Page 7 of Burn

Well, the answer isyes. I definitely hold him responsible for bringing that dick lick into my life but unfortunately, there’s no one to blame but myself for moving in with him after only a few months of dating, but let’s not dwell on my bad judgment and get back to blaming Tom.

In Tom’s defensive, he did warn me before I started my so-called relationship with Judah that it was a mistake, but I was being thoroughly fucked by the hot drummer in a band, so any warnings were heard about as clearly as Charlie Brown’s teacher in every damn cartoon, “whaa whaa, whaa.”

“Shit, Mila, I’m sorry, girl.” He’s cut off from any other conversation when something over my shoulder catches his eye. Tom shifts his stance, nodding toward the lobby behind me while he pulls at his dark gray button-down shirt trying to smooth out the wrinkles and then zips his black jacket up.

It’s then I realize he notices my father in the distance hovering near the lobby doors. Tom is deathly scared of my dad. Not for any other reason than he owns this hotel and can fire his car parking ass at any time. “I gotta go.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,Tom. Run away.”

“I got cars to park, woman.” With his hands buried in the pockets of his black slacks, he doesn’t turn back around. Not that I expect him to.

He’s not sorry. At least I don’t think he’s as sorry as he should be. Remember how I said Tom’s in a band with Judah?

Well, he’s not justinthe band, he’s the lead singer. When I heard from some of the other staff at the hotel his band was playing at a local club, one highly intoxicated night I decided to go check them out. I told myself I’d go and listen, but that I wouldn’t fuck the singer. Made an actual pinky promise to myself. You see, Tom being said lead singer of this particular band, and well let’s face it, singers in any band are bad news, and there’re about twenty or so hostesses and maids here at The Wellington Plaza who can attest to Tom’s reputation.

He’s a dirty motherfucker who likes to spread his love.

So what do I do? I’m sure you can guess. I go for the drummer because in my drunk-ass mind as long as they’renotthe singer, how bad can they be?

Wrong. Deadfuckingwrong. Dating a guy like Judah was cool, untilhewasn’t. Sure, the sex was good. Who am I kidding? It was amazing. Though his fetish with anal play was a bit alarming at times, and he wasn’t exactly what you’d call boyfriend material. Didn’t stop me. I still moved in with him.

When I graduated college a year ago, I slept on Scarlet’s couch and at a few other friend’s places. I refused to move back home. Essentially homeless, it left me in Judah’s bed every night. One night after we’d fucked for like four hours straight, he suggested I could you know, keep some things at his place. So I moved in. Didn’t even think twice about it.

Maybe he didn’t mean all my stuff. Maybe he just meant my toothbrush or a few articles of clothing. I didn’t ask. I just moved in and started sleeping over every night like the bed jumping whore I’d become.

This was one of those times where you wished you knew someone who had lived your life before you so they could warn you before you did stupid shit. So appreciate any advice I give you. You don’t have to thank me, just appreciate it.

Also, do yourself a favor,don’tdate a drummer. Hell, stay away from the whole fucking band! I’m living proof. That old saying, drummers hit it harder yeah, well, my ass is definitely proof of that. There’re marks down there I’m sure will never go away. He wasn’t abusive by any means, just, how do I say this . . . Actually, let me rephrase now that I’m giving this some thought. Have sex with drummers, do thata lotand you won’tregretit, but do not under any circumstances “date” them and for fuck’s sack, do not move in with them.

Take the advice. Trust the advice. For once I know what the fuck I’m talking about.

And if his name is Judah Prince, run as fast as you can.

Look past the fact that he has a vibrating tongue ring and a pierced dick. You’ll thank me for that too.Afteryou fuck him, you’ll thank me. Before fucking happens, you might be intimidated by his dark controlling eyes, as you should be. But seriously, take advantage of the vibrating tongue ring a few times though.

And if you decide not to heed my warnings and you somehow find yourself shacking up with a drummer, don’t get too comfy there because sooner or later, you’re going to find him fucking your neighbor and about to pass out in the hallway with his pants around his ankles because guess what, he didn’t even have enough decency to mount the single mom next door in a bed. They did it against her apartment door. Probably because her kids were sleeping in the apartment.Classy.

And the best part, the part that really puts the icing on the,“Are you fucking kidding me?”cake, just as you finally get him sober enough to break it off with him and his pierced dick, he breaks up withyouand asks you to move out.

Truth is, I don’t know why I thought things would have worked out with Judah and me. We’re complete opposites. Where he would stay out until three or four in the morning, I liked to be in bed by ten, and up by five to start the day. Where I liked black coffee, Judah liked Black Label and downed that shit like it was water. But whatever, it’s over now and I’m not going to be bitter.

Oh fuck that. Iambitter. How the hell do you get dumped by someone you catch in the act of fucking someone else? Bastard wasn’t even man enough to let me have the satisfaction of breaking up with him!

Drummers. That’s all I can say.

Unfortunately, my relationship with Judah was my third strike, and in my book, that means I’m out. Out of the game. No dating for me. Obviously, I wasn’t meant to have a successful relationship.

Need more evidence?

Before Judah, I had two serious relationships that ended in breakups. One was a tearful first-love devastation, and one was something similar to me begging my parents to tell said breakup boy I was dead so he’d leave me alone. And now you know about Judah.

So love life status?

Awful.

“SO . . .” A VOICE beside me draws my attention to her. It’s Scarlet, my best friend who is now my roommate.Shh. She doesn’t know I snuck into her apartment last night while she was out.

Actually, now that I think about it, that slut didn’t come home last night.