You're So Pretty When You Cry

It was just supposed to be a stupid night out at the bar, with a stupid British kid performing, to get my mind off a stupid boy. My mind was racing from sex, to Him, to the music, to my friend inside, to the pain in my chest, to the alcohol in my other hand; everything but the cigarette trembling in my hand. I stayed standing there behind the bar like a crack whore for another ten minutes, at least, before I noticed the music had stopped playing. It was then that I noticed a male standing next to me with a dopey smile on his face and holding a lighter towards me, his bright orange hair looking like a mess. "It's not lit, sweetheart."


2. The Walk of Shame.

It wasn't until I heard the loud and somewhat obnoxious voice of my friend Triana that I tore my eyes from Ed, my beer moving to rest on my lips as I look in the direction of her high-pitched squeal. She was standing at the bar, standing on her tiptoes and waving her hand to me to try and get me to come over. It was a funny scene, but it was just a tad bit funnier because she was tipsy and wobbling around on her little tiptoes to try and get my attention. I rolled my eyes and moved through the fairly crowded bar scene to get to my fellow short companion, arriving next to her after a few moments of awkward body contact with total strangers.

"Hey, where were you? Did you get lucky in the bathroom? Was he cute? Where is he?!"

The bombardment of questions was something you got used to with Triana, especially when she was drunk, but I was the same when I was drunk. . and with Triana. I'm not too popular with the boys or the girl, in all truth, and Triana was one of my real friends that I connected with on a different level, if you understand what I mean. We both went through a lot of things, and even though we didn't have each other at the time, I'm really glad to have a friend like her to help me through things now. . .

Anyways, as she searched for my mystery bathroom-stall lover, I chuckled and sat at a stool next to my honey-colored friend, leaning back against the counter with my elbows on the counter nonchalantly. Triana had suggested dressing up, but it wasn't a real club, so we figured we could just wear jeans and a tanktop or something. She had always been made to wear a jacket over her tanktop by her parents, but at the moment we were taking a few months off from our parents in a cross-country roadtrip provided by our school as a senior trip. Of course, this was a lie. A very elaborate lie that we had concocted and made up paperwork for and worried our asses off that our parents would find out, but it paid off, apparently. We were 19 years old and we were living it up on this girly road trip and bull shit. You should really try it; but you have to remember to be the smartest girl in the room, no offense, of course. Oh, and before you point it out, I do know I said nineteen. Triana and I are very smart girls, and we have our connections to make fake IDs, of course.

"Are you listening to me?" She questioned with a huff, her big brown doe eyes staring me down, her brow creased slightly in mock frustration. In all honesty, I wasn't, but I nodded quickly and smiled cheekily. She rolled her eyes and smiled flirtatiously at the bartender, batting her eyelashes and giggling as she took her marshmallow vodka shots and looked at me with a bright smile and nodding her head to the side. I knew she was referring to the bartender, so I took a quick glance at the male.

He had curly brown hair and bright blue eyes, kinda like Ed's, and was wearing a tight black polo with the buttons undone, some chest hair poking out. "Pretty cute.. Probably like a seven.." I murmur to her as she take the seat next to me, the four shots he had poured for us sitting on the counter space between us. "A seven? He looks like an eleven to me." I chuckle at her ecstatic outlook before she leans in and grabs my wrist, to pull me closer as she whispers in my ear with a giggle, "I don't know, but he's more attractive cause he gave us these shots on the house."

"No wonder you were so flirty." I respond, slapping her knee playfully before turning in my stool to face the bar, putting my bottle on the bar as I enjoy Ed's voice resonating throughout the Blue Bird, giving it a classier environment than just a country shack that passed off as a bar. I took one of the shot glasses with the trademark blue bird on the side and looked at Triana, doing the same as me. We smirked at each other as we counted down mentally and took the shots. I cringed slightly at the burn, clenching my teeth in an ugly smile as I glanced at her. She laughed at my face, covering her mouth as she tried to keep her volume down, my face returning to its normal expression, a slight grin on my face. "Shall we take another?" I questioned with a wink, Triana returning the wink and with an enthusiastic, "Hell yea!"

After three more free shots after the initial two, I don't remember much. I know Ed got off stage around. . I wanna say one in the morning, and they brought in a DJ and sound table and all that jazz who brought in more party music than country music. I think it was like open mic night or some shit. Anyways, Triana and I had gone out on the dance floor, not quite feeling the full effect of the alcohol, and began to dance with surprisingly good rhythm. It must've been cause we were drinking. We got a little closer throughout our dancing, probably to get more guy's attention and the fact that our inhibitions were thrown to the wind as our sobriety slowly came close to nothing. I think after we had a nice group of guys giving us attention, we separated, but stayed close enough to see each other. Even though we were drunk, we still had enough common sense to make sure we didn't get separated.

I remember dancing with a few guys, Triana and I switching partners like we were speed dating and being flirty enough but not enough for them to get the idea we were sluts, you know what I mean? Haha, well anyways, once it hit the three a.m. mark, I think we got kicked out. . . I think?


Triana's foot in my face was what woke me up. To be exact, Triana's foot kicking me in the face, was what woke me up. I groaned as I held my nose and sat straight up, hitting the side of my ear on the back of my front seat. "Oww.." I pouted as I held nose and head, looking around groggily as I tried to figure out my surroundings, if you will. It would appear that we had slept in the backseat of my car together, rather than laying in the front seats and leaning them back. I had slept on the actual floor, letting Triana take the seat, hence why she had kicked me in the face; and the fact that we slept with our faces at opposite ends. I looked out the window from my place on the ground and noticed it was rather cloudy outside, only streams of sunlight peeping through here and there. I figured it as still early morning, so not a lot of sunlight was to be expected. I dd my best at being quiet as I gathered myself, slowly crawling up and over the middle console of my car and sitting in the passenger side.

I pulled down the sun visor to look at myself in the mirror and immediately regretted it. I was looking rough; my eyeliner was smeared all over my eyes, making me look like I was either crying or trying to impersonate Rigby. I ran my fingers through my hair as I pushed the visor back up and glanced around my car for my little purse. I didn't keep much money in it or anything, I just wanted a cigarette. I wasn't in the mood to play scavenger hunt so I just opened the tiny middle console and grabbed one of the millions of packs I kept in there for an emergency. I pulled a cigarette out and checked my pockets, relief washing over me to find I still had my lighter on me.

Trying my best to be quiet, I opened the door of my car and closed it quietly, stretching my body out and fixing my shirt so my cleavage was normal, not literally hanging out. When we had gotten to the bar, I thought it had been a good idea to park to the side of the dumpster, to where you couldn't see my car, just in case we had to sleep there and we didn't have a high risk of getting kidnapped or anything. It was a good idea, but the smell was God awful when I got out. I made a face as I quickly scuttled away from the dumpster and put my cigarette in my mouth, shaking my head in response to the smell. My dainty little hands reached up to light the cancer stick, take a drag, and pull it from my mouth in a methodical motion. My pale green hues looked up to see the back of the bar illuminated by the always running lights, and an even better sight; Ed.

"Well, if it isn't Miss Popular." He grinned over at me and jerked his over to the entrance, as if calling me over to him. I was pretty excited to see him. I was a Band Groupie, I had to admit, and so was Triana, which might explain another reason we click so well. I slowly walked to him, taking my time so I didn't trip and look like an idiot; I was already looking like a mess and I had the same clothes on from yesterday. "Yup, that's me." I finally said in a late response to Ed's greeting, his dopey smile ever present.

"You taking a walk of shame? Those are the same clothes you had on yesterday, aren't they?" He questioned, looking me up and down, in an innocent way. "Of course, me and Triana fucked in my car, and I was the one who had to leave." I teased the Ginger, taking the second drag from my cigarette as I put my hands around my body, one arm raised at the elbow to hold my cigarette near my mouth. "You have a friend?" He said seriously, taking me by surprise. "Duh? Why would I come to the bar alone and get drunk? I didn't want to get killed." I said with an incredulous tone, wondering how someone could ask such a stupid question.

"I just figured you brought a boyfriend." He replied curtly, giving me an apologetic smile, his pale blue eyes crinkling softly with the motion. I could feel the twinge in my chest as he mentioned boyfriend, but I did my best to ignore it as I gave a cold chuckle and looked up at the morning sky. "Nah. No boyfriend. Too much drama. You know." I stayed very short and we stood in silence, just the sound of our soft breathing and my occasional exhale.

"You do know it's noon, right? You should probably get home and change." Ed suddenly broke the silence, his orange hair flashing in the corner of my eye as he turned to walk away. "Hey where--" I paused in my sentence as Ed turned back around to listen to me, his brows arched slightly, waiting for me to finish.

I wasn't usually speechless from someone's looks, but I swallowed as I tried to figure out what I wanted to say. He chuckled as if he didn't know what to say in response to my odd behavior before he shook his head. "I'll be performing here again tonight, if you would like to bring your friend again. I'd love for you to be there." Ed had broken the silence once more for me as I held my cigarette, my hands now dropped at my sides, the smoke of it wafting up to my nose slowly. I nodded slowly as I watched him smile and wave before walking away, moving to the front of the Bar it would seem.

I quickly put out my cigarette and began to walk back to the car. I slowly and quietly got back into the bug, now in the driver's seat and sat there staring at the clover necklace around my front mirror. I was lost in thought. What did I just do? It was like I stroked off over there. How weird. . . Maybe it's this Walk of Shame bullshit.

I had to get home and change. . I had another date tonight, with a Ginger.

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