Picking Up the Pieces

Fast forward to Friday night- our first night off in a while, and I couldn’t be more thankful. We had all planned to go clubbing in celebration of selling out the last five shows. I was crazy excited- not only because I wasn’t working, but this would be a great chance to spend time with Tony.

I had on my favorite dress, a short, sleeveless, blue number with a bold zipper down the back that hugged my body in all the right places. I paired it with black heels and red lipstick, carefully avoiding my almost-healed piercing. I thought I looked pretty hot, but I was more concerned about what Tony was going to say.

I left the bathroom as gracefully as I could in five inch heels, then went to my bunk to put my phone and a few twenty dollar bills in my pocket. I nearly screamed when I felt a big hand come in contact with my ass.

“Milk does a body good,” Mike mused, reaching onto his bunk, which was above mine. He took out a gold watch that looked similar to Tony’s, and snapped it onto his left wrist. Then I followed him into the front lounge, where the rest of the band and crew awaited us.

They all whistled and hooted upon seeing my appearance, making me blush. But Tony was the only one allowed to step forward and give me a peck on the lips. I returned the favor, telling him he looked nice. Even though nice didn’t even begin to describe it- he had on dark skinny jeans, and a black blazer with a white dress shirt underneath. To top it off, he had matching gold watch and tunnels. To say I wanted to ravish his body and let him have his way with me was a polite way to put how I felt at the moment.

“Took you long enough,” Vic whined. He was wearing one of those gay-looking flowery shirts that only he could pull off. “Can we go to the club now, please?”

"Alright guys, let's go," Tony said, putting a hand in the small of my back and guiding me out of the bus, everyone else following behind. Joe, who was the last one out, locked the door.

We headed out down the street from the Baltimore venue to the club, which was a few blocks away. As we walked down the sidewalk, I lifted our interlaced fingers to look at Tony’s hand. It had been ten days since he got the tattoo, and it appeared to be healing nicely. It wasn’t pink and swollen anymore, I could actually read the script.

“How does it feel?” I asked, trying to make conversation.

Tony shrugged from beside me. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. I still have to put a shit-ton of lotion on it.”

“That’s why your hands are so soft!” I gawked and felt like smacking myself for not realizing it sooner.

He chuckled at my dumbness. He looked ready to say something, but was cut short by the blasting music and flashing lights of the club.

We didn't even need to look or speak to each other to head straight for the bar. With his best San Diego charm, Mike ordered eleven shots of tequila, earning a weirded-out face from the bartender. We downed our shots in almost perfect unison, however we had some weenies (cough Shane and Vic cough) that had to separate their shots into two or three individual sips.

I noticed all the boys go their separate ways, and Tony led me to the dance floor, letting the music do the talking.

Now, I usually prefer to keep it classy when I go to clubs, but sometimes my inner Latina gets the better of me, and I end up dancing more like Shakira than Cinderella. Maybe it was the tequila, maybe it was how hot Tony looked at the moment that triggered it, I don't know. Probably both.

The song changed and then he was behind me with his hands on my hips and we moved to the beat of the music. I tried my best not to be too awkward, but it’s hard when awkwardness is basically a natural instinct. Instead, I focused on not making a complete fool of myself in front of Tony.

After a couple songs, I really had to pee. I tried to be discreet about it, but eventually Tony was like “where are you going???? (ﾉ◕△◕)ﾉ” so I just yelled “I HAVE TO PEE DAMMIT!” and he let me go.

So I did my business, and afterwards I touched up my hair and makeup that had gotten a bit disheveled after dancing. Then I left, more like strutted, out onto the dance floor, grabbing a shot from a bartender on the way.

I was maybe halfway to Tony when I saw Shayne just standing there, looking super awkward and lonely. His eyes kept wandering to Luke, who was grinding with some hot blonde.

“Hey Shayney why the frowny face?” I said, making him jump.

When he noticed it was me, his baby face lightened up a bit. “Luke just looks really cute today. And I can dance way better than that blonde,” he whined, shrugging.

“Oh come on, chill. They’re just dancing,” I assured him. I took his little hands in mine and made us dance slightly so we weren’t just standing there like weirdos.

“He’s so pretty, Zoe, and he’ll never like me!”

“You know what you need, Shayne? Alcohol.” I dragged him by the wrist over to the bar and ordered us two more shots.

“It’ll calm your nerves, sweetie,” I persuaded. I tipped my head back and let the fruity, burning liquid go down my throat.

He shrugged then did the same, grimacing. When I made sure his glass was completely empty, I took him out to the dancefloor once again.

He stood there like an idiot for a few moments, just swaying slightly to the beat with a trippy smile on his face. “Come on, Zooooooooooooooooe,” he said. “Daaaaaaance with meeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!”

Alright, not gonna lie, I was drunk. Not wasted, but definitely intoxicated enough to make poor choices. So, kids, I did what girls with boyfriends are definitely not supposed to do: dirty dance with their boyfriend’s friend.

I hate to say it, but I liked it. I was barely even thinking of Tony. In fact, I wasn’t really thinking at all. Just looking at the bright lights and being amused by them and moving my hips against Shayne’s as he did the same.

I knew the tequila had really kicked in when I felt his lips on my neck, sucking gently. My hands went up to my hair without hesitation, so I could move it out of the way to give him easier access. His, however, found their way to my hips and pulled me closer to him.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, I turned around quickly and smashed my lips up against him. It was quite awkward, though, because I was wearing heels and he was a tiny person, I had to tilt my head downwards just so he could reach. His lips weren’t like Tony’s. They were small and shy and....gay. Something about kissing him didn’t feel right, besides the obvious reasons like the fact that I was dating his friend and coworker.

My fingers tangled in his long hair and pulled slightly at it, and he moaned into our kiss. As he sucked on my lower lip, his hands ventured lower too, squeezing my butt through my dress.

“What the fuck?!” I heard someone yell from a few feet away. It pulled me back to reality and I shoved Shayne away, realizing how wrong it was. I was a little too late though, I caught a fleeting glimpse of a very pissed off Tony.

“Shit,” Shayne whispered.

I shook my head at him and ran off towards Tony and onto the empty street.

Let me tell you this right now. I was born and raised in San Diego, a predominantly Mexican-populated area with the crime rate to prove it. I know how they get. If you could choose between having Tyrannosaurus Rex mad at you, or having a Mexican mad at you, you’re better off with the dinosaur. Especially if said Mexican is drunk, like we both were.

“Tony, wait!” I yelled as I caught up to him.

He turned around in a huff, fuming. “Seriously, Zoe? It’s been barely two weeks and I’ve already given you my all, and this is how you repay me?”

“Tony, I swear to god, I didn’t mean it!” I ran so I was in front of him. I hoped he would stop and listen, but instead he pushed me roughly out of the way.

“Come on, Tony! We’re both wasted! It was a mistake, I’m sorry!” I begged.

That stopped him dead in his tracks. “Wasted, huh? Haven’t heard that one before. That’s not the only thing that’s wasted now.”

“I’m serious, Tony! I was stupid!”

“Yeah, I know that now. Obviously, I’m pretty damn stupid too for believing that you could be faithful,” he growled.

“God dammit, Tone, how many times do you want me to say sorry?”

“You could apologize a million times and it wouldn’t change anything,” he yelled, clenching his fists. “Is this about high school? Are you trying to give me a taste of my own medicine? Because I already tasted it when you up and left for seven fucking years!”

“This isn’t about anything! I’m wasted, and so is Shayne!” I argued.

“Are you trying to make me jealous or something? This is the second crew member you’ve hooked up with in two weeks, Zoe. I can’t trust you!”

“Fucking hell, we weren’t even dating when I kissed Luke! And it was his idea!”

“But you agreed to it!” He screamed, throwing his hands up in the air. “And you obviously liked it, too!”

“Tony Perry, I have forgiven you for ruining what were supposed to be the best years of my life! You hurt me, Tony, a lot! I tried to kill myself because of you! Why can’t you forgive me for this one little thing?”

“I knew this was about high school! God, can’t you just- wait,” his angry face turned soft. “What? You tried to...kill yourself because of what I did to you?”

I nodded and felt tears coming. “I’m sorry, okay? I know I can’t take it back. I’m sorry I’m a cheating whore, okay? I’m sorry. I don’t want to lose you, too.” I was full on crying now. I took a seat on the curb so I could compose myself, and to take some weight off my feet in these awful heels.

He sat next to me and pulled me into his arms. “No, I’m fucking sorry. God dammit, Zoe, why didn’t you tell me?”

I sniffled miserably and leaned into him. “I didn’t want you to feel bad, I guess,” I mumbled into his chest.

“Well, too late. Fuck, Greenie Bean, don’t ever do that again, okay?” His arms tightened around my shoulders and I felt lips peck my temple.

All I could do was nod pathetically.

“I forgive you, Zoe,” he whispered. “Don’t leave me, please.”

“I won’t,” I replied quietly. I fucking meant it. I needed him like blood in my veins.

“I love you, Zoe.” He kissed my forehead gently.

“I love you too, Tony.”