L A N A
I don't know how long I've been walking for, but I know it's long enough for my legs to feel shredded.
The cold creates goosebumps and shivers along my skin, and my heels are now working against me. I probably should've taken them off the moment I ran out of there, but they were expensive, very expensive... Well, according to what Tyler told me.
Ugh.
No matter what I do, I simply can not escape the thought of him, of what he's done, with him and Elizabeth... My feet are sore, but somehow, my mind isn't so much focused on the pain; instead, a different kind of pain plagues my thoughts.
I can't believe I was humiliated like that. How could I let them do that to me, treat me like that? I begin thinking of what else I should've said, how I should've reacted, but I was too stunned to do anything that really mattered...
I make my way through the night as the city buzzes around me, having no clue what has happened to me. I stumble through it, somewhere between rage and shock and right now, I'm not even crying anymore. That part's done. My face is smudged with makeup and tears, my body stiff, but I keep moving. I don't know where I'm going, just away. Far enough that no one can find me and tell me this wasn't real.
That they didn't really turn on me.
That he didn't really say those things.
That she wasn't in his bed this whole time.
I pass corner stores, past flashing neon signs and fast-food joints that smell like grease and burnt dreams. A group of drunk guys yells something at me from across the street, but I don't hear what it is, thankfully, and just keep walking, my arms wrapped around myself and my head down. One of them starts to follow for a second, but a passing cop car sends him scurrying. Doesn't matter. I'm already too far gone.
I could've just gone home. But how can I even do that...? It'll only make the betrayal worse and make the pain heavier. I don't want to have to think about how many times he would sneak her into our apartment when I was at work, how many times the two of them had slept together in my own bed...
No. I can't manage thinking about that right now; it's only going to drive me crazy. The best thing I can do is book a hotel. At least for the night, until I can figure out what I'm going to do... Thankfully, I still have my purse, my phone and my card. Even though Tyler was providing for both of us, I also worked as a graphic designer and media specialist, so I had a little money of my own. Not as much as he does, but enough to keep myself afloat... And though it'll take some time, I'll be able to get back up on my feet after this.
I sigh to myself and glance around me, trying to spot any bars or restaurants I could stay in while before I book an Uber and a hotel for the night, and maybe get a drink or two... or five.
I look around my for a moment, until one building catches my eye, gleaming with a red neon sign that reads...
Bella...
The name doesn't ring any bells, but something about the glow of that red neon pulls me in. Maybe it's the way the light bleeds onto the sidewalk like spilt wine. Maybe it's how different it feels from the rest of this cold, indifferent city.
I make my way towards it, but hesitate at the entrance. The double doors are dark wood, polished so clean I can see my miserable reflection in them. My makeup is mostly gone, my hair wind-snatched and chaotic. I look completely insane. I quickly gather myself and run my hands through my hair so I look somewhat presentable, just so that they don't kick me out before I can enter. All I need is just somewhere I can sit, where it's quiet and warm, somewhere that doesn't remind me of everything I've lost tonight and a place where I can just have a moment to think.
And so, I finally push the door open.
The smell hits first. Rich cologne, aged liquor, cigars. It smells like class... money. The lighting is low, ambient, and mysterious, a mix of red and purple and orange. I hear the soft hum of jazz ring through the air, and so I glance around to find a live band playing, tucked in a cosy corner of the room. A piano, saxophone and double bass echo-filled the room, and it brings a soft smile to my face as I walk in. I do really love jazz and soul music, so it's something I can appreciate...
A beautiful woman greets me at a small desk near the entrance. Her black dress hugs her graciously, like it was made just for her, and her hair is pinned up like she's walked out of an old film.
"Buonasera," she lets out, her accent light polished, European maybe, and I have no idea what she's saying, lips curved in a practised smile. "How may I help you, signorina?" She asks, and that's when I realise she might be speaking Italian.
I pause. "Um. I was hoping to just… sit somewhere. Maybe get a few drinks." I sigh heavily.
She gives a polite nod, staring at me without judgment. "Of course. Please, follow me."
I give her a small smile before glancing around as I walk behind her. The place is mostly filled with sharply dressed men and even sharper-looking women. The kind of place where you order your whiskey neat and everyone knows your name, but says it quietly. It's luxe without being flashy, and intimate but intimidating.
Maybe I should leave...
But then again, maybe this is exactly the kind of place I need to be right now. Somewhere, no one knows me. Somewhere, I can pretend I'm not the girl who got dumped and betrayed and slapped in front of a hundred people.
The hostess guides me to a bar, bringing my attention back to the present. The stools are leather, and the bar top is deep mahogany. The bartender is tall, clean-cut, and looks like he belongs on the cover of GQ magazine. He is perfectly handsome. Seems all the staff here is just effortlessly attractive. He smiles gently as I sit down, cleaning a few cups before throwing the towel in his hands over his shoulder.
"What can I get for you tonight, beautiful?" he asks, a flirtatious smile on his lips as he looks back at me.
I'm unable to help the smile that forms on my face as he looks down at me. But then I let it fade as a sharp pang hits my chest. I can't be smiling at another guy flirting with me... what would Tyler think? That would be cheating?
My thoughts are instinctual, and quickly, I remind myself that I no longer owe any loyalty to him. He's chosen to do whatever he wants, so why the hell can't I?
I lean against the bar, maintaining eye contact with him as a warmer smile appears on my lips. "3 shots of rum, please. And your nicest berry cocktail."
He arches a brow before a chuckle leaves his lips, nodding gently before he gets to work.
I settle in, letting the heat of the room wrap around me. It's the first time all night I've felt even remotely grounded, and maybe I should soak it all in.
He sets the shot glasses in front of me, bringing my attention back to him. "Rough night?" he asks.
"You have no idea," I answer before grabbing the first shot class and downing it in a second. Then the next, then the next. It burns, but it's clean, expensive, and I hope it does the trick in helping me numb myself. I sigh to myself once I've downed all of them, shaking my head for a moment before taking a sip of the cocktail, letting it slip down my throat and soothe it.
I finally allow myself to relax... but it seemingly only lasts for a moment...
I soon hear a series of footsteps echo through the room, and it makes me turn to my right, my eyes landing on the people who have just walked through the entrance.
The moment they do, the air suddenly shifts, becoming much heavier, and I don't seem to be the only one who notices it. No one says a word, but the atmosphere changes like a cold front just blew in. Conversations quiet down, and glasses lower. Eyes lift, not casually, but like they're watching for danger.
And then I see them. The five men who enter the room, immediately sending my heart racing for no apparent reason.
The one in front moves like he owns the place. He is dressed in an expensive-looking charcoal grey suit, gold cufflinks, and black leather gloves that they keeps on the entire time. In fact, all of them have gloves on... He has silky brown hair, slicked to the back is extremely handsome. But his expression makes me feel uneasy, a sudden coldness passing through my body...
Alarm bells go haywire in my mind, my intuition immediately telling me to be on high alert...
And somehow in my gut, I know he's trouble.