Baby, I Think I've Lost My Mind

Like Cement Stuck Up In My Head

I didn't know that "soon" would be a week after my talk with Rocky.

It was another one of those spontaneous Warbler hang outs that we tended to do quite a lot. Ever since Grant had joined the cast, he was pretty much part of the 36TD group, too. He talked musicals with Curt, asked fashion advice from Dom, and practically wreaked havoc with Titus; but where does that leave me? I felt like I was being ignored and avoided by him, but I couldn't blame him. He probably saw what he tweeted; however, when I last checked his profile, which wasn't too long ago, the tweet was still there. I thought he would've gotten it deleted at least, but no. It was still there under a few tweets of apology about his drunkenness and some other retweets aboutGlee and his upcoming project.

I was body full of heightened nerves as I sat the farthest away from him. I caught the apologetic smiles that his best friends gave me when they noticed the way that Grant purposely chose to sit in the chair at the other side of the table.

They all saw the tweet. They all questioned me about it. And I was pretty sure Dom told them about my predicament. I didn't even care that he told them without my permission; at least I didn't have to tell them myself, and even if I did, Dom would have had to swoop in and tell them himself anyway.

I just hoped that Dom only told Curt and Titus. If any of my other friends found out, then I'd be fucked.

I stared into my glass of Sprite, only looking up when Dom excused himself from the table to go to the bathroom. It almost seemed like there was a collective decision to leave me and Grant alone at the table because a few minutes after Dom left the table, Titus got up to grab another drink from the bar and Curt decided to go with him. I sent a panicked look in their direction but neither of them seemed to notice.

I felt a buzz in my pocket, and I was glad that I had some kind of distraction from the man next to me. I reached for my phone and saw that it was a text from Dom.

Talk to him, you idiot!!!!

Oh, so that's what this was about.

I locked my phone and set it down on the table. I saw, out of the corner of my eye, Titus and Curt giving me encouraging smiles. I nodded slightly as I let out a deep breath. I turn towards Grant and found him looking down at his phone. I cleared my throat.

"...Grant?"

I sounded so fucking shy. I didn't think I could do this, but I was already doing it so there was no going back now. Grant already had noticed that I called him.

"Uh, yeah?"

Oh, fuck. Why do I have the feeling that he doesn't want to talk to me? Well, news flash, we have to talk sometime, and that time happened to be right now.

"We need to talk," I said with a slight firm tone in my voice, and I hoped to whatever god out there that Grant didn't start playing the 'dumb' card. I could tell in his eyes that he knew what I was talking about, and I'd do whatever I could to get him to talk.

"About...?" He asked as his eyebrows twitched and furrowed together.

Damn it, Grant.

I suppressed a sigh and shook my head slightly. "You know what I'm talking about."

Grant appeared to be conflicted. After a few moments of what I guessed was contemplation, he eventually sighed and looked me in the eyes. "Look. I was drunk. A lot of crap comes out of your mouth when you're drunk," he said softly. So he went in that direction. Does he really think I would fall for that kind of bullshit?

"A lot of crap, my ass. Don't you mean the truth?" I challenged, a frown appearing on my face. My patience was wearing thin. I needed answers, and I needed them now.