AllFreeNovel
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Beck: Two hours. Fifty bucks. I got you,Manatee.
After dinner, someone drops off an ID at my door and waits while I get hercash.
I try not to overthink my outfit, deciding on tight black jeans and a matching tank top with my black suede boots. In case it’s cold, I throw on a denim shirtovertop.
I twist my hair up in a high bun, then add a hint of mascara, plus some matte redlipstick.
By ten, Elle and I find ourselves outside Leo’s. It’s beautiful, industrial, like nothing I’ve seen back home. Like an old factory with stories totell.
It’s alsopacked.
“Who is Leo?” I wonder aloud as we wait inline.
“Owner’s dead dog,” Raeanswers.
“Really?” I ask. I’m still surprised she came, but maybe this is a spot ofhope.
“No fucking clue.” She ducks out of line, and we stare before trailing afterher.
Rae stomps up to the door. The bouncer ignores the line of people waiting to glance at our IDs and let usinside.
“How did you do that?” Elle demands of Rae but doesn’t get aresponse.
The inside of the venue is exposed brick, long and skinny, and one story with high ceilings and a stage at one end. The bar’s in the center of the room, two thirds of the way from the stage. It’s round with a number of bartenders working different sections. The lights behind the bar are old-school theater style, and they spell out “LEO’S” in a burnt-orangeglow.
A guy’s on stage playing piano, crooning into a microphone. He’s good, and I let myself fall into the spell he’sweaving.
“You came all the way down here to watch?” Rae tosses at me before disappearing through thecrowd.
“You know what?” I call to Elle. “She’sright.”
I head toward the stage doors, Elle on my heels, and find the woman in charge of the open micslots.
She looks me up and down, from my tight jeans to my plaid shirt to my ponytail. “We’refull.”
Dismay works through me as I crane my neck to see her list. “The whole night? Can I at least get on the list for nextweek?”
“We’re full every week. I can’t bump one of my regulars for you. Gotta keep this crowdhappy.”
I bristle, but Elle grabs me and drags me to the bathroom. “She’s just putting youoff.”
Half a dozen other girls compete for sink and mirror space, washing their hands and touching up their careful makeup. Every one of them looks different, but they’re allunforgettable.
It’s a reminder I’ve never lived on my own, never truly made my ownway.
I’m in a strange city, lying to everyone about where I am and who Iam…
And for what? To drink and watch someone else playmusic?
Fear slams into me as I stare into themirror.
“You done?” an unfamiliar voice demands, jockeying forposition.
You didn’t come here to blend in.You survived getting heartbroken, worked your ass off, and now you’re here. Don’t let them sayno.
The resolve I’ve built over the past year is a block of iron in my chest, heated by my frustration until it glows red. I strip off my shirt, leaving the tank underneath, and tug out my elastic, fluffing out my hair so it explodes around my head, falling in crazy waves around myshoulders.
I pull out a dark pencil and use it to rim my eyes, top and bottom, until my lashes look even thicker and my eyes pop. Then, I pull out gloss and slick it over my redlips.
