𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗳 𝗜 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝟮 ⁑ t.holland

19. old habits

I sat back against the red velvet couch, laughing and rolling my head back at a joke Felix said earlier. In one hand was a glass with rum at the bottom, the other, a joint. 
I brought the joint in between my lips and inhaled deeply, closing my eyes at the lightheaded feeling it gives me. A euphoric high. All of my thoughts gone with a single puff. 

I lowered my hand again and weakly turn my head towards him, giggling and unable to form a proper sentence. 
Felix, the 6'4ft, 280lb producer I knew from my earlier years, matched my position and laughed along with me. We were both drunk and high out of our minds with no worries in sight.

Eventually, I pushed myself back up and took the last sip of rum lingering at the bottom of my glass. I winced slightly at the burning feeling running down my throat before setting the cup down on the table and sitting down again, arms up on the back of the couch. 
I turn to Felix who was taking another puff, the smoke clouding up around his head. I giggle.

My eyes wander off to the rest of the club, people's sweaty bodies dancing against one another, vodka spilt onto the floors, the base making the furniture shake.
This was where I was meant to be. Whatever the fuck these people expected from me, they were wrong. 

They want to treat me like an attention-seeking, sex-driven, hot headed, piece of shit artist? That's what I'll give them. 

Felix let out a laugh mixed in with a bit of coughing. "Glad to have you back" He smiled happily.

I chuckle and look over to him again, eyes drooping and body tingling. "Of course... This place is like my second home" I joke.

"Thought you were done with all this shit?" He said, kind of asking me what made me change my mind.

I chose to keep my dad's death as far away from the spotlight as I could. Maybe it would've made a few people pity me, forgive me for my mistakes. But if that's what it took-- my father dying-- was it really worth it? 
Were they really worth it?

"Mo'fuckers kept trying to change me" I scoffed, shaking my head at the feeling of the leftover anger beginning to boil again. "This is who I am. I don't give a fuck anymore"

"Couldn't have said it better myself" He raised his joint up to me, making a "cheers" motion before sitting back down on the matching velvet chair to my right.

I watched as the owner of the club walked over to me, an ass-kissing smile plastered on his dumb face. He walked up onto the platform where Felix and I were and made his way towards me. I groaned and looked up, wondering what he wanted from me on my day off. 
"Brooklyn Gray!" He yelled over the blaring music. "It's good to see you back!" 

"What do you want?" I cut to the bullshit, not wanting to make small talk with people like him.

You'd think the alcohol would calm me down a little, but it did the exact opposite. Along with the stress and the past few shitty days, it caused my temper to be even shorter than before. Which, in all honesty, I didn't think was possible.

"A lot of people were wondering if you'd go up and sing for us like you used to" He said, my eyes meeting Felix's for a moment.

He smiled, nodding his head. I turn back to the owner and smirk.

*  *  *
Tom's pov

The two security guards on the outside of the building opened the door for me as I pushed my wallet back into my back pocket. Immediately, I was met with obnoxiously loud music and the bitter stench of booze. I guess these kinds of places are only enjoyable when you're just as black out drunk as the next person.
But for now, I had to deal with it.