𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ✄𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐢𝐱𝐱

✄ 15 ✄

Sunset Boulevard, 1981.
(Gwen's point of view)

That night I fell asleep in my bed, I wondered if Nikki was angry with me for turning a great moment into a terrible one. It almost bothered me so much that I couldn't fall asleep until the early hours of the morning. I would give him a call but Chrissy misplaced our phone book a while ago.

When I could finally sleep, I could only dream about the guilt that consumed me. Should I have told him what they did to me in foster care? Or did I steer clear at the right time? Decisions like this were hard to face. I still have yet to tell Chrissy what they did to me after she was adopted. The cruel and unusual things they did still gives me nightmares.

I approached Chrissy, who was behind the bar. She was busy making a round of lemon drops for a table I was serving. It wasn't until she saw me in her field of vision when she gave me a smirk.

"Where did you go to last night?" She raised an eyebrow at me.

I took the opportunity to act like everything was okay by giving her a closed mouth smile and an innocent look in my blue eyes.

She let out a deep, throaty cackle and continued to look at me with her smirk that only deepened with attention. I didn't bother to speak a word. I gave her an eye roll before grabbing the tray of lemon drops from the counter once she was finished. She knew I never really talked once I would start my shift. It was something that never bothered her but it bothered other people for sure.

I worked continuously until it was growing closer to the late evening. There were less people in here than there usually was. We called it the graveyard shift. The graveyard shift is when cigarette smell wasn't as potent, the smell of vomit and beer in the garbage cans wasn't as strong and nearly every table was cleaned off. It was my most favorite shift to be on for the sole purpose of people not bothering you for orders or anything much. That was until a bunch of people came crashing in through the set of doors last minute.

Laughter seemed to be the only thing they could use to communicate as they stumbled around the floor to get a table.

I then noticed that it was Tommy, Vince, Jane, and Nikki. They all seemed to be laughing so hard because they were shitfaced. They slammed their bodies in a booth, creating a loud bang with each person followed by a loud cackle from each one.

Chrissy and I looked at their "fun time" as irresponsible and completely overrated. She and I were the only workers here and we hated it. It was punishment enough to watch these people slobber themselves with more alcohol as they were already drunk but with Jane being amongst them, we figured this might be fun.

"I'll be back. I'm gonna get us drinks." Jane announced, not sitting down in the booth but standing in front of Nikki.

"You know what we want, baby?" Nikki asked her, reaching out to drag his hand down her forearm than to her hand.

"Of course I do." She said, leaning down to connect her lips with his.

I stared at the group in disbelief. Why were they still hanging around her? Shouldn't she have thrown them to the curb by now? Why in the fuck was she around Nikki?
Thoughts ran through my head so many times that I caught myself staring at Nikki while Jane made her way to the back to fetch the drinks.

I felt my heart stop when I realized that I wasn't the only one who caught myself staring at the bassist. Nikki had connected his eyes to mine as a smirk took over his freshly kissed lips. My heart in that moment had been resurrected and going at a wild, unhealthy pace. I felt a hot feeling on my cheekbones and neck. It wasn't until I tore my eyes from his that I realized I was becoming flushed with emotion. My breathing was heavy, making me know automatically that I was angry, but what for? Why would I be so angry with Nikki all of a sudden?

I didn't snap myself from my mixed emotion trance until I felt a tap on my shoulder. Whipping my head around, I looked at Chrissy who looked more fearful than anything.
"Are you alright?" She asked, noticing my flushed appearance.

I leaned against the bar with my elbow as I sat on the stool. "Yeah," I said below a whisper. "Yeah." I said again but in a more firm tone. "Just, uhm," I stammered, looking at the dark wood of the floor in front of me.

I felt a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. My heart was still pounding out of my chest and my face was still hot. I felt the need for fresh air for once, so I looked to Chrissy.
"I'm gonna go for a smoke break." I said, not caring about her approval.

I shot up from the bar stool and walked to the front entrance with wide strides. Once I was outside in the cool evening air. I reached into my back pocket and snatched my crushed pack of cigarettes from my back pocket. I hastily took one out, desperately in need of a release from the anger built up in me.

After stuffing a stick in between my lips, I put my destroyed box in my back pocket and reached into my other one to pull out my stainless steel lighter.

I flipped it open as I attempted to ignite it but only a spark would appear, no flame. I tried again and again, but I was only growing angry with it. Out of frustration with everything, I threw it to the ground with so much force but it wasn't enough.

I ripped my cigarette out of my mouth and threw it down along with my lighter. I took my right foot and stomped on it, letting out a loud mix of a scream and groan. I then took my right foot again and stomped on my lighter but I was not satisfied. I needed to hear it shatter like how my life did.

I repeatedly stomped on it and let out a few grunts before getting fed up with it. I bent over and picked it up to throw at a nearby wall.
"Stupid fuckin' lighter!" I flung it at the wall, completely breaking the lid off.

I felt like breaking down and releasing every emotion with tears, but I couldn't let it happen. I was better than to double over and pout about everything. Instead, I took a nice deep breath. I then took a moment of clarity to realize that I would have to ask Chrissy for her lighter, but when I turned around, I came face to face with the number one person I was angry with.

"That was hot." He smirked, leaning against the door of the Whiskey.