Page 1 of For All It's Worth
Prologue
One Week Earlier - Charlie
Afterhoursofsittingin this club, the heavy bass had waned to background noise, the feeling still reverberating in my bones the only indicator that it still thudded its repetitive beat. The meeting with the owner was a distant memory, drowned in champagne and shots as I reclined back on the comfortable sofa with a sigh. This whole day had been a waste of time, but at least the drinks were decent. Nothing but top-shelf liquor.
I flagged down the hot waiter, giving him a suggestive look as he took my order. “Another round for the table.”
The “friends” I’d accumulated cheered, and the little twink that had been up in my space leaned closer to press his lips to my cheek. He fake stumbled, his hand landing on my groin, and caught the edge of my mouth. My lips quirked at how hard he was trying. He was cute, he didn’t have to work that much.
My best friend Max, rolling his eyes, caught my attention and I grinned at him as I wrapped an arm around my new friend, pulling him almost into my lap.
“Shots!” I called out as the waiter returned with a full tray and a pout at the guy trying to grind his ass on my leg. Cute as the twink was, the waiter was more my speed and I winked at him as he passed me a shot with a napkin and his number.
I tried handing a shot to Max but he indicated the bottle of hard cider he was nursing. “I’m good.”
“Oh come on! Just one,” I cajoled.
“You said that two shots ago. I have work tomorrow,” he reminded me, his tone even though there was some stress in the way he held himself. He tried to get the waiter’s attention but was ignored as the guy went to take another order. With that kind of attitude, he was risking his tip. I balled up the napkin with his number and tossed it onto the low table between me and Max.
Noticing the gesture, Max graced me with a real smile and I relaxed and downed my shot. The alcohol burned as it went down, warmth seeping into my perpetually cold body. I reached for another and caught Max frowning, but ignored it.
My buzz was building into something mellow. The edges of my vision were blurring and everything was slowing, becoming less frantic. Within minutes, my guests and I had finished the tray and I was on my way to being wasted.
The waiter returned with a pitcher of some cocktail that I couldn’t remember ordering and sneered at the guy nearly in my lap, which made me glad I’d ditched his number. “Here you go, courtesy of management.” His customer service skills needed brushing up on. I wouldn’t have had that shit in my clubs.
Being reminded of my clubs was a pang to the heart, but I pushed it aside and poured some of the unnamed drink. Hopefully, the alcohol would continue to do its job and make everything soft and warm.
The pounding music faded the more that I drank and the twink moved off with someone else when I wouldn’t dance with him. I shrugged, he didn’t matter.
I checked on Max, who was still sitting with the same bottle - it was the same bottle, right? - and looking off into space. I’d made myself a promise to take better care of him after leaving him in a bar a few weeks ago. I still felt panicked when I thought about what could have happened. I’d left him vulnerable. As the alcohol hit, I felt that promise fading as I justified my actions. Max was old enough to look after himself. He was being more careful with his drinks. It would be fine.
“More shots!” I shouted when I noticed my glass and the pitcher were empty.
“No!” Max said fiercely, his words not meeting the waiter in the din of the club.
“I want more.” My words didn’t quite come out right; I was pretty sure that I slurred them in his direction.
Max got up and grabbed at my arm. “Come here,” he demanded, leading me towards the bathrooms.
“Max, come on, let’s just go get some more then we can head out, maybe get some food,” I suggested, leaning against the cool wall of the corridor. The music was quieter here, the lighting brighter, and I could see the frustration in his face. The world started to feel very far away like I was watching from the outside and it was on TV.
“No, Charlie. You have any more and you’ll be too wasted for anything else and I’ll have to get your ass home.”
I shifted suddenly, losing my balance and grip on reality, and missed the way that Max flinched as I moved into his space. I missed the brief flash of fear before he wiped it away.
“Just one more,” I pleaded.
“It’s always just one more, Charlie. You’re drinking too much.”
My head began to pound, the light too bright and a buzzing noise in the background too loud. “I’ll be fine,” I promised.
Max wiped his hand over his face. “I can’t do this anymore, Charlie.”
“What?”
“Be around you while you drink like this. It’s too much, you’re drinking too much. You’re not yourself anymore and I hate it.”
The vehemence in his voice shocked me.
