Weigh Down on Me

|Chapter One|

This wasn't me. I glanced up at the band finishing their set under neon lights, and I sighed back onto the bar top. I never came to things like this, but it was my best friend Chelsea's bachelorette party, and I was the maid of honor. So, I really didn't have a choice. I gripped the small glass of whiskey in my hand so tightly I thought it would break at any second.

Chelsea was in front of the crowd by the stage with her hands over her head having the time of her life, and I was sitting at the bar like the loner I am. I was trying to have fun, or at least pretend I was having fun. I saw her glance back in my direction and I could feel her eyes burning a hole in the back of my head as I averted my gaze from her to the bartender.

"I will take another one." I muttered with a smirk on my face. He nodded and began pouring good ole' Jack into a fresh glass.

"Lennon." Chelsea's high pitched voice pierced my ears, and I turned to face her. Her voice always got five octaves higher when she was drunk, and tonight was no exception.

"Great party!" I yelled over the shrill sound of the aux cord being unplugged from the speaker on stage. They were now getting ready for the main act to come on so there was a lot of shuffling happening behind her.

"You've been sitting here all night; we are supposed to be causing a scene!" She whined with her hands on her thin hips. I eyed her choice of outfit and made a mental note that I would most likely have to take the tight sequin top and mini skirt off for her at the end of the night.

"Jack and I have been having a really deep conversation about pollution." I nodded my head towards the bartender whose name was probably not Jack, and he scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion.

"Really?" She glanced over at him with an equally puzzled expression, and he nodded slowly.

"She really roped me in when she told me I was using too much plastic."

I pressed my lips together tightly to suppress my laughter and shrugged in agreement.

"Oh," Chelsea murmured and turned away from me. "Well, I will be up there dancing when you get done."

Once she was out of sight, I turned to not Jack and passed him an extra $20. "Thank you."

He shook his head and put his hand up in refusal. "You seem very out of place; I figured I could do you a favor."

He was a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair that was slicked back in an Elvis hairstyle. His brown eyes crinkled at the sides as he shot me a small smile and I put the $20 back in my pocket.

"Do you even know who is playing tonight?" He asked while pointing an unopened beer towards the stage.

"No, I am just here to fulfill my maid of honor duties." I said while giving him a small salute.

"I think they are called Bad Omens." A tenor voice said from beside me. I turned to find an abnormally tall man with dark hair looming over me. He smiled down at me and grabbed the beer from not Jack. His fingers almost doubled around the bottle, and it seemed like a mini toy in comparison to how big his tattooed hands were.

"Noah, my man!" Not Jack reached across the bar and gave him a small shove.

"Thank for the beer, Pete." He gave me a small wink and disappeared into the crowd.

I let out a gasp and realized I had been holding my breath that entire interaction. Pete chuckled and I turned to face him.

"Yeah, he has that effect on people."