Arms Length

Chapter 9: Pray

A/N: I wouldn't normally suggest a song or two, but if you listen to "American Money" by Børns and "Pray" by JRY Freat. Rooty while reading this, you'll understand why I titled it what I did.

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**Jade**

It's been hours since the shit-show of a meeting with Billie and her team, I had my second meeting with Sara to discuss my little "outburst"; thankfully my internship with Insterscope isn't terminated. My summer internship with Billie's tour? Up in the air. Do I care? Yes. Was I too much of a prideful bitch to ask Sophie for a ride home? No. What was the topic of our conversation? Billie. Was it painfully awkward? Only for me.

"Thanks for taking me home, Soph I really appreciate it." I say, as my phone buzzes.

"No problem." She says with a genuine smile, "You seemed pretty upset in the meeting, is everything ok?"

"Can we talk about it another time Soph? It's a lot to unpack" And it really is.

She nods, "Of course, call me later." She says as I get out of her car and check the text message.

Billie: yeah, gimme a bit

Ok, so it does sound promising, but it doesn't sound great either. I walk into my apartment and set my backpack on the bar while pulling my laptop out and kick my shoes off. I power my laptop on and turn music on to break the silence, which I would normally welcome, but right now I need to get out of my head.

'Gimme a bit', I received that text like 3 hours ago. I'm pretty sure I've been stood up. I finish my 2nd or 3rd glass of zinfandel which I'm feeling more than I would had I had something to eat prior to my mini pity party of one and set the empty glass on the counter and figure why not finish the bottle? I pour the remainder of the wine in my glass, shut my laptop and grab my phone, maybe the wine has given me the bit of liquid courage I need; I open my texts and compose my message.

Me: Just forget it. It's not that important. Enjoy your weekend. SEND.

Yep. That'll show her for sure. Until...

Daph: Um sis, are you ok?

My semi-intoxicated ass just sent my sister a passive-aggressive text meant for someone else. Fuck me.

Me: Yeah, I'm fine.... No, I'm not. I had a shutty day, and ugh it's a super long story... but long story short, I've a whole bottle of wine at 9pm on a Friday night and that's where we are.

Daph: Oh sis. Put your phone away and go to bed. Okay? Take some Advil and call me in the morning.

Me: Okay.

I down the rest of my wine and set the glass in the sink before stripping out of my dress and clumsily make my way into my bathroom. I turn the water on and step under the cool stream. How is that I now feel more drunk? Pretty sure I have something I can eat in my refrigerator.

I rinse the rest of the conditioner out of my hair, turn the water off and wrap a towel around my body and my hair. I walk into my bedroom and pull a pair of shorts and t-shirt on; I make my way back into my kitchen and look in my half empty refrigerator and glance at my phone half hoping to see a text from Billie, and fully expecting to see no new notifications. A wave of disappointment or was it despair? Washes over me as I grab a banana and bowl of mixed berries. God, I need to go grocery shopping. I'll do that tomorrow. I really need to get more wine. I wonder if I have anymore?