by Mira Bailee
More adventures with Devon. This will be fun. Plus, I have the perfect thing to wear.
I take my entire bag into the bathroom so I can surprise Devon. Pulling out the red dress Maddie’s loaned me, I almost second-guess if I can pull this off. But if I want to seek out a new life, this is a good start. Be the person I want to be, even if I have to fake it until it’s true. So tonight, I’ll be confident, happy Olivia in a smoking hot dress.
When I emerge from the bathroom, my hair is in waves down my back, the dress is formed tightly to my body–stopping at mid-thigh. My makeup is dark and sexy, and I feel somewhat balanced in my black heels.
Devon has his back turned to me as he fastens his black pants. He reaches over and pulls a dark gray dress shirt from his bag, turning around as he puts it on. He gets one look at me and is suddenly fumbling to button his shirt.
“Damn, girl.”
I smile. I like getting a reaction out of him. I walk over smoothly and pull his hands from his shirt. I hold his eye contact as I work each button with ease, and when I reach the last one at the bottom, I hook my index fingers in his pants pockets and pull him closer to me. “I’m ready when you are.”
* * *
Devon says the club he wants to take me to is right down the street, so we’re taking advantage of the cool night air and walking. Occasionally, we get a stare from someone who recognizes Devon, but for the most part, we’re like any other normal couple. I could get used to this.
We walk up to a club called Domain. A line starts at the door and runs down the sidewalk blocking the entrances to shops and 24-hour cafes. Everyone is dressed their best and excited with anticipation as they wait, fixing their clothes, smoothing their hair.
Devon leads me right to the door. He nods at the bouncer who shakes his hand, and then he lets us in with no hassle whatsoever. I glance back as we go inside to see a mix of curiosity and irritation as those behind the rope have nothing to do but wait. Never mind that part about us being a normal couple.
Inside, we’re thrown into a dark room where it seems every inch of space is taken up by a body. I realize I’ve never actually been in a club, and I’m not sure I’m seeing the appeal now, but I’m determined to have fun tonight. The air itself seems to be occupied by the loud bass of the deejay’s music. Bright lights rotate from the ceiling, seeming to dance to the rhythm as well, and I find myself occasionally blinded by looking in the wrong spot at the wrong time. I grip Devon’s hand tighter as he leads me up a set of stairs to an upper floor.
We pass another man with a clipboard, but he doesn’t even look at it as Devon catches his eye. Another quiet nod, and we’re let in. This is too easy. I relax a little knowing Devon has full control here. We head to a bar off to the side where Devon orders us each a drink.
I look around the room, trying to recognize anyone famous, but I suck at this game. If only Maddie were here. She’d know most these people’s names and stories.
A familiar looking woman walks by, stopping in her tracks when she sees Devon. “Hey!” she says, giving him a hug. “What are you doing up here?”
“Personal business,” is all he says, handing me my glass.
She looks at me, “And you must be Olivia. So happy to meet you.” She hugs me too as I try to pinpoint where I know her. Some movie or something. “Devon and I took acting classes together way back in the day. I’ve got all sorts of stories about him if you want to hear them.”
I doubt I do. “Acting, eh?” I turn to Devon. “Actor? Rock star? What else?”
He smiles, and his friend gets distracted by someone else she spots. She hurries away, and Devon and I wander through the room as we drink.
“How does it feel to be a celebrity?” he asks.
I laugh, “Not hardly. And if my only fame in life is being attached to Devon Stone, then…” I take a sip of my fruity drink as he stops and stares down at me.
“What’s so wrong with being attached to Devon Stone?” He closes the space between us, and where his body touches mine, I tingle. I drink faster, wishing we could be back in the room instead of here.
“Nothing wrong at all.”
“That’s what I thought.” He puts his free arm around my waist and directs me to the left. “Check this out.” He leads me toward another set of doors and holds one open, inviting me into the crisp night air. We’re now on a balcony looking out at the rest of the busy street. It’s crowded out here, but the open sky above makes up for it. We squeeze through couples dancing and groups of people clustered together talking and laughing, and we find ourselves at the edge of the balcony. I hold onto the cement wall as I peek over the edge. The line to Domain has grown even longer. To the left, other clubs are just as busy, and to the right, I can see our hotel. I smile knowing that a large part of the top floor belongs to us tonight.
“Not bad, right?” Devon says, speaking over the loud music.
I drink from my glass again. “This is pretty cool.”
He smiles and speaks with a touch of sarcasm. “So good to have your approval.”
If he thinks I can’t take his teasing, he’s in for a surprise. I snatch the buttoned fabric of his shirt and yank him closer to me, forcing him to lean down. Without saying a word, I plant my lips on his, softly at first. I tease his bottom lip with my tongue, tasting my own fruity drink on his delicious full lips. He sets his glass on the edge of the balcony and wraps his arms around the small of my back. The longer I kiss him, the more I feel him growing hard. Good to know I have his approval as well.
I give him a soft moan only he can hear as I pull away from his mouth. His intense gaze sparks with mischief, and I look forward to whatever happens later.
“You dance?” he asks.
“Not in a million years,” I answer.
“Well, tonight you do. Come on.” He grabs his glass and my hand and pulls me toward the open floor with all the other undulating bodies.
This will certainly lead to my own embarrassment. But I’m not me tonight. I’m whoever I want to be. And apparently that person dances…
“Holy shit. Stone!” someone yells nearby.
Devon whips his head toward the voice, and his face fills with recognition and excitement. “Seth! My man!”
“Dude. It’s been a long time,” Seth says. “What’s your ass doing all the way up here?”
“I’m on a mission,” he yells over the music. “With my girl.” He motions his head toward me, and Seth looks over.
“Nice.” He puts his hand out. “I’m Seth.”
“Olivia.” I shake his hand. Devon’s girl.
Devon points at his friend. “This guy has been one of my best friends for as long as I can remember. Then he moved here, and it’s like he fell off the edge of the earth.”
“Hey. It’s not like you’re stuck in L.A. Get out of that shit hole. Move north.”
I’m mostly smiling and nodding, amused seeing Devon so excited to see a childhood friend.
Someone comes up behind Seth and grabs him by the shoulders. “Let’s go, mother fucker,” he yells, hanging on to Seth and grinning wildly.
Seth looks at me. Then looks at Devon. “We’re going inside if you want to join.”
He squints his eyes suspiciously as he says this, and Devon nods. “Yeah, we’ll catch you in there.”
Seth and his friend snake their way inside and disappear.
“You okay going in?”
It’s much nicer out here, but if Devon wants to see his friends. “That’s fine,” I say. I want to immerse myself in Devon’s world tonight.
He looks at me an extra moment too long, like he’s going to say something else. Then smiles and holds out his elbow for me to grab. We start toward the doors, but someone leaps into our path.
“Oh my god. You’re Devon Stone, right?”
“Last I checked.”
The girl who’s stopped us is wearing a lime green mini skirt, and a black crop top that barely covers her boobs. Another girl practically knocks her over a
s she rushes to join her. This one’s in a strapless, white dress that’s so tight, nothing’s left to the imagination. “Oh my god, it is him. We’re such big fans!”
“Fans of what exactly?” he asks without a tone of friendliness in his voice.
“You know. Everything. We read news about you and follow everything, and like–”
“Fascinating.”
“And who’s she? Your girlfriend or something?” They look at me and talk as though I’m not actually standing right here.
“This is Olivia.”
“Wow. She’s so lucky,” the one in white says. The neon girl looks at me. “You are so lucky.”
I have to wonder if they filled in the blanks, assuming I’m Devon’s girlfriend, or if they’re just really fond of my name.
“She knows she is,” Devon says. And then he maneuvers us around the strange girls. “Nice meeting you both. We have to go.”
They start to respond and tell us their names, but the music drowns them out and we’re inside fast enough to lose them in the crowds. Devon walks us through the busy floor and down a dark hallway.
“Where are we going?”
“VIP,” is all he says.
It almost makes me laugh, remembering what Maddie had said this morning about the same acronym. Oh man, I hope the liquor isn’t turning me juvenile already.
“I thought we were already in VIP.” Yep, it’s still funny to say.
“This is more…exclusive.”
He opens another door that leads to a slightly brighter room. At least I can see in here. The room is decked out in plush chairs and couches and tables. The walls are lined in thick curtains, and a private bar has a lone bartender pouring drinks for the few people up here. The other rooms may be packed, but there are only, maybe, two-dozen people in here. It’s intimate. Nice.
Devon spots his friends in a corner on the other side of the room, and as we get near them, I almost come to a complete halt mid-step. The corner is set up with two loveseats and an armchair. On one loveseat, two women sit, relaxed with their drinks in hand. They seem perfectly in their element. Seth’s loud friend is sitting on the edge of the armchair, his elbows resting on his knees, and Seth… Seth is kneeling on the floor, leaning over a coffee table, and snorting a line of white powder.
No. This is no longer “pretty cool”. This is the opposite of that. I squeeze Devon’s hand as though it were the international signal for, “Let’s get the hell out of here!” He pulls me to the empty loveseat, and I sit close to him. Our thighs touch, and I try to convince myself that Devon has this under control, and my physical closeness to him will make me more comfortable with this situation.
Seth finishes doing…what he’s doing. He stands up and grabs ahold of one of the girls, pulling her up by her hand. He spins her once as if showing her off and says, “Your turn, love.”
She giggles and gets lost kissing him before she leans down and lines herself up with the next row of cocaine. I sit up straighter, sick to my stomach. I look around. No one seems to notice–or care. The bartender who’s in our direct view has to be able to see what’s going on, but he’s doing nothing to stop it as though it’s completely fine.
I turn back to see the girl rubbing at her nose. Then she swivels around to face Seth who took her place on the loveseat. She crawls closer to his lap. He leans down to kiss her, and when he sits back up, her head stays pressed against his thigh as she nestles in close to his crotch. They need a damn room. But again, no one except me seems to take notice of how inappropriate–and illegal–this is.
“Your turn D-Man,” the guy in the chair says, and it takes me a second to realize he’s talking to Devon.
“No thanks,” he says.
“Come on,” Seth insists. “Like old times.”
“I’m good.” Devon’s voice is calm. He’s hardly fazed by this and doesn’t even seem uncomfortable declining their offer. The other nameless girl happily accepts Devon’s turn, and I sit here, gulping my drink, trying to mask my own horror.
The faster I swallow, the less nervous and jittery I feel. But my mind still races. If we’re caught by the wrong people, can’t I get in trouble too? Am I some sort of accomplice right now?
I finish the last of my cocktail, and get up for another. Devon offers to get it, but I need to walk away for a second. I reach the bar, and lean into it, letting the wood top support me.
“Vodka cranberry,” I tell the bartender. “Extra vodka, please.”
He makes my drink and hands it over. I’m watching for any sign from his body language and facial expressions that he’s about to call the cops or something. But he seems friendly and relaxed, a lot like Maddie when she’s running the bar.
This can’t possibly be normal, I want to scream.
I return with my new drink. Devon links his fingers with mine and squeezes my hand. He leans toward me and brushes his lips against my neck. A chill runs down my spine. Every touch from him feels so good. My dizzy head focuses only on him. Maybe I can shut everyone else out.
I listen as Devon and Seth update each other on their lives. Alcohol settles into me, and I’m back to that pleasant floating feeling that makes me careless that I’m surrounded by drug addicts.
Right as this drink disappears, the two girls stand up. One says, “We need the restroom. We’ll be back.”
The other one looks at me. “Want to come, Olivia?”
I’m not sure when they learned my name. Maybe they read it, but I do need the bathroom, so I stand up. “Yeah, why not?”
I follow their lead as we stumble to the women’s restroom. After I come out of my stall, I walk to the sinks, standing next to Seth’s date as she fixes her makeup.
I’m washing my hands as she says, “I’m Naomi, by the way.” She smudges at her eyeliner. “And my friend is Caroline.”
As if on cue, Caroline emerges from her stall and joins us. I try to smile and play nice while the alcohol I’ve consumed takes control. The black and white tiles in the bathroom melt into a gray tone. I take a calming breath, but the floor feels like it’s sliding beneath my feet.
Naomi asks me, “Are you okay? You, like, seem so down.”
“I’m fine. I’m just a little drunk, I guess. And a little tired.”
She reaches into her purse. “You want a quick hit? That’ll wake you up.”
Did she just offer me drugs? I stop her before she can show off her stash. “No–no thank you.”
“She doesn’t do drugs,” Caroline says, drying her hands.
Maybe I shouldn’t have come in here. Are they going to judge me because I’m not into that? “No, I don’t. Sorry.” Right now, I don’t give a damn that they do. My only desire is to not be standing anymore.
“Nah, it’s cool,” Caroline says. “I was only stating the obvious.”
Oh, okay then. She fixes her lipstick. I look at my own reflection realizing how tired I look. Long drives have that tendency of making me look sleep deprived.
“Here.” Naomi reaches into her bag again. I’m afraid of what might come out, but she only clutches concealer. I let her dab it under my eyes. “It has extra oils and stuff to wake you up, and from what I’ve heard about Devon, you’re going to want to be awake as late as possible.”
I can think of a ton of things that could mean, and I see my cheeks redden in the mirror. We leave the bathroom, but aren’t ten steps out when some guy in a white dress shirt stops in front of me. He reeks of cigarette smoke, and his hair is greasy and slick, reminding me of motor oil. My head whirls, and I need the wall for support. I back into it, and the guy steps closer.
“What’s your name, pretty girl?”
Who is this creep? He needs to get away from me. I want to get back to Devon. I need to sit down. I’m too drunk to remember what he just asked me.
Caroline shoves the guy to the side. “Back the hell away, asshole. She’s with someone.”
Naomi puts her arm around my shoulders and directs me back toward Devon. I could cry f
rom gratitude. I must be too drunk and quickly approaching the stage of being over emotional. But I was horrified by these two, yet look how friendly they are. Naomi and Caroline–I could see them being my friends. I really need to stop being an uptight jerk.
My thoughts are interrupted as we enter the room where my Devon waits. Two men wearing jeans and t-shirts push past us.
I hear one say, “He better be here. And he’s fucking dead if he is.”
They’re large, buff, livid. And they’re heading toward the back corner of the room.
Oh god. They weren’t talking about Devon, were they? But then, how would they know he was here?
“Fuck. It’s Wayne,” Seth says, standing up.
“You. You little shit.” One guy thrusts his finger at Seth. “We need to talk.”
Devon lounges in the couch, hardly caring that these guys are huge and could pummel us all. He looks from the guys and back to Seth with a sigh. “What did you do this time?”
Seth smiles and mocks his aggressor. “Have I angered you in some way, Wayne?”
“You playing games now?” Wayne cracks his knuckles. “Let me make it clear for you.”
Wayne and his buff friend stomp closer as he continues yelling. “You come to my house. Fuck around with my sister. Steal my stash.” Now he points at the table. “That’s it there, isn’t it? You wasting it on these assholes too?” He looks around at the group of people and his eyes land on Devon and darken. “Fucking Stone.”
Devon stands up and gets between the guys and Seth. I back up toward the bar to add distance to this drama. Naomi and Caroline walk around Wayne to get back to their guys.
Devon steps closer to Wayne. “Why don’t you leave?” He’s not asking. He’s insisting with his authoritative tone.
“I have a funny story for you Devon Boy. The other night. There’s a knock at my door. A beautiful goddess is standing at my doorstep, her little heart broken…by you.”
Is he referring to Kennedy? Devon holds his ground, his face devoid of expression. “I’ll say it again. You need to fucking go.”
“My story isn’t through. She was all sorts of sad. So I fixed her. With my cock.” Wayne bursts out laughing, and his friend joins him.
