Broken and Screwed 2 (BS #2)(22)

I’d take what I could get for now. Maybe enough of me would heal that I wouldn’t be so shattered when he eventually left.

The band played for an hour. They’d stop and discuss sections of a song, then start over again as they implemented the new changes. It was fascinating to watch. We remained at our table without speaking. When Jesse’s chest started to rise up and down at a steady rate, I knew he’d fallen asleep, but I didn’t move away. Bri came over a few times and had a new water bottle for us. After the third time, I started to ease from Jesse’s arm and stood. Bri was talking by a bar with a guy who was stocky and an inch shorter than her, but he had a scar that ran across his entire face. It started at one corner of his forehead and ended underneath his chin on the other side. He saw me first and nodded in my direction. Bri turned around with a friendly smile. She looked around me and her grin softened with fondness. She gestured to Jesse, “Is he sleeping?”

“Yeah.” She wasn’t surprised by that. “Does he do that a lot?”

She shrugged before she slipped behind the bar’s counter. She reached underneath and pulled out a shot glass with a bottle of Whiskey. Filling it up, she slid it towards the stocky guy. “Drink it, Emerson.”

He hadn’t looked particularly friendly before, but a small scowl appeared. He was terrifying now.

He growled at her, “Fuck off, Bri. I’m not drinking that shit.”

Her eyes sparkled as a smile lit up her face. She poured another one for herself. “I’ll take it with you. You lost the bet, fair and square. You have to drink.”

He continued to scowl at the shot glass.

“It’s not going to disappear unless you drink it.” Bri winked at me behind her hand and she held her own glass up. “Come on, you big baby. Luke said you were supposed to take five shots tonight. You’ve got some catching up to do.”

“Luke can kiss my ass.”

His statement would’ve only been heard by the two of us, but the music abruptly stopped right before. Everyone heard it and the lead singer gripped his microphone. He growled into it, “You lost the bet, Emerson. Take your five f**king shots.”

The drummer started a roll as he taunted into his microphone, “Em-er-son. Em-er-son. Em-er-son.”

“You can kiss my ass too, Braden,” he shouted across the warehouse. “Screw all of you. I’m out of here.”

The drummer changed his chant, “Hy-po-crite. Hy-po-crite. Hy-po-crite.”

As he stalked towards the door, past Jesse, Emerson shoved outside. Jesse had woken and looked at the door in confusion.

“Your boy’s awake.” Bri handed the shot to me. “He looks like he needs this more than Emerson did.”

I wanted to ask her more questions, if Jesse did this a lot? When had he started? If they knew anything about him except his name? So many were burning in me, but I took the shot over to him and put it on the table. “That girl, Bri, said you looked like you needed this.”

Jesse took the shot without argument.

“Hey!” The lead singer had come over. He nodded to me in greeting, pulled a chair out, twirled it around, and straddled it. “I didn’t see you come in.”

Jesse grimaced. “Yeah, to get away. You know.”

The guy nodded, then slid his gaze to me and held his hand out. “Luke Skeet.”

I took his hand; it was firm and polite, nothing more. “Hi, Alex Connors.”

He nodded, there was no recognition, no speculation, nothing. He turned back to Jesse, his grey eyes were alert. I felt slightly zapped by this guy’s attention and I could understand why so many girls had fallen in love with the lead singer to Braille. I had heard so many talking about the band when I was still working at the coffee hut in the mall. I hadn’t really cared or listened, not at that time. I’d been just holding on and trying to survive. Now I wish that I had listened more and learned more about this band.

I glanced at Jesse underneath my eyelids. He was friends with them and he had come here to get away. That told me these guys were either important to him or they understood him in a way that no one else did.

Luke was saying, “….this feast on that Saturday if you and your girl want to come.”

I tensed, waiting for Jesse to say the inevitable ‘she’s not my girl’, but he only shrugged. “Maybe. Some of the girlfriends are throwing a picnic for the team. You guys should come to that.” He grinned to himself. “Tiffany would drop bricks if you guys showed up. She wouldn’t know what to do.”

Luke’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Is there going to be food?”

Jesse’s grin turned into a smirk. “Lots of it. You guys should come, the whole band. Brielle too.”

A smile had been growing on Luke’s face, but it froze at the last words. “Why Brielle?”

Giving me a tired smile, Jesse seemed oblivious to the sharpness from his friend now. “She’s part of the band, isn’t she?”

“Since when do you care about who’s in the band or not?”

Jesse turned, frowning now. “What?”

“Nothing,” Luke bit out, taking a deep breath and loosening the tight grip he had on the table. “Nothing, man. Sorry. Yeah, maybe we’ll check out your picnic.”

Jesse started to chuckle.

“But only if you come to the feast that night.” Luke glanced at me. “And bring your girl.” From how he stressed that word, he was either fishing for information or he wanted to remind Jesse that he was taken. My eyes slid over his shoulders to Brielle. She was behind the counter again, trying to pour drinks for the band but the drummer kept poking her in the shoulder. She would swat at him, but he’d dance back two steps and when she went back to pouring, he’d poke her again. After a few more pokes, she set down the pitcher of beer and whipped around. Her fist was cocked and she punched him in the shoulder. Howling, he fell back, but he still couldn’t contain a wide smile. She rolled her eyes. When he poked her again, she went back to swatting at him. The rest of the guys ignored the commotion. But then Brielle glanced at us and her features tightened for a moment. Her eyes narrowed, but then she forced a friendly grin at me.