𝑭𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑭𝒊𝒙𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 {𝘚𝘢𝘭 𝘍𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘳}

Careful [12]

"Gimme all your love, all your tears
All the hate you feel..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Honestly, Dark Autumn Complex is doing it right. They aren't in a giant hotel/casino mashup where all of the big guys perform, they're in a little bar down the strip. Still enough room for tons of people, but it isn't crawling with bodies like bugs under my fucking skin.

And it's a really nice bar, by the way. Mostly an indoor venue, but they have a little patio right in front of New York, New York-- and also some really tasty looking chicken wings.

My only complaint is the copious and nauseating amount of liquid covering the floor. Yea, people are living it up in here, but I think they're living a little too hard. This is definitely a toxic mixture of vomit, alcohol, and urine-- but I'm not the one who's going to actually confirm that.

Todd, on the other hand...

"For fuck's sake," the man hisses, taking knee-to-chest steps through the nasty flood on the floor. "I shouldn't have come. It'll take me weeks to get this stench off of my shoes."

"Oh, come on Toddler. It's not that bad," Larry harumphs, elbowing an unamused Todd in the ribs.

I snort, shaking my foot out after passing through a particularly goopy substance. Is this even real? It has to be a fever dream. "Actually, it is that bad, Lar. Even The Hangover wasn't this over the top."

Larry rolls his eyes next to me. "You're just a bunch of weaklings. Right, Sal?"

My head drops down at the sound of his name. I'll only add to the mess on the floor if I so much as look at him. He really hurt my feelings, and it's embarrassing to admit that.

The man doesn't say a word, but then again, none of us should have expected him to. He's a little... no. I shouldn't be angry, I should be upset. He hurt my damn feelings. More importantly, I should be focused on why his words hurt so damn bad. It's not like I expect something better from him.

Why do I have expectations at all in regards to him?

Not to mention, there's the daunting fact that he's finally texted Lexi. I don't know what to do-- I don't even think I want to reply. But unfortunately, there's a part of me that would feel horrible for making Lexi ghost him when he clearly cares about her to some degree.

Too many questions, not enough answers, and way too many worries. I'll file this all away in my cabinet titled Later.

Our group continues to push through the crowd. We're about an hour early, as per request on behalf of Ash who's hoping to find hot girls. Can't hate on the game, I just hope I have a bed to sleep in tonight.

I watch my every move, all three boys trailing behind me as I walk along the sopping ground. The LED's flash across feet and skin, and more importantly, the slick floor makes the light reflections seem even brighter. That means I'm blinded the entire way with only a few moments of relief and clarity.

There's one step I take in which my foot catches against something, so I desperately grab onto Ash's forearm to keep myself steady. She doesn't even look back, just lets me hold onto her-- I guess she's used to having me around already. That's cute. So, I balance myself then let go, traipsing through this toxic quarry of sorts.

Something I've never learned, no matter how many times it's made itself known to me, is to never trust myself. Or my feet, for that matter. If there's an open opportunity for me to be clumsy, my body will absolutely break in two to ruin my day and everyone else's.