. He had nice teeth at least.

"Well," Terry said as he patted my on the shoulder. "You two will get along fine. By the way, the music playing is Chiodos," he concluded as he walked away.

"Don't fucking leave me until I'm drunk, Terry!" I hollered after him, stopping him immediately. He turned towards me and whined.

"But there's weed over here!"

"That seems like a bad idea," Brandon decided as he plopped down in one of the four chairs surrounding the kitchen table. "To be alone in a strangers house while drunk."

"I care less that way," I shrugged as I took the chair opposite of him. Terry reluctantly joined us, scooting two shot glasses my way. I know how much he hated mixing drugs and alcohol, even if he was just smoking. I twisted the cap off and poured my own shot, closing the bottle immediately after.

"What the fuck?" Brandon spat as he grabbed the bottle from me. "No decency to pour the birthday boy a shot? I'll do it myself."

"Sorry," I scoffed as I put the glass to my lips.

"Wait!" Brandon halted me as he finished pouring his own shot. I pulled it away from my face so I wouldn't have to inhale the fumes for any longer than I needed to. "We need to toast to a new friendship!"

"Friendship?" I laughed. Terry tapped me under the table with his foot. "What I mean is that we just met."

"Buzz kill," he grunted as he brought the shot glass to his lips. I beat him to the punch and downed mine first, slamming it on the table. He did the same after me and watched me, seeming a bit impressed. "Bet you cant do that again."

"You're on," I smiled as a warmth filled my stomach.

Needless to say, Brandon lost the bet. But it felt like I was the loser as I tried to stumble down the hall to visit the bathroom I'd seen three times already in the past hour. I hadn't been getting sick, I just had to pee quite a bit. We'd gotten up to twelve shots before Brandon decided not to push me. He alone had almost drank that entire handle of Jack.

"Remember where it is?" he called after me, flicking on the hall light so I could watch my step. As if both my eyes were open anyway.

"Yeah, thanks!" I waved behind me as I forced all of my weight onto the door and shoved it open. I immediately dropped trou and did my business, holding my head in my two hands all the time. Oddly enough, since Brandon and I started drinking we'd been side by side all night, along with Terry. He must've forgotten about the weed after seeing how entertaining the two of us were drunk. I felt like hours passed and, apparently, so did Brandon as I heard a knock on the door.

"Ya fall in?" he slurred.

"No!" I shouted as I stood up and flushed the toilet. "I just drank too much!" I pulled the door open quicker than intended and laughed as Brandon stumbled to keep himself balanced. "By the way, your band is really fucking good." He beamed at that statement.

He pounded his fist against his chest and looked up to the ceiling. "I take great fucking pride in my band." He returned his stare back to mine. "Really. It's what I love." He paused and bobbed his head along with the rhythm of the song playing before he opened his mouth to sing. "How I want her to want me. Her soaring voice carries into my mind. I'm gonna take her away, With me she will stay forever. Don't deny me, understand that I am a monster. I am a monster."

"You, my friend, have the voice of a God," I chirped as I jumped up to hug him. He seemed a tad taken aback as he paused before wrapping his long arms around my thin frame. In that moment I had decided that I wanted to make Brandon mine for the night. I was going to make him have me.

"Thanks," he said awkwardly.

"Kids, no making out in the hall" Terry yelled as he sprinted down it and grabbed my arm, hoisting me to stand up straight. I scowled at him.

"We weren't," Brandon said. He speech seemed to have returned to him a little. He eyed me wearily. "Are you okay?"

"I'm good," I told him as I giggled. "Just kind of drunk."

"Wanna lay down?" he asked as he pointed to a closed door. I took that as my cue, and apparently Terry noticed as well as he squeezed my arm tighter.

"Yes!" I said happily as I pried away from him. He watched me through eyes that screamed 'be careful' as I sloppily grabbed the door handle and pushed it open. I flung my arm back and somehow managed to catch Brandon's, pulling him into the dark room. He flipped the light switch on immediately and I frowned. Fucker. I peered around his room. Completely empty besides a mattress on his floor. "Why so empty?"

"I'm on the road a lot," he said as he scratched at the back of his head. "We're only here a few times every couple months or so. Why waste money on a nice room?" I nodded and kicked my shoes against the wall. "Shut up!" he laughed behind me as I fell face first onto his "bed."

I grunted something inaudible against the thick fabric.

"Careful," he told me as he grabbed something off the ground and tossed it at me. "There's a shirt. Put it on and go to bed."

I felt disappointment rise up in me as he turned around to face the wall so I could undress. What the fuck? I slid my jeans off and threw them at him, startling him enough to jump. I struggled to pull my shirt over my head and let it fall against the wall before I slid his plain red v neck over my head. It went about halfway down my thighs. Jesus. "I'm dressed." He slowly snaked his body around to make sure I wasn't lying. I scowled and put my hands on my hips. "Never seen a naked girl before?"

He laughed and bit his lip. "Trust me, I've seen my fair share."

"Mr. Screamo gets any girl he wants, eh?" I smiled as I stepped off the mattress and started towards him. He immediately seemed uncomfortable and put his hands up.

"Macy," he started sternly. I wrapped my arms around his and connected my hands behind his neck. I had to stand on my tip toes. He grunted and stared straight ahead, not even faltering under the pressure I was exerting on him.

"What?" I said girlishly as I turned my chin up to watch his facial features. They seemed uneasy. My stomach churned. I was not about to get denied a drunk fuck.

"You're drunk," he breathed stupidly.

"No shit," I nodded slowly. "So what?"

He grabbed me by the wrists and pried me off of him. I didn't struggle to fight back as he held them in front of him and stared right into my eyes. "I'm not that guy," he laughed mockingly, pissing me off even more. "Get your ass to bed, I'll have Terry wake you up in the morning." My jaw dropped a bit as he released me and headed towards the door. He rested his fingers above the light switch and turned his head back to face my very distorted and angry features. "Bed. Goodnight." Before I could reply he shut the light off and slammed the door leaving me in complete darkness.

"Fuck you!" I screamed after him, knowing well he wouldn't hear me anyway.