Title: Trainwreck
Rating: T-M
Summary: Bonnie's life in Miami is one disaster after another but when she returns home for her sister's wedding, she falls in love with an old childhood friend.
Bonnie woke up in a pool of her own vomit and spat out the last of the bile. Running a tongue along the front of her teeth, she could still taste the last of the sour wine she'd consumed last night.
She prepared to slink out of bed but when she swung her legs to the side she bumped into something hard and upon opening her eyes, discovered it to be the back of a car seat. Presumably she had fallen asleep in the back seat of a car. Upon further investigation and decoding a number of clues from a pair of strappy stilettoes on the floor, a purse with spilled contents and a pair of pink fuzzy dice hanging on a review mirror she learned that this was in fact her car.
Her head was ringing as she picked at red bits of vomit that had dried on the side of face. She sat still for a while trying to readjust to everything around her. Fisting her hair and hunching over, she felt another gag coming and wondered if she'd have enough time to crack the door open before decorating the floor with remnants of her stomach again but it was merely a dry gag. She heard the splashing of waves from afar and whipped her head around to see a sparkling marina from the back window.
The light hurt her eyes. What time was it and why the fuck was she sleeping in her damn car instead of the comfort of her bed or better yet, a man's bed? The memories came rushing back; the NBA player's party on the yacht that had quickly morphed into a pseudo sex party, the bumps of cocaine and shit loads of champagne and then the athlete who had taken her aside so he could fuck her in the backseat of her car.
She didn't remember his name but it didn't matter because they were all the same from the athletes to the rappers she encountered when they landed in town to shoot a music video or just to party. They promised to show her the world, promised to take care of her but all they did was leave just like her papa left her momma. The only time someone had actually done anything for her was that time that music producer put her in that rapper's music video where she got three seconds worth of screen time clad in a yellow bikini, lost in a throng of women all vying to be the main video vixen. Then there was the Chevy Impala Derek Hale bought her and the playboy bunny necklace he gave her that she still wore to this day. She climbed over to the driver's seat, her tight scuba dress with the front zipper riding up her thighs as she positioned herself behind the steering wheel.
She studied her face in the review mirror, fluffing her blonde hair to reveal the paw print tattoos riding the side of her neck and then bugging out her green eyes rimmed with dried blue mascara, checking the bags underneath them. When she looked out though the windscreen, she noticed a piece of red cloth stuck beneath one of the wipers. Leaning closer to the glass she noted the cloth to be her panties, the skimpy lacy ones she'd purchased at Victoria's Secret a month ago.
"Asshole" she cursed, her hands tightening around the steering wheel then she flung the door open to retrieve the evidence of her shame. The grey gravel was white hot under her bare feet ad the sun was burning holes in her back. Her hair stank, her dress reeked and she probably looked a fright to any onlookers but she was too sick to care. Climbing back into the car, she pulled piles of crumpled receipts from her purse, trying to find her car keys. Spilling the remainder of the contents onto the passenger seat, she sifted through shiny packets of condoms, coat-check stubs, business cards, party fliers, a hairbrush, a pack of cigarettes, tubes of lipstick and the rest of the junk.
"Shit." she spat. No car keys. Pulling a cigarette from the pack, she slipped into her mouth and fired it up with a lighter. She inhaled, let the smoke sit in her mouth, drew it in through her nose then puffed out her cheeks as she blew it out. Smoke swirled around the car, soaking into her hair. She reached into her purse to pluck out her cell phone but lost her grip on the thin, sleek metallic shell as it slipped between her clammy fingers dropping to the floor. She glanced around, patting the floor to feel for the phone and there under the brake pedal where the phone had slid, she found her car keys.
Slowly she pulled the '67 Chevy Impala out, its cherry-red paint gleaming in the sunlight. She needed to get back to her apartment and clean herself up. She sawed through traffic, past BMW's and Lamborghini's and raced the needle as her Chevy sped down palm tree lined streets.
..
When she arrived at her apartment, a pink eviction note was tacked to the centre of her of her front door. Bonnie looked around the hallway and snatched it off her door, crumbled it with her hand and tossed it on the floor. She unlocked the door and made her way into her tiny apartment which overlooked a tacky parking lot. Kicking through clothes and designer bags strewn on the floor, she made a beeline for the fridge and took out a six-pack, cracking open a bottle of beer and stopping to stare at the wedding invitation attached to the shell of the fridge. She took off the magnet and read the invitation again for the hundredth time, lifting it to her nose as she leaned against the door of the fridge. The place was decent enough with a sleeper couch, a large plasma TV, a double bed and a small kitchen but there was no privacy since everything was open plan. She sprinkled fish food into the fish bowl for her gold fish and ashed a cigarette into the cactus pot plant lining the window after taking in just three puffs and then she called Katherine, her best friend.
Katherine fashioned herself a model with a fake Colombian accent and legs up to her earlobes but it was a lie she sold well because she was a looker and the streets smarts she inherited as a Brooklyn native didn't hurt either. When Kat picked up after two rings she told Bonnie that she was at work promoting some new Vodka but that of course bonnie could crash at her place for a few days. Satisfied with the outcome, Bonnie took another swig from the bottle and pulled her dress over her head, exposing her tan lines and the small butterfly fly tattoo on the small of her back.
She brushed her teeth to rid her mouth of the sour taste of wine and Christ knows what else and jumped into the shower to clean the stranger's sticky sweat off her skin. As she scrubbed and moved around the shower, she felt something between her legs. Slowly putting a finger inside, she pulled out a condom and stared at it dumbly before stepping out of the shower and shutting off the faucet. She tied it off, tossed it in the toilet and flushed. She wasn't worried about clogging the toilet especially since her landlord was kicking her out. Padding toward her medicine cabinet, she plucked out a packet of morning after pills and threw it down her throat, chasing it down with the beer. It couldn't hurt to take one just in case some sucker sperm slipped into her but she didn't even want to think about what else could have slipped inside her during the process.
When she was done she slinked into a white blazer dress with a plunging neckline, sky high-heels and an abundant amount of gold jewellery, she gathered all her overpriced junk and tossed it into her Louis Vuitton luggage bag and wheeled it out of the apartment and into the elevator.
She didn't look back because she had no time for sentiments. She had made up her mind, she'd stay with Kat long enough to collect some cash and get out of town, at least for a little while.
..
Later that evening Kat and Bonnie went out to a club infamous for is Cuban beats, a celebrity DJ and celebrity clientele. They pushed past a flood of people and made their way to the VIP section. After a few drinks and some dancing Kat told her she was holding a bag and they went to the toilets to snort down a few lines.
"Why don't you sell your car?" Katherine asked, titling her head back after sniffing a long fat line.
"Sell my car?"
"Yeah then you can pay your rent."
"And how'd you propose I get around Miami without a car?"
"You can lease something"
"Derek Hale bought me that car." She cried, wrinkling her nose at Katherine. Derek played for the Miami Dolphins before getting traded off to the Cowboys after a winning streak. She truly believed that he loved her right up until she made the horrendous mistake of loving him more than he did her.
"Look, it's my sister's wedding so I'll probably skip town and gather my thoughts back home." Bonnie slapped the door open and they sauntered out back to the noise of the club.
"Were you going to attend your sister's wedding had your landlord not tossed you out?"
Bonnie glanced at Kat, the music swallowing her response. The roar of the crowd startled them both and when the crowd jostled, they pushed further trying to weave through the dancers and back to their privileged spot in the VIP.
"Ahh so that's the catalyst." Kat said, craning her neck to see above the heads of the revellers and Bonnie followed her line of sight.
"Tyler Lockwood." She smiled, looking at the wide receiver with the best hands in the team. He played for the Dolphins and made some darn good catches last season. He also happened to be a former lover even though three weeks of hook-ups didn't exactly qualify him as a boyfriend.
Nonetheless Bonnie knew she had found her mark for the evening.
..
ESPN played noiselessly on a large plasma TV in the background. It was morning and sunlight streamed through expansive windows, hitting her face. It burned like fire and stung like a bitch. She propped up on one elbow and clutched a snow-white sheet to her chest as she looked on the empty side of the bed where Tyler had slept. She scanned the room, her eyes darting to a lampshade in a corner where her black thong still hung before gliding over to an ice bucket containing a bottle of crystal covered with a napkin. Crawling out of bed with the sheet around her, she strode over to the table with the ice bucket and plucked out the bottle to check its contents. She swirled the bottle around, peered at the contents through its mouth, noting that there was one or two gulps felt at the bottom and emptied it in one gulp. She padded out of the room passing several framed awards in the hallway and found Tyler outside on the balcony making a phone call.
She waited in the cool interior of expansive the lounge and poured herself some scotch from the decanters lining the bar. When he finally padded back inside the house he gave a look that said are you still here? Ignoring his cynicism,she gave him a chaste kiss on his cheek and smiled. He pulled back and reached for something in the pocket of his black sweatpants and handed it to her. Bonnie didn't need to look to know that it was a check but she was curious to know the amount. She looked down at the figures and noted the two thousand dollars scrawled in black ink. She kissed him again then strode to a nearby couch to find her clutch bag, slipping the check inside.
"That's it." Tyler said while she picked up her dress from last night.
"What do you mean that's it?" She glanced up, hands poised over the straps of her mini dress as she shimmied back into the silver fabric.
"That's the last check you're getting from me." He replied, grabbing bottled water from a silver leaf bowl on the table in-between them.
"This is like only the second check I've gotten from you like ever"
"So?" he looked up and unscrewed the top.
"I mean I've fucked you like how many times?"
"Oh I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that was buying your pussy."
"You know what I mean" Bonnie shook her head, gathering her hair up into a messy topknot.
"Just take the check." He fished her scandals out of a handful of clothes strewn across the floor and handed them to her.
Making her way toward the door, she glanced back over her shoulder and shot him a big smile, "See you around."
"Not likely." Tyler shrugged and closed the door in her face. She stood outside his door tempted to break down the wood, tear the check and throw it in his face but she was out of options and she needed the money.