"So... who are you with?" The burly security guard steps forward, barring your way.
"I'm with the band," you say, your voice loaded with suggestiveness, and it doesn't go unnoticed.
He raises an eyebrow, taking in your too-tight dress and cherry red...
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AN: If you've read this story before I'm changing up the name of Arabella's best friend... can't have her being called Grace now I've started writing my dad Van stories!
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But I don't see Johnny later. Not all day or all evening either, and by 11pm I'm flagging, my eyes bleary and scratchy after the previous night's indulgences. I moodily and reluctantly take myself off to bed.
My phone buzzes with a call on the nightstand just as I'm drifting off to sleep. I groggily reach for it, checking the caller ID through half-closed eyes. It's Portia, my best friend and partner in crime from back home.
"Be-lla!" She calls out in a loud song-song voice as I answer the call. I can hear the deep thud of music, noisy background chatter and clinking glasses down the line.
"Hey P," I pause to stifle a yawn. "How are you?"
"Good, good! Whatcha doing babe? It sounds a bit quiet on your end."
I sigh, hoisting myself up into a sitting position, leaning back against the headboard. "I'm in bed actually."
Grace's shrill voice almost deafens me and I have to move the phone away from my ear. "Inbed? It's Saturday night for gods sake. What's wrong with you? Are you sick?" Then her voice thankfully drops lower. "Or have you got company? That's it isn't it? You've bloody gone and pulled already haven't you?"
"No, I'm alone," I say glumly. "Where are you?"
But I don't really need to ask. Saturday nights are always the same. Cocktails and champagne at our favourite bars on King's Road. Designer dresses and killer heels. Drunken dancing and flirting with hot guys, and then there would usually be a house party to attend. Now here I am, alone and in my night attire, ready to call it a night and it's not even anywhere near midnight.
I listen enviously whilst Portia launches into telling me about the new shoes she purchased shopping that afternoon and her plans for the rest of the night. Eventually she tails off. "Are you even listening to me? You've not fallen asleep have you?"
"Of course I'm listening. I'm just grumpy and fed up, that's all. I'm stuck here in the arse-end of Wales whilst you're in London living it up. It's not fair!"
