Page 117 of Pretty Thing

“That’s a fucking brilliant idea.”

He tosses his headset aside, gets up, and grabs his sketchpad.

“See you tomorrow, man,” I say, yawning again, but Matt is already drawing as I slip out.

Alibi solidified. Now for the final phase.

The parking lot is only a five-minute walk to The Fuzzy Beaver. I toss the pass on the dash and climb out, more than ready to see my girl.

It’s a shame really that I have no one to appreciate the thought and effort I put into this plan.

Most people don’t think things through, and that’s when you get caught. It doesn’t matter if you are sneaking out to meet friends, spray painting a public park, murdering someone, or committing arson. If you can’t see all the possibilities and potential dangers, then you have no business trying to pull it off. Your ass will land in jail.

That’s where I’m different.

I’m not like my father who grabbed a gun and went storming across town, screaming and yelling.

If I do a job, then I fucking do it right.

Despite the minus thirty-five temperature, the line up to the new bar is long. But I came prepared for that as well. I walk up to the bouncer working the door and lean in casually.

“Don’t say anything. I don’t need everyone going crazy. I’m the streamer ZeeBeast. I’ve got a grand in cash for you, if you let me in, and I’ll make sure to give this place a huge shoutout the next time I’m live.”

I’m not ZeeBeast, but we do look a lot alike, enough that anyone who doesn’t know us in real life won’t question it. The bouncer looks me up and down and smiles.

“Shit, I’ve seen you.”

“Shh.” I glance at the long line of people. “Fans get nuts. I just want a drink in peace at the cool new spot in town.”

“Didn’t even know you were local.”

I smirk, neither confirming nor denying the claim.

He nods and opens the door. I subtly slip him the money as I pass. As soon as I’m in, I grab a half-drunk, discarded glass on a table to look like I’ve been here awhile and go on the hunt. Eden isn’t hard to find, at least not with Kyle sniffing around her heels like a bloodhound.

I don’t go over. Instead, I park myself as far away as possible, in a deeply shadowed corner, and watch.

Eden smiles and laughs. But each minute that she doesn’t need me is like death by a thousand cuts to my heart. I check the time and continue to wait.

Kris grabs Eden’s hand and helps her out onto the dance floor.

She looks fucking adorable as she tries to wiggle to the music. Her movements are still stiff, like she’s not sure about putting all her weight on her ankle yet. I smirk at the attempted twerking with her girlfriends. She looks stunning in sexy black leggings and a pink-and-grey patchwork dress over top.

The dress feels almost symbolic just for me. All my life, I was torn into pieces. Beaten, starved, tortured, made to hide my true self. That is until Eden stepped into The Needle Queen and without even knowing it, she began to stitch me back together. Now my heart that used to be in tatters is held together by her and only her. Eden is my thread. My lifeline. Mine.

Kyle watches her from the bar, and my nostrils flare as he gulps down his drink and makes his move. I almost crush the glass in my hand when he dares to press himself up behind her and put his hands on her hips. Luckily for him, she moves away and glares. He laughs it off, and the dancing continues.

Pulling out my phone, I check the time: 11:49 p.m. Five more minutes, and I’ll make my move.

“Hi.”

I jerk back and look at the girl who just walked up.

“I’m not interested.”

Her face falls.

“My girlfriend is on the dance floor.”