Where Is My Self-Control?

“Alright but behave,” I nodded and slid into the back seat, giving the driver my hotel’s name.

“Won’t the guys be mad that you’ve ditched them?”

“I should be allowed to do what I want, right? I don’t tell them what to do.” Ronnie replied.

After a few minutes of silence he broke it, “What do you mean by ‘behave?’”

I took my attention from the lit up city sights whizzing by, “I dunno yet exactly,” honestly I didn’t. It was a morally confusing situation.

“Why do you wanna hang out with me so bad?” I asked.

“Cause you’re cool. Stop asking dumb questions and lets get drunk,” he replied as the cab pulled up at our destination.
I looked at the meter and pulled out my purse. Before I could reach my money Ronnie already produced several notes and handed them to the driver.

“Keep the change. Come on you,” he said and pulled on my wrist gently.

“Hey! Where’d you get off paying for my shit?” I grumbled.

“Stop whining, woman,” he said and closed the door. He slipped his arm around my shoulder and seeing as I had the taxi money on my had I slid that into his back jeans pocket which was quite a squeeze because of how tight they were. Ronnie instantly looked down at me in surprise with his eyes wide after probably just feeling my hand and not knowing what I’d done.

I laughed out loud, “Don’t try paying my bills,” I smirked at him.

He reached down and found the money but I took off running inside.
“Vod!” he chased me in and I ran past the elevator through the double doors into the stairwell, knowing that was my best chance of a quick escape – elevator doors are too slow to close.

“Get back here!” he called, hot on my heels.

“No cigar. You gotta catch me,” I said between quick breaths as I scaled the staircase.

“Gotcha!” he caught up too fast and got a hold of my arm. Balance sucked so I kinda fell into his chest.

“Damn, I thought I was gonna win for sure,” I panted.

He held me close and I didn’t have the energy to move, besides since the show he’d doused himself in something and it smelled good. After a moment or so I laid my hands flat against his chest and peeled back to look up, “ Ok…we play drinking games to resolve this whoever loses has to keep that money. Got it?”

He looked thoughtful for a second, “Alright, you got a deal. You’ll lose though,” he released me and we began a calm exit for the stairs onto the floor of my room.

“You saw me last night right? You’re goin’ down,” I said with poise.

“Promises, promises,” he grinned.

We got to my room and opened the mini bar, as its contents was not ample we were forced to called room service.

“What kinda game you got in mind?” Ronnie asked jumping onto the bed.

“Nothing that can be bought from Victoria’s Secret that’s for sure,” I scoffed.

“They make games?” he asked in a astonished tone.

“Dunno, I figured it was this country’s version of Ann Summers so if they don’t then we’ve outdone you on this one,” I shrugged.

“That doesn’t answer what game we are going to play,” he put his hands behind his head and gazed at the ceiling.

My eyes lazily scanned the tattoos covering his arms. I’ve loved tattoos since discovering music and rock stars. It seemed they were the only people to have them and that made me decode two things; I wanted them and they made hot guys even hotter. My mind was wandering now.

“Are you staring at me like a cocktail for any reason?” Ronnie brought me out of my trance, my eyes moved from his ink to his eyes.

“I’m not looking at you like a cocktail. I like cocktails…pole smokers aren’t so tasty,” I suppressed a giggle.

“Pole smoker? Bitch I am not fucking queer,” he told me firmly like I needed telling.

“I know. I might like you more if you were. I’m gonna call you gay until it tires me,” I said offhandedly.

Knock; knock “Room service.”
I got up from my crouch by the open mini bar and crossed the room.

“I’ll prove I’m not if I have to,” he caught me by the strap holding my keys on the end which were in my back pocket as usual.
He sat up and put his hands on my hips with one of those lustrous looks in his eyes.

“Honey, you got nothin’ to prove. Off. I gotta get the door,” I tapped his hands away.
A whining noise came from his throat but he left me go as another knock impacted the door. I opened up and took the beverages and glasses and put them on the side. We had a bottle of coke, bottle of energy drink, bottle of beautiful Jagermeister, two shot glasses and two large glasses.

“So what’s the game or isn’t there one?” Ronnie asked for a third time.

“Errr it’s a race to get naked,” I told him, just to see what would happen.

“Terrible game, I’m fast!” his eyes darted around and widened in excitement as if waiting for a ‘ready-set-go!’ from me.

“I’ll remember that and also use it against you. Another thing; I prefer getting drunk to getting naked so we’re gonna see who can handle the most drink rather than get naked.” I nodded with a grin at the feeling of genius.

“Hmm, drunk rather than naked, that’s crazy talk. Women really are nuts. Sure I can use that against you somehow.”

“Good luck,” I poured the energy drink out and then two Jager shots.

He smiled as if knowing something I didn’t as we gulped down our Jagerbombs.

“So…tell me about yourself. What do you do?” he asked, made a face and let out possibly the most carbonate-fuelled burp in history.

“I’m a professional booze drinker and general mother fucker,” I told him.

For some reason that reminded me to turn on my laptop and transfer the video I recorded from the show off my phone and onto the PC.

“That translated as alcoholic womaniser. I can see that in you but it’s not a job and I know you have one.”

“Your face has one,” I sighed.

Yeah…’your face’ comebacks that are completely out of context have to be the best.

He sighed and rolled his eyes at me, “If you’re going to be stupid then I’ll ask stupid questions instead.”

“Fire away,” I waved my hand and poured Jager and coke together for both of us.

“Why do you keep calling me a fag?”

“Cause you’re a fuckin’ emo,” I laughed a little. The truth about what I really thought was due to come to light- I could feel it.

“I’m not emo, you should have realised already. I guess my fans are emos but I’m not,” he smiled, eyeing me in thought.

“Ok fine. I hate your fans, they’re the fags and make your bands look shit,” I sighed, voicing my interpretation.

“Well…I love my fans. I’d be nowhere without them,” Ronnie frowned understandably.

“Sorry dude, they look at my like I’m the weirdo at gigs and stuff,” I sat back in my armchair.

“Gigs? What gigs?” he leaned forward curiously, “ forward curiously, “my gigs?” his voice was almost incredulous with a hint of amusement.

“Shhh,” I put my finger to my lips, “don’t tell anyone. I’m not ready to come out of the closet yet,” I smiled and shook my head.

“Ahhhh that’s funny,” I couldn’t tell whether he was mocking my but he got up and hugged me with a tight squeeze.

“Your head is big enough already, we don’t need my little secret inflating your ego further. Come on, shots.” I then poured two shots of Jager out and felt my cheeks burning.

As Ronnie released me he kissed my cheek hard and a sort of tingling warmth flowed from that spot through to the rest of my body.

“Heard anything from anyone about your disappearance?” I asked quietly taking my shot.

“Not yet,” he shook his head and briefly checked the screen of his phone anyway.

“It’ll come,” I noted wisely and poured more shots.

All I’d eaten all day was a pack of Doritos, so the hazy effects of the liquor were beginning their take over.

“So you must be pretty proud of yourself. You got totally shit on, had such a bad time, but almost immediately you jump back in the saddle, work your ass off and now you’ll be back on top in no time.” I was more of an observation than a question.

“Hell, how can I not be proud of myself? This is all I ever wanted and I won’t let anything stand in my way,” his determination was pure, simple and apparently unstoppable.

“It’s cool,” I smiled, “I’ll admit that.”

“You do? Hey Vod, are you hitting on me?” he smirked.

“I didn’t think I had to,” I scoffed and sipped my drink.

SITUATIONS ARE IRRELEVA