Chapter 2
Present Day
Adalyn
“Hurry up and finish getting ready, whore. We have a ton of shit to do today before the party tonight.”
Yep. Six years later and my best friend hadn’t changed a bit.
“Shut up, Stacy. I already don’t feel like going out tonight and your friends are bitches. I am way too exhausted to have to put up with people I don’t like, especially at a club. There probably won’t be anywhere to sit and I’ll end up whining the whole time and making you regret that you bothered to force me to go out with you in the first place.”
I already knew she wasn’t going to let me off the hook. I’d packed up and moved across several states to live with her over a month ago and I still hadn’t even attempted to go out and see the city. There were a few times she dragged me out to local clubs or bars, but I hadn’t been good company.
Recently having made the decision to forgo any kind of physical or emotional relationship with men had me avoiding them like the plague. So whereas normally I would be out dancing, stealing the mic from the DJ or generally throwing myself at a hot stranger, now I was a self declared wall fly. Hunkering in a corner, simply there to observe and be the designated driver.
I don’t drink. Haven’t since college. Nothing against drinking, I just have control issues. When I say control issues, I mean in every aspect of my life. I don’t give in to peer pressure, or pressure of any kind for that matter. Nothing will make me act out or behave irrationally more than someone trying to tell me what to do. These control issues have caused problems in almost every facet of my life, but I’ve come to terms with this and am in no hurry to change.
Unfortunately, ‘annoyingly stubborn’ and ‘irritatingly difficult’ apparently can’t be listed under ‘skill set’ on your resume. At least not if you actually want the job. So since graduating college with some bs degree because I never could decide on a major, I’ve bounced around between one shitty job to the next. I’m very smart, easy on the eyes and a quick learner. However, none of that overshadows my uncanny ability to piss off my bosses. Did you know that there is no job that exists out there where you get to call all the shots and boss people around without actually being the boss? Go figure.
I’ve also never stayed at a job long enough to be able to work my way into a management position. Not that time would make a difference, because I will never kiss ass to get higher up in a company. I’d rather suck an egg. Plus, even managers have bosses. Being homeless, wandering the city, having to answer to no one was actually a tempting concept on some days. Of course I would never actually do that, but it was nice to dream.
Dream of being homeless? Now that was just sad...
I’ve also found out over the last few years that men hate being bossed around as much as I do. I guess not holding a steady job, never letting your date decide where you’re going for the night and refusing to let the man have any control in bed is not really what most men are looking for in a woman. Never mind the fact that I’m intelligent, have great tits and killer legs and could rival the best of them in a game of darts. The movies and books are lying, ladies. That bullshit where the guy likes a woman with a mind of her own, who is beautiful and acts like one of the guys is just lies. LIES, I TELL YOU! I’m lucky to make it past the second date.
Yeah, men act like they want a gorgeous woman who can eat her weight in steak, watches sports and act like one of the guys while still keeping up in an intellectual conversation. That may be true, but they also want this woman to laugh at all of their jokes even if they aren’t funny, swoon over any romantic gesture they make, no matter how lame it is, and to constantly praise them and validate their egos.
I’m happy to be the first part of that description, straight up refuse the latter. If I can’t find a man who appreciates my extreme honesty, even if it’s at their expense, then I’d rather be alone. And I’m damn sure never going to give anyone praise they don’t deserve. Remember how I said I wouldn’t kiss my boss’s ass? That really applies to everyone.
On top of all my domineering qualities, I’m also picky as hell. Yeah, I could probably find a guy to put up with me. I’ve actually found quite a few. However, they were all weak minded, insecure man- children who couldn’t find my clit even if a giant neon sign were pointing directly at it.
Just because I can’t find a man who I feel is actually deserving of my time who will stick around long enough to look past some of my overbearing personality traits, doesn’t mean I’m willing to just drop my standards entirely. Winning an argument isn’t fun if the person doesn’t even try to argue back. What’s the fun in winning if your opponent could care less if they won or not? And I’m very competitive about literally everything.
I’m so competitive that no one will play anything with me, no matter what it is. Board games, video games, cards, pool… doesn’t matter what it is. If in the end someone will be declared a winner, then all of a sudden no one is “in the mood” to play. Wusses.
It took a couple of years, lots of therapy and several memories I wish I could forget, for me to discover all of this about myself. Becoming more self aware actually made it worse in the beginning, because my ways of coping were more than unhealthy. I was still trying to figure out a happy medium but compromising, even with myself, was never my strong suit. I was working on it though. Well...kind of...
Yeah, there was a brief time in my life where all of this was depressing. A VERY brief time. I’m not one to sit around and wallow and feel sorry for myself. So after several failed attempts at dating, I had decided being in a relationship could be put on hold. I needed to figure out my own crap anyway. Maybe if I at least held a steady job then I might be able to keep the attention of someone I was actually interested in.
So... since I’d pretty much exhausted most of my employment opportunities back home in Ohio, I called up Stacy and asked if she would like a roommate. I took the shrieking on the other end of the phone as a yes, and a week later I had packed up everything I would need to start over with my best friend in New York.
Stacy, God love her. She was a firecracker and keeping up with her was difficult. She’d been putting up with my grumpy ass for over a month now. Getting her to stay still for more than five minutes was exhausting and it tested my patience constantly. She was always looking for a good time, and right now I just wanted to take a step back and be with myself for a while. Getting her to listen to me and accept that that’s what I needed right now was driving me out of my ever-loving-mind.
Despite all of this, I was beyond excited to be living with my best friend again. We’d kept in touch after I moved back home when we graduated. Stacy was from New York, so staying here was just a given for her, but I had no idea what I was doing with my life so I thought going home would be the mature decision. Take some time to figure it out. Moving home, however, only made it worse. I felt like a loser. I was still depending on my parents, and barely able to pay my own cell phone bill since I was constantly between jobs.
I had originally come to New York for school because of their art program. Plans changed though after freshman year and when it came time to declare a major, I had already missed so much school and was dealing with so many personal issues that I just picked a generic business degree.... even though I had no desire to work in any type of office setting. I had dreamt my whole life of doing something with art. I had foolishly convinced myself that I could find a way to transfer my passion for art into an actual job, either by doing design work or actually getting paid to commission my own works.
Fail.
Stacy had been my rock and main source of moral support since we’d met. She had always stood behind me no matter what decisions I made, but she wasn’t afraid to let me know if my decisions were stupid, either. And despite how wild she was and how far out of my comfort zone she forced me, she was the only one who knew my history. She knew all of the reasons I was so messed up and why I didn’t drink alcohol.
When I did manage to force myself to go out with Stacy, I always ended up having a good time. Stacy was already a loose cannon, but when she was drinking it was hilarious. Every time we went out she made a complete ass out of herself. As much as I tried to use the multitude of stories, videos and pictures against her, it never worked. I’d never met someone who cared so little about what other people thought. To her, the more embarrassing the story, the more entertaining...even if it was at her expense.
Because I loved Stacy and she was one of my only friends in the city, I gave in to her relentless nagging and finally agreed to go out. One of Stacy’s friends knew the owner of some nightclub that was opening up and had gotten us VIP status for the night. Stacy had been dying to go. I was less than thrilled at the thought of a night out with her and her friends. Stacy’s friend Carrie, in particular, whom she’d known since she was four years old was the worst. I had a sneaking suspicion that Carrie hated me, though I had no idea why. She hadn’t been rude, at least not in an obvious way, but every time I was around she just glared at me and no matter how much I tried to engage her in conversation she barely responded. So I just started avoiding her, though my efforts were futile considering how close she was with Stacy.
Stacy had warned me about Carrie before I moved in with her. She didn’t go into detail about the reasons behind Carrie’s personality, but she made it clear that I was to take it easy and back off. I may or may not have a tendency to be pretty confrontational at times. I also may or may not struggle with having a filter for my thoughts. Apparently this Carrie chick was sensitive or some shit and Stacy was afraid I would cause drama. I didn’t need that crap right now anyway. I had tried being nice and it wasn’t working, so avoiding her was the next best option.
Having to be around Carrie while simultaneously trying to avoid her still wasn’t the worst part, though. Nope, the worst part was where we were going. The opening of this club had been talked about for weeks in the paper and on the local news. The name of this highly anticipated club? Grind. Yeah you heard me. The name of the club was Grind. I was sure it would be true to it’s name. Why? Because what do drunk boys do at clubs? They grind up against drunk girls. Or sober girls. Or anything with an orifice they can stick their dick into…no matter how unwanted their attention was.
Joy.
Not only did I not need the temptation of hot, sweaty men grinding against my leg, but since this was the opening night for this club and it was supposed to be an ultra exclusive, high profile type of ordeal, it was sure to be packed. Word was it was going to be filled with the city’s most gorgeous and eligible bachelors, so yep...tonight was going to be torturous.
“I know what you’re thinking, Adalyn...yes, it’s probably going to be packed and I know you’ve been completely anti-social lately, but the security is being doubled since it’s opening night and because they want the club to have a more exclusive feel so they aren’t going to put up with the usual drunken dumbasses that you would see in an average club.”
“That’s not the point, Stacy. Yeah, I really don’t want some drunk guy rubbing up against me, but I especially don’t want extremely hot and successful ones doing it, either. I’m celibate right now. I don’t want or need the temptation.”
She actually had no idea just how long it had been since I’d had ‘intimate relations’ with a man. Let’s just say it had been a really long time. Embarrassingly long.
“I wish you would just let loose tonight, Addy. I won’t drink. I’ll watch you and be the responsible one for once. You can dance and have a good time and I’ll scare off any men that approach you.” Stacy’s pleading eyes made me feel horribly guilty because I knew she only wanted what was best for me, but I knew letting go would be a mistake.
“Stacy, I know you would do that for me and you are the only one I would trust to make sure I didn’t do something incredibly stupid, but I really have no desire to drink or do anything outside of just hanging out. I’ll be fine, I promise.”
I could see the disappointment in her face and for a brief moment I almost contemplated her offer. That thought quickly vanished as reality set in and reminded me of how incredibly stupid it would be. I wished we were going somewhere smaller or more relaxed. A comedy club, a karaoke bar, hell even a strip club would be better. Those environments were much more controlled and the chances of the men attending said places actually being hot enough to tempt me were pretty low.
Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe I could still find a way out of going. Stacy had other friends that would be there so it wasn’t like me not being there would ruin anything. I was wracking my brain, trying to come up with a way to back out without pissing her off. Maybe there was some old sushi I could dig out of a trash can and eat so I could give myself food poisoning. Sadly, that alternative was much more appealing than going dancing.
Right on cue, as if reading my thoughts, Stacy started in. “No matter what you’re feeling right now, you HAVE to go. If I don’t get laid soon, my vagina will shrivel up and die. I can’t neglect her any longer.”
“Stacy, it’s only been a week since you had sex. Quit being such a slut. If your vagina needs some attention, then let Gerard take care of her.” Gerard is what Stacy had affectionately named her giant dildo. Giant is really an understatement. More like terrifying. I mean, how did she even get it in there? You know what. Never mind. So not an image I needed to picture.
“Gerard just hasn’t been cutting it lately. I don’t know if it’s him or Jay-Jay, but they just aren’t jiving and I can tell the little lady is starting to grow some serious animosity towards me and when she gets cranky, I get cranky. Besides…I just had her groomed and she wants to show off her new hair-do.”
“Seriously Stacy, quit talking about your vagina like she’s an actual person. It’s freaking weird. Sometimes I seriously wonder if you should be medicated.”
“Pfffft. You know you love my crazy.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled as I headed to my closet to pick out something casual to wear for our errands today. It was rainy and tonight was going to be exhausting, so I was planning on going completely casual and comfortable. Slipping on a pair of skinny jeans, pink ballerina flats and a pink long sleeved tee, I threw my hair up in a messy bun and headed towards the bathroom.
I was not one of those girls who looked pretty without make up. Splotchy skin, and circles under my eyes. Without eyeliner and mascara, I looked half asleep. I’d spent a lot of time in my life wishing to be one of those naturally beautiful women. I had tried every beauty product known to man, but was never able to achieve an effortless beauty. So up until five years ago, there was never a time where I would even entertain the possibility of leaving my bedroom without a stitch of makeup on. Going outside nude would be less embarrassing. Okay, maybe not less, but you get it.
Now things were different though. Don’t get me wrong, I cared about how I looked. And it’s not like I had a hairy mole or a goiter or any serious flaws. Even without makeup I could pass for “pretty”, I just wasn’t naturally stunning. The difference now was that I had enough self esteem to not constantly worry about what other people were thinking about me. If someone didn’t like what they saw, then look away. I stopped living my life for others a long time ago.
My hair laid several inches past my shoulders, it’s natural color of a dark brown. Depending on the clothes I wore, I could usually keep a low profile. I was no supermodel by any means, but I knew I looked good naked. I just didn’t want to go around flaunting my body at all times. While I loved being the center of attention, it had to be on my terms and when I felt in the mood for it. Dressing modestly and not dolling myself up allowed me to stay hidden for the most part until I wanted to be seen. Dressing up and looking nice was something I only did for myself, not for someone else.
I brushed my teeth and splashed some water on my face, deciding to forgo the make up. My how times have changed. It was painful to think about my life before, in more ways than one. Sometimes I didn’t even recognize the person looking back at me. So I shoved those memories back down where I kept them. Deep down in the seedy underbelly that is my past.
Pulling myself out of my trance and forcing a smile on my face I walked up to Stacy. “Alright, dickwad. Let’s get this day over with.”