I walked toward the bar, doing my best to avoid the other celebrities standing around. Really, the place was packed. Don't these people have press conferences to go to or something? Eventually I made it to the bar, which was surprising empty, considering the amount of drunk people around. I pulled up a stool near the middle and waved my hand to signal the bartender.
"Hi, I'd like to order two drinks, please."
She rolled her eyes. "Everyone wants to order drinks. What kind."
"Surprise me." The bartender sighed and got to work. As I watched her, I noticed that she looked kind of familiar. "Hey, has anyone ever told you that you look just like Sugar Bijou?"
Again she huffed, then pointed at her nametag. "This clearly says Becca Bijou. I'm quite obviously her sister. Please stop talking to me." She shot me one last glare, then returned to mixing. How rude.
I tried to think of the most evil things I could to do her, but by the time she'd finished mixing, the only thing I could think of was not tipping. She slammed the drinks on the counter and slid them toward me so fast that they almost shot off the counter and flew to Shug themselves. I leaned over to catch the glasses, trying my hardest not to fall off the stool on my ass in front of Bridgeport's finest. Scowling, I picked up my own drink and raised it high over my head with the intention of pouring the entire glass down Becca's shirt, but before I could do anything the glass was plucked from my hand and the smell of France's finest cologne flooded my nostrils. I whipped my head around to see who was obstructing my very criminal version of justice and came face to face with Matthew Hamming, Bridgeport's most gorgeous, most famous bachelor. I also came face to face with the gag-inducing scent of his alcohol-heavy breath.
"Why, thhhaaannnkk youuu, darling, mmm hmm hmm," he slurred. "This," he said, tapping my nose with his free hand. The French accent he worked hard to conceal in his movies was in full force tonight. "Is exactly what I ordered. Annnd I don't just mean the drink."
As awesome as it was being hit on by Matthew Hamming, I just couldn't get over the injustice of thwarting my plan to douse the impudent bartender in the vile liquid of her own making. Half of me was all for going along with this drunk star, but the other half of me wanted to take his scarf and wrap it around his neck so tightly his head popped off. Part of me, though, was also delighted at his sorry state. The poor guy was so intoxicated that he'd wandered out the VIP section into the common area, even though he's the most legendary one in the entire club. I grabbed the glass that was meant for Sugar and started sipping, hoping a little liquor could help me decide what to do.
Hamming wrapped his arm around my waist, then let his hand fall a little lower, taking a firm, but not strong, grip of my right asscheek. I should have been completely repulsed by this invasion of privacy, and I did, in fact, get the urge to splash my drink right into his drippy eyes, but then I noticed the stares of envy I was getting from Elvira and another girl with red hair—was that Caroline Custard?
"Would you like to spend the night with Bridgeport's most eligible bachelor?" he cooed, while also tightening his grip on my cheek. "We can head back to my place and see if the hot tub still works." He hiccupped.
I felt a presence enter my mind. I think Elvira was trying to check my relationships, to get some dirt on me. I did my best to fortify my mind, tried to think only of tonight and not last night, downed the rest of my drink in and effort to protect myself. Elvira finally gave up and left my mind. Once I was sure she'd exited, I let my thoughts wander back to Griffin. Even though we were going out, I was sure it'd be over before it started if I slept with another guy, especially Matthew Hamming, just a day after our first kiss. Plus, I wasn't a big whore like Bianca. I couldn't do it.
"Maybe we could just go back to VIP and spend a little time—"
"Babe," he breathed out. Again, my nose was assaulted by the smell of spirits. "We're not getting any younger. Let's get out of here, go back to my place… What is it you want? Clothes? Furniture? Cars?" Another hiccup. "I can buy you these things. But first, a night of desire?" I could feel his grip on my asscheek getting entirely too tight; his fingers were practically in the crevice. Now I was getting pissed.
"Look, I said no. You can't just pick me up. You're drunk as hell! And I didn't even like your last movie." Nobody heard what I said, but everyone saw when I pushed him into the bar, evoking the gasps of all the one and two stars in the room.
He stood up in a drunken rage. "Oh, so now you're too good me, Matthew Hamming? Really? You're too pure? Well, I—" Hiccup. "Beg to differ, seeing as you're hanging with Slutty Bijou and last week's nut!" I assume this was a reference to Elvira, judging by the hisses that escaped her. "Whatever, you're too much of a nobody for me anyway. I'm driving home!"
I froze. Driving home? I don't want my first encounter with fame as the bitch who sent Matthew Hamming into a drunken car wreck! "Babe, wait!" I yelled across the room as I ran, in heels, to catch the raging movie star. Lucky for me, he was so drunk that he'd started heading back toward the VIP section rather than the elevator. And, after he ran into a few other celebrities, I finally caught up to him and grabbed his hand. "Babe, wait, come here," I said, trying to pull him unto a couch near the VIP door.
"Unhand me, you filthy normie!" he said angrily. He tried to rip his hand away from mines, but I had the iron grip of a demon.
"Babe, please," I whispered close to his ear. "I really neeed to talk to you." I let my voice drag just like the girls on pornos. I was trying to play to his flirt, a trait that we both shared. He grumbled, but he did allow me to pull him into the seat. Once he was down, I planted myself in his lap, not necessarily to be seductive, but just to make sure he didn't go running off again. He was really too drunk to move me if he wanted to. "I'm sooo sorry, Matt," I said, looking down. "I thought you liked to little roughness, a little resistance? I was only trying to tease you," as I said this, I looked up into his eyes with the naughtiest look I could muster, while slowly tracing circles into his chest. Then I leaned my head on his shoulder so I could whisper into his ear. "I really hope you still like me," I said, letting my lips graze his neck. It's really a wonder that I didn't throw up at the smell of at least two hours of constant drinking, but by this point, there was too much adrenaline running through me.
I guess that won him over again. He growled in my ear. "Well, then let's go… I have the keys," he said, pulling them from his pocket. I snatched them from his hand, but before he could say anything, I interrupted.
"Let me drive, sweetie. I like to think I have a little… whip appeal." If you know anything about Frank Ocean's song "Whip Appeal," then you know why this caused his eyes to widen and why he relented so easily.
"Whatever you say, just let me go get my things from the VIP section." I got off him and stood up, convinced that he wouldn't try to bolt. I was prepared to wait outside, but he grabbed my hand and dragged me back there with him.
I wasn't surprised at the doubled amount of sexiness that the VIP section exuded, but I was surprised to find Bianca back there, hooting it up with Lola Belle and Tom Wordy. I freed myself from Hamming's grip and walked over to them. I was not longer star struck, seeing as I'd bagged the biggest prize in the city.
"Bianca! How did you get back here? And what happened to Evan?" I asked, completely ignoring Lola and Tom. They didn't seem to mind, though, as they were still engaged in conversation with each other.
"Oh, the bouncer? I left him in the elevator. I managed to get him undressed without even unzipping my dress, then I opened the elevator back up and walked inside. He wasn't gonna chase me naked. He's too proud, and he doesn't even care that much." She said this in the most pedestrian way.
"Wait. So you didn't sleep with him? I really thought you would," I immediately wished I hadn't said that. But thankfully, she just laughed.
"Yeah, that's what I was going for. I needed him to believe it. But clearly, it's me that should be worried! Matthew Hamming? Seriously?" She pointed at him, who was furiously digging through the coatrack.
"Had anyone seen my scarf? I can't find my scarf," he yelled. It was still wrapped around his neck.
I rolled my eyes and leaned closer to Bianca so no one else could hear me. "I'm not gonna sleep with him; at least, I don't plan on it. He's super drunk and when I rejected him, he threated to go drive home. I don't wanna have his death pinned on me, so I'm gonna drop him off at his place. Besides, I still want to go on a date with Griffin, maybe to a movie. It's gonna be time to call him in about an hour."
Bianca whistled. "Well, alright, girl. Gone 'head." She smirked as Hamming finally made his way back to us, holding a scarf that didn't belong to him. He waved at Lola and Tom, nodded at her, then took my hand again. He swept me quickly through the VIP doors, through the common room crowd, but not quickly enough that I didn't feel the hard stares from Elvira and Caroline. I turned around and waved at them as we left.
When we got through the doors of the lounge, Evan was standing outside, looking irritated and disheveled. I tried to pass without him noticing, but I before we could get into the elevator, I was stopped by his heavy hand on my shoulder.
"That friend of yours is a bitch. I know what you two did, and don't think for a second you'll be getting out of here without—"
Hamming slapped his hand from me. "Ernie, we don't have time for you to pretend that you're actually out here doing something. And who do you think you are, touching my little, umm, my little—"
"Zayn," I answered.
"Touching my little Zayn like that! I should have you fired. I should have you indicted. You know that I still could tell the police about—"
"Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry Mr. Hamming! I don't know what I was thinking. Must have been a bit confused! Do you need me to grab you guys a drink to go, or go valet your car, or—" But Hamming was already pulling me into the elevator. I made a mental note to shoot Bianca a text about her would-be lover.
Of course, on the way down, Hamming tried to pull a fast one on me, which led me to kick his ass out the elevator when we reached the floor. He took it as some sort of masochistic gesture, though, and simply wolf whistled. Finally, we reached his car, and I drove the wasted stud to his Celebrity Hills home.