Perseverance

Chapter Fifty Four ~ October

I'm finally free.

There's no feeling like it.

I don't remember when I made it here, I don't recall even telling the cab driver that this is where I wanted to come, yet here I am.

And I'm fucking glad of it.

My feet are bare, shoes somewhere over the other side of the bar, probably shoved in a corner or in the ladies restroom.

My once straight hair has frizzed up in the heat, but I don't give a shit. Instead, I embrace it, running my hands through it every half a minute and giggling whenever someone sees me doing it.

Mom has naturally pin straight hair. I guess I don't get it from her.

My red dress is billowing out when I spin on my feet — something that's happening every few seconds and garnering me a whole realm of men applauding me.

It's way past midnight, that much I'm sure on.

It's pretty much the only thing I do know, everything else a blurry mess that I'm shoving to the back of my mind.

Lifting my right hand, I wrap my lips around the neck of the alcopop bottle and take a large swig of the blue liquid. My spare hand rises above my head, hips rolling back and forth to the Miley Cyrus song that blasts through the room.

I'm on top of the bar, something that's actually permitted here, as long as you continue to show your worth. And fucking hell, that's what I've been doing. My mind is here, completely focused on the drink in my hand, the song that's playing, the way my body wants to move.

Kicking my feet out at the start of the chorus, I begin to sing along as a line of guys cheer me on only meters away. My bottle is empty by the end of the chorus and I quickly chuck it towards the bartender before turning back around and raising my hands above my head, dropping to my knees and flicking my hair towards the men.

One of them is practically drooling and I laugh at the sight before shaking my head at him and jumping back on my feet.

I'm in my element.

This is where I belong.

So much of my life has existed of this. Before Ellis, I used to leave Sav in her pajamas, curled up in front of Gossip Girl as I went out, ready to take over the town. Or at least a bar.

I've driven girl upon girl out of these places, every single one uncomfortable with my presence. I walk in like I fucking own the place. Shove liquor down my throat. Let men buy me alcohol. Laugh like they're actually funny.

It's always my pick of the crop. Ninety percent of the men watched me, ready for me to choose which one I wanted.

But sometimes, before you take them home, it's fun to revel in the audience. After all, I came here to have a good time too. And at least half of them have never heard of a clitoris. And sadly, I never quite figured out how to pick the ones that had out of the crowd.

To have a good time, I'd forget what anyone thought of me. It's not like I've ever managed to make many friends anyway. Why try now? I'm happy with my small group, and so, I embraced the courageous woman that every other woman seemed to hate.

I would stand on the bar. I would dance until my feet felt like they were going to fall off. I would drink as much as I wanted, but still be in control. I would choose exactly which one I wanted that night. And I would leave whenever I wanted.

And that... that was all I ever cared about back then.

My biggest concern was making sure I didn't drink too much to lose control. And after five years, I'd fucking mastered it.