Post by hannah on Nov 27, 2011 5:57:56 GMT
a tango just for two
"I don't have an ID," Jamie slurred, "I left it in my room along with my key! Which is why I'm here!" As if for emphasis, a hiccup bubbled up from Jamie's lips and the concierge rolled his eyes, repeating--for the umpteenth time--a memorized, robotic monologue about why he couldn't just give Jamie the room key without any ID. But Jamie wasn't listening to the concierge's stupid explanations and ridiculous inability to stress his words in an effective way. "Seriously, I'm Jamie Bright! You can Google on me!" Google was a good ID, correct? Apparently not, because the concierge gave Jamie a flat look that was clearly his "it's 3 AM and I have no time for drunk bass players" look, and Jamie turned on his heel and walked back to the hotel's bar, where he'd been only half an hour before. It hadn't been his fault that he'd forgotten both his ID and a room key back in his room, and it wasn't fault that he was too drunk to argue well. Well, technically it was, but by drunken logic, it was everyone else's fault. Jamie stumbled to the bar, where the bartender gave him a sad look and started to make a gin and tonic, maybe out of habit after having dealt with Jamie for the past three hours, but most likely because Jamie was pretty sure he'd slurred the words upon sitting down at a bar stool.
Through the window, Jamie could see the bright, clear sky and he wondered fuzzily what Lucas was doing right now, all the way in California. The question's probably who, not what, Jamie reminded himself bitterly, though he knew this was being hypocritical. Jamie took his ring off and spun it on the counter, watching it with the kind of intense amusement that is usually reserved for fireworks displays and car crashes. Maybe this was a car crash. Maybe this whole marriage was a car crash. What about Jamie's whole life? Surely not. He was doing fine, especially so now that Lucas was out of the picture. For now, he thought and didn't even try to push the thought away. He knew it was a "for now" kind of arrangement and that he'd be back with Lucas before he knew it. After all, he couldn't quite imagine where he'd get his fill of drama from if he were to cut Lucas out of his life completely. For an instant, Jamie considered calling Lucas and breaking it off completely, just to feel that satisfying thrill that powerful acts generally give to people, but really. Seriously. No.
An hour slipped by, unnoticed by Jamie and a tall, blonde girl with eyes that could cut him to ribbons if she so pleased passed in and out of his life and the bar without his even noticing. She had that sad kind of look that girls generally got when their lives were going to crap, when they realized that they'd lost count of how many guys they'd slept with and they still hadn't found happiness. Girls like that made Jamie feel a little bit lonely for them, the same way that street cats did. He wanted to be friends with them, to take care of them, but knew that, in the end, he'd just end up bleeding out and with no cat.
Time to figure out what to do, he told himself, standing up from the bar unsteadily. Time to figure out who can get you back into your hotel room and at what cost. But, upon wandering into the lobby, he didn't approach the concierge again, but sat in one of the plush, fluffy armchairs and decided to take a nap. He was tired and sloppy drunk. If he'd been at a club right now, he'd be that friend that everyone was looking for and no one could find. Jamie sank into the armchair and stared through the glass door at time flitting past in the form of brightly coloured headlights. Fuck, who was he kidding? He couldn't sleep here. Restlessly, Jamie curled his feet onto the armchair with him and started to count the number of cars that drove past, hoping to keep himself entertained enough that he could stay awake until he was able to just get back into his damn hotel room.720 words