Roadie: A Summer Set FanFic

Chapter 7: The Aftermath

*I do not own any members of any band mentioned throughout the chapter*

Tess's POV:

Zam.

Flashing lights, the thick stench of sweat, alcohol, and overused cologne, pulsing music that vibrated deep in the pit of your stomach.

The others went nuts as soon as we walked in the door. Weirdly enough, no one checked me for an ID. The bouncer did eye Tay as she passed him though. Ew.

Someone dragged me to a booth and pushed me into it. I sat quietly between Connor and Jess while everyone tried to make themselves heard over the music.

A few minutes later, Stephen and Brian returned with trays of various beers, cocktails, and shots. Everyone seemed to have a designated drink, and they passed me something electric blue.

"What is this?" I called to Brian.

"Not really sure!" he called back. "Something fruity. Drink up!!"

As I stared at the glass, my stomach turned over at the smell of it. I looked around. Stephen was drinking from a bottle of beer, Tay also had a colored drink, but mostly everyone was taking shots, even Connor and John, whom I was pretty sure were underaged.

"Come on, Tess!" someone's voice rang out.

Suddenly the smell of booze was overwhelming and I began to feel dizzy. I mumbled that I was going to the bathroom and managed to escape the table.

It took too long to reach the bathroom. When I got in there, there was a small group of girls passing around a joint, a couple hooking up in a stall, others smoking cigarettes, and the smell of everything increased my nausea.

Flashbacks hit me like freight trains.

The first time I caught my mom drunk. Coming home at midnight on a Thursday. I was nine.

My first house party. Blake's boyfriend's house. Alcohol and cigarettes everywhere, until the cops showed up. Blake dragged me into a random car and we got away. I was thirteen.

The first time I hung out with a group of musicians downtown. I turned down every drink or blunt they held out to me. They called me horrible names I hadn't ever heard before. I was fifteen.

Every single memory of my mom's boozed out breath screaming at me hit me over and over until I found myself hunched over a toilet in a random stall, everything I'd eaten that day staring back at me.

I felt like I was suffocating. I couldn't catch my breath. 'I have to get out of here,' I thought desperately. I wandered through the club as quickly as I could in my slightly disoriented state.

Finally, FINALLY, a cool breeze hit me in the face, entered my lungs, cleared up my head a bit. I sucked in breath after breath of the relatively clean air until the buildings around me stopped spinning and I was breathing normally again. I slumped against the wall for a minute, until I realized I could feel the bass of the music pumping through the brick, so I leaned forward off of it. I checked my phone. 1:29 am. Then I began to walk.

I wandered through the streets alone, praying I was headed in the right direction. It was well after midnight, but the streets were still alive with people. In my old neighborhood, everyone is inside by 11. If you're walking around outside after that, everyone assumes you're some kind of thug.

After over an hour of walking, I found the hotel. Thank god I had my room key in my pocket. I quickly went up to me and Jess's room, but the darkness felt too tight. I got claustrophobic, so I grabbed my guitar and went back down to the lobby, walking around until I ended up in a public lounge, stopping only to get water from the vending machine.