The loud thumping of music vibrated all throughout my body, my chest pumping along the rhythm of each beat. Everyone only seemed like shadows looming around me, pushing and shoving each other in a desperate attempt to create friction. I was lost in a psychedelic haze as I danced with a man whose name I had already forgotten. He might have introduced himself earlier but my mind was too preoccupied to notice as I marveled at the spectacle that is of the interchanging of lights from red, to blue, and yellow, then white, and finally, they simultaneously danced along.
He was grinding his pathetic erection against my ass, peppering sloppy kisses along every exposed skin he could reach while his hands palmed my breasts too roughly to be pleasurable. His breath against me was hot and needy, the stench of his last meal making me sick.
A cloud of darkness flashed through my vision and I felt my head grow heavy, my body warning me that I could pass out at any moments notice. I slowed down, feeling my chest clench at the lack of air and excessive adrenaline. Suddenly, a rush of bile surged up my throat and I shoved the man away, quickly turning on my heel. I pushed my way out of the crowd, breaking the contact of a couple grinding against each other and punching a man in the gut when he tried to slip his hand under my dress.
I let out a deep breath when I finally found my way to the ladies room but my relief was short lived. There's a fucking line.
You gotta be shitting me.
I glanced at the men's room across the hall and took quick strides towards it. I gifted the men a smirk before pushing the door of the nearest cubicle open and bending over, sticking two fingers down my throat. Vomit spluttered out of my mouth, a mix of pills, bread, whiskey, and champagne. I forced it all out until I my stomach started clenching from lack of content and my throat was sore.
I staggered out of the stall, going to the sink to wash off the vomit and gargling a mouthful of water. I caught the men looking at me and I flashed them another smile before heading out. The moment I stepped into the hall, a rush of heatwave hit me, mixed with the scent of alcohol, smoke, sweat, and strong perfume. I clutched my head as the nausea became harder to fight.
I switched my phone on to call Andrea, my best friend, and the damn thing immediately started pinging with messages from my brother threatening to call my probation officer if I didn't answer him. I cursed under my breath and began the process of pushing my way out of the place again, claiming my coat from the clerk along the way. I descended the stairs and found the exit leading to a dark alley. My phone started blaring and I rolled my eyes when I read Almighty SOB on the screen. I lit up a cigarette and took the call.
"Will you shut the hell up?" I muttered, rubbing my temples.
"We agreed you'd be home before sunrise," Jude, my dutiful brother, snapped back.
I took a drag from my cigarette as I glanced at the sky. Dawn was about to break. "Lost track of time. My bad."
"Tell me where you are. I'll come pick you up."
I looked around, searching for Andrea's car and scoffed when I couldn't find it. "That bitch!"
"Angel..." Jude said impatiently. "Where are you?"
I rolled my eyes. "Guess it's your lucky night," I said, sighing. "Silver Lining. West 43rd Street. Get me some French fries, will you? Make it large."
"Stay there."
"Hey, and one of those sundae shit with rainbow sprinkles on top," I added but he hung up. "Jerk."
I tucked my phone back in my bra and scanned the street. I spotted a bodega and headed for it, craving for a drink. When I entered, the cashier was sleeping while hunched over a baseball bat. I smirked, biting the filter of my cigarette before slamming my palms on the counter at either side of his head. He shot up and started freaking out, grabbing the bat and holding it up. Backwards.
"What? What's happening? Shit."
"Mornin', sunshine," I muttered dryly, blowing smoke at his face.
He coughed up, looking at me in confusion. I snickered and headed towards the aisles, grabbing a bag of Doritos as I surveyed the merchandise. I glanced at the back and eyed the beers stacked inside the cold refrigerator. I walked towards it and took a six pack of Heineken, and kicked the door close. When I turned, the guy was still looking at me. I smirked, regarding him through hooded lids as I dropped my items on the counter before throwing a rolled up twenty dollar bill at him.
He reluctantly reached for them and I rolled my eyes. "Haven't got all day..." I leaned in to read his name tag. "Josh." I winked.
He nodded and quickly scanned the items. When he flattened the bill, white powder fell on the counter. His eyes snapped up to mine, wide and wary.
I shrugged. "Dropped it on some snow."
He nodded dubiously and finished scanning the items, and put them in a bag. I snatched it and quickly headed for the door, dropping myself on the curb outside.
"Bottoms up!" I said to myself, tilting my head back and letting the coolness of the drink make its way down to the pit of my stomach as I emptied the can in one breath.
I took a long drag from my cigarette and threw the beer can at the bin a few feet from me, missing by a long shot. I sighed, forming smoke rings in the air.
I've just turned twenty-four today. Well, yesterday and my family never seizes to despise me. It's actually why I was here right now, drunk and high at three in the morning, sitting alone and freezing in the brutal New York winter. And yet, it's only in these moments that I actually felt more alive and at peace with my demons. Only the homeless and the drunk were my companions in this luxurious pit of perpetual suffering. Nothing will ever live up to the pleasure of solitude and the silent misery of the people out of it.
And yes, I tend to sprout deep profound bullshit when I'm drunk and high.
My parents had thrown me a party at their home, which as always, I was against with from the very thought of but being Angel Lastor has strapped me with the burden of obligation to constantly keep our elitist society and the banal masses obsessing over me since I was granted the name. Which meant being forced to parade myself in a fancy dress while draped in glittering jewelry to be worshiped and lusted after like a prize winning pig. I shook my head, thinking about the party last night as I opened another beer....
*********
"Absolutely not. No smoking inside the car," Jude bit out, snapping his fingers at me.
"Are you fucking serious?" I said, gesturing at the roofless car. "The top's down. Don't be a douche."
"You know I hate cigarettes," he insisted. "Damage your lungs as much as you want, just keep mine out of it." I rolled my eyes, tucking my cigarette against my ear. "Thank you."
"I still don't get why I couldn't just have driven myself," I muttered in annoyance.
"If you'd actually bother to renew your driver's license, you wouldn't be stuck with me now, would you?"
"I already went to the DMV office but they wouldn't let me renew it!"
"Because you cut the line and called the clerk a bitch when she wouldn't process you."
I scoffed. "She was a bitch."
"She was a government employee and you threatened to cut her tongue out, Gel."
"It's not like I was going to do it," I muttered, folding my arms across my chest.
"You don't go around threatening people either away. Do you know how difficult it was to convince her not to press charges?"
I groaned. "Why are you even bringing this up? It happened two weeks ago for fuck sake."
He sighed. "Just don't do it again. You're a month away from completing your probation and the judge was very clear that if you offended within this year, he'd-"
"Lock me up for twenty five years and brand me a felon," I cut in, rolling my eyes. "Oooh, I'm shaking in my boots."
He sent me a glare. "This isn't a joke, Gel. You can only go around the law so much before it catches up to you."
"What am I, some crook on Wall Street?"
I snorted, putting my feet up on the dashboard and scratching my ankle. After one year of house arrest, two years of probation, and a pathetic attempt at being a rule abiding citizen, I was one month away from regaining my freedom, at least the illusion of it. I honestly couldn't wait to get rid of this godforsaken ankle bracelet that beeped like a motherfucking banshee if I even so much as stepped a toe out of New Jersey. I was only allowed out of state for charity work, in this case my birthday disguised as a fundraising ball for whatever third-world country or illness was currently on trend, and even then, I needed to have a police escort at all times.
I glanced at the rearview mirror, seeing the police car trailing us by the bumper. "The only reason they won't get off my back is cuz I'm a Lastor," I muttered, flipping my middle finger at them.
Jude yanked my arm down, casting me a warning glare. "Being a Lastor is the only reason you aren't in prison, but even that can only get you so far." He slapped my legs, pushing them off the dashboard.
I sighed in annoyance. "I'm not going to do anything stupid, okay? Christ, it's my birthday. Can't I get a break?"
He pursed his lips, nodding. "Okay, I'm sorry." He cleared his throat, shifting. "Can you take out something in the glove compartment for me?"
I rolled my eyes and rummaged through a few papers inside. "What am I looking for exactly?"
"It's a box."
I eyed him suspiciously but he merely gestured for me to keep looking. I obliged, pushing aside the gun he had stashed inside and taking the box wrapped in silver paper with a bow on it.
"Open it."
I tore the paper and lifted the lid from the box, frowning as I looked at the object inside. "A flask?"
Jude nodded. "It was Gramps' flask. I found it in the library when I visited the manor a few weeks ago to borrow some of Gramps' medical journals for my thesis. I had it cleaned and repaired la-"
I shoved the damn thing back in the glove compartment. "What part-" I hissed. "- of 'Don't ever mention him to me again', did you not get, brother?"
He sighed. "You act as if he did something so horrible to you."
"Shut up."
"You can't keep hating him for dying, Gel," he murmured in dismay. "That's not fair to him."
"I said shut up," I said, lighting up my cigarette.
**********
I stared in disgust at the colossal monstrosity erected prominently at the center of the wide landscape of Bermuda grass, white rose bushes surrounding the daunting spectacle that was my childhood home.
There were new additions to the already obscenely extravagant property. Where there was once a statue of a leaping lion at the center of the fountain in the middle of the driveway, there was now a statue of a half naked Aphrodite with water spurting endlessly around her. The exterior of the house had been newly painted too, replacing the grey bricks with a flawless white stone finish, and the bare front was now barricaded by two large columns at each side. As if it could shroud the hell that this house was with a pretense of perfection and grandeur. I may have grown up here and spent the early years of my life literally imprisoned within its walls but it was never my home. Being sent to boarding school in London at sixteen was the greatest gift my parents had ever given me.
"Ugh. They renovated the place again?" I spat in disgust.
"Mother went to Greece for winter," Jude said, fixing the cuffs of his white linen shirt. "Apparently, she became inspired."
"Shocker."
Jude's long time aide, Luis Hagen, welcomed us at the door with a maid at his side, taking our jackets and scarves, following quietly behind us as we entered the foyer. Immediately, Jude and I tensed at being within the walls of this godforsaken hellhole. It was an inherent thing that we couldn't shake.
I heard heels clicking against the marble floor and I gritted my teeth as the double doors leading to the great hall were opened by two maids while Mother stood at the center of the room, a hand on her hip and her nose stuck in the air. She was dressed in a long silk robe, her golden hair cascading over one shoulder. She approached us, opening her arms.
"I was expecting you far earlier," she said, sending me an accusatory glance that said, 'I don't know what happened, but it's your fault', a classic and one of many. She turned to Jude, embracing him. "Oh, chérie. Tu m'as manqué! Vous devez vraiment visiter plus souvent!" (Oh, darling. I've missed you! You really must visit more often!)
They pecked each other's cheeks and then Jude moved aside, subtly forcing Mother to acknowledge me. She flashed a smile, showing off her pearly white teeth, resembling the pearls around her neck that she almost never takes off.
"Happy Birthday," she said almost grudgingly before quickly turning back to Jude, obviously not expecting a response out of me. "Have you had lunch already?"
"No, not yet," my brother responded.
"Oh, dear..." she cooed, as if feeling sympathetic towards her starving six foot something, twenty-eight year old baby boy. "You really should have been here far more earlier. Come, I'll have them prepare something for you."
She started walking with Jude in tow, leaving me behind. When I didn't follow, Jude looked back at me. I rolled my eyes, waving a dismissive hand before heading to the stairs. The maid followed me and I tossed my duffel bag towards her as I went up the stairs. When I entered my room, another maid was drawing a bath, the aroma of lavender and milk filling the air.
I let out a sigh and stretched my arms up. The maid quickly set the duffel bag by the bed and carefully slipped my shirt off, slinging it on her shoulder as she dropped to her knees to unlace my boots and strip my jeans in quick succession.
I grabbed the duffel bag, opening it and taking out the bottle of Jack I brought along. I took a swig before going to the bathroom and sat by the window as she went on with untying my hair from the sloppy braid I had done, the purple tresses falling down my shoulders and covering my back. As the tips tingled my waist, making me shiver, I was reminded that I was due for a haircut. The length was becoming too time consuming and a nuisance these days but I dreaded either having Jude spend hours making sure each strand was perfectly aligned or Andrea experimenting on me with yet another pastel color.
I took another swig from my bottle as I eyed the garden below, rolling my eyes at the sight of more statues of Greek Gods set around the grounds. Those would last for another four months or so until Mother would go on another trip out of the country and come back claiming to have fallen in love with their architecture and then she'd bring the damn country with her. I guess you gotta do what you gotta do to entertain yourself when you're the trophy wife of a wealthy man who had long lost interest in your pussy.
The second maid stood once she finished drawing the bath and the other picked up the bucket of ice set on the floor, scattering the ice cubes along the tub. I took one long swig, letting it settle in my stomach before getting in the tub, sighing as the initial shock of pain from the ice wavered and was replaced by numbness. One maid started tending to my hair, remaining mindful not to let it touch the floor as she massaged some type of cream through the strands. The other handed me a cigarette and I took it between my lips, catching her eyes gaze down at my scarred body as she lit the cigarette, as if she couldn't help but stare. It made me nauseous, the attention.
"Ghastly, isn't it?" I quipped.
She flinched, dropping the lighter into the tub. "I'm so sorry," she whispered in alarm as she scrambled to retrieve it from the water.
I winced when I felt the tips of her fingers touch my scars and I quickly stilled her hands. "No one could be so foolish to look at me let alone touch me," I said, squeezing her wrists in my grip. "So you're either unbelievably stupid or new. Which one is it?"
"New," she answered in a meek voice.
"Of course." I let her go and leaned back, exhaling a fog of smoke. "You're fired. Go away."
Her eyes widened, her gaze going to the second maid who ignored her as she quietly went on about washing my hair. "I didn't mean to," she said, dropping her head. "Please, forgive me."
"You're pissing me off, sweetheart," I murmured, gently brushing my fingers along her soft cheek. "I would hate to tear apart this pretty face of yours. Get the fuck out, yeah?"
Trembling with fear, she staggered out of the room and I sighed, taking a swig from my bottle. Pathetic
* * *
"Tighter." The maid pulled and I gritted my teeth, my nails digging into the wooden bed post. "Tighter." She pulled again and I gasped as my ribs protested at being crushed. "Tighter."
"Miss?" she said uncertainly.
"Tighter," I bit out. She hesitated for a beat before pulling hard. I held my breath. "Tighter."
"I'm hurting you."
I sent her a glare over my shoulder. "If you don't want me to hurt you, then pull."
She pursed her lips, looking reluctant but was too afraid to disobey me. She pulled and kept pulling until the knots wouldn't go any further. She helped me into the ball gown Mother had prepared and I let out a sigh when it fit perfectly to me. It was a vintage, I could tell from the delicate silk. The gown had a hint of metallic, making an illusion of a dark glossy surface while the full-skirt cinched tightly at my waist and swept the floor.
I lifted it, inspecting my ankle monitor and seeing the green light, indicating that the battery was full. I disconnected it from the cord, aware that the maid was pretending not to watch as she clasped a black diamond necklace around my neck, every inch of the chain glimmering under the light. It was heavy and uncomfortable but still, I let her cover me with the jewelry.
She looked at me as I stood in front of the body length mirror, a forced smile pasted on her face. "You look beautiful, Miss Lastor,"
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Of course."
She smiled still. "Do you still need anything, Ma'am?" she asked after helping me into a pair of heels which were a size too small.
I winced as I tried to make a step. "No, you can go," I said dismissively and she silently went out the door.
I sighed and kicked off the heels while I suffocated in a dress that looked simply beautiful without my intrusions. I bent over to reach my duffel bag under the bed and took out the half empty bottle of Jack when a knock came on the door.
I took a swig from the bottle before answering, "What?"
"It's Jude."
I rolled my eyes. "What do you want?"
He opened the door, probably mistaking my response as permission to enter. "I just wanted to see if you were ready." He tilted his head, a wry smile appearing on his lips. "You look like a princess."
"I can hardly breathe," I muttered before taking a swig from the bottle. "The price of beauty, right?"
His smile disappeared and my grip on the bottle tightened. He shut the door, softly. "Are you kidding me right now?" he growled lowly, striding towards me and snatching the bottle of Jack from my hands and inspecting it before bringing his deathly glare to me. I winced. "You've drank this much already? Damn it, Gel. The cops are literally standing outside the door!"
He stopped suddenly, taking a deep breath to calm himself and closing his eyes briefly. He went to the bathroom and came back moments later with the bottle emptied, handing it to me. I took the bottle without looking at him and put it back in the duffel bag.
"Look at me," he bit out, his hands on either side of his hips and I lifted my head. "This is your final warning, do you hear me? Because I swear, the next time I see you drunk, I'll personally drag you to rehab and lock you in there for as long as it takes for you to hate and fear the sight of alcohol. I don't want to do that so please, don't push me." He let out a breath as he ran a hand through his hair. "But it's your birthday and I don't want to spoil it any further."
He suddenly embraced me and I stood awkwardly in his arms, not knowing what to do. I despised the touch.
"I'm always here, okay? You're not alone. I hope you know that," he murmured and I nodded, even though he was just saying that. "Now, how about a smile?" he said and I brought out my long practiced perfect smile for his own benefit. "There. That's better. It's almost time, we better get downstairs."
The guests started to arrive an hour later. I may have been standing at the entrance for just a few minutes but it already felt like hours and my ankle monitor was killing me. Jude insisted I should be greeting the guests instead of just lounging around and about. He meant I might disappear just like last year. He himself was even standing beside me, making sure I couldn't escape.
Just as I expected, I barely knew most of the people Mother invited and I tried not to let the anxiety of being around so many strange people get to me as I began to sober up.
Fuck. I need a drink.
"Thank you for coming. I really appreciate it," I said as I shook a man's hand while faking a smile.
"Logan. Welcome. I heard you won the annual golf competition at the club this year? I see surgery went well," my brother seconded, so polite and charming I wanted to barf.
Logan grinned, patting his arm for show. "The last time I could lift my arm over my head without whining like a cat was ten years ago. Absolutely remarkable, what your doctors can do."
"Like my father always says, we aim to preserve and enhance the value of each life that enters our hospitals. You wouldn't be the same without a golf club in your hand, sir," Jude said with a flourish.
Logan laughed. "Truer words have never been spoken. Why don't you join me some time? I hear you have an excellent swing."
Jude smiled modestly. "I fear that I'm only a casual golfer. My record would appall you."
"Is he always so humble?" Logan directed to me, chuckling.
I smiled. "You would be surprised how fragile his ego can be. He once broke a guy's jaw for calling him a little bitch."
He stared at me, almost as if unsure how to react while Jude gave me a glare. "Well..." Logan cleared his throat. "I'll see you inside, yes?"
We smiled at him and he went on his way. I snorted.
"You don't want to be here, I get it," Jude muttered, his voice low. "But if you get through this, you can go anywhere you want. As long as you stay within the city and keep your phone on."
I mocked a gasp. "Whatever would I do if you aren't there to give me permission to do what I want, brother? I would be helpless."
He sighed. "Play nice and I'll renew your driver's license. Good enough?"
I bit my lip, pondering. "I'll keep my mouth shut for the rest of the night if you give me back my bikes and re-install my door."
He sighed again. "Don't sneak out till the end of the party, and you get the door and the Ducati."
"I'll come back before sunrise if I get my Dominator too."
He thought for a moment before shaking his head. "The Dominator is staying where it is."
"You know I can just easily buy another one right?"
He gave me a flat look. "Right. As if you'd ever buy anything for yourself."
"Touché." I held my hand out to him to seal the deal. "I love it when you don't play by your rules."
He shook my hand. "Don't get used to it. You disappeared for a week after your birthday last year. I only want to put off whatever plans you and Andrea have this year for as long as I can."
"Aw, scared I might finally drink myself to death this year?"
"That's not funny," he said grimly, pulling his hand away from mine abruptly.
A new group of guests were walking up to us and we flipped the switch, charming their socks off and giving them our best smiles and laughs. It was close to a miracle that I managed not to foam at the mouth.