Lost in a Reverie 18+ Only (Book 1 of Lastor Series) ['23/'24 EDIT]

Chapter 27

The clock had just struck seven and the guests were slowly filling our empty home. The new personal maids Lucille had assigned to me were almost frantic in their efforts to prepare me, making sure I looked the part of Angel Lastor. At least, as close as they could manage.

I stood quietly in front of the full body length mirror as they continued to fuss over me. I could clearly see my eyes were blood shot from lack of sleep. I had gotten paler and my skin looked dry.

I glanced at my arms, looking at the track marks up and down each arm along with the faded scars and bruises. They've spent the past hour covering them with makeup as best as they could all the while, making sure they weren't touching me directly. I was glad I had shot up on heroin during my bath, otherwise, I might have cut their fingers off by now.

Once they were finally satisfied of their handiwork, I dismissed them and went to the bathroom. I opened the medicine cabinet and took out the prescription bottle I had swiped from Mother's budoir earlier. I opened it to count the pills. There were at least thirty. I popped them three at a time, chasing each dose with a shot of vodka.

"We're okay," I whispered at the girl staring at me in the mirror. She resembled death.

As I descended the stairs, I could see sharply dressed men and women, flaunting designer clothes and expensive jewelry. A few heads turned to look up at my descent and I quickly took careful steps with my head focused on the stairs, wishing that Andrea was here. She was in the middle of negotiations for her next tour, and I didn't want to risk inspiring her to force another collaboration with me.

A waitress passed by me and I grabbed a flute of champagne, downing it to ease my nerves and quickly fetching another.

I tried to find a place to hide but before I could, a group of men cornered me, the nauseating toxic mix of their respectively strong perfume assaulting my already damaged nostrils.

They started talking and I knew escaping would be hopeless. They'd only follow me until I either chose one among them or died right then and there. So, out of courtesy, I bore with them holding a pissing contest through passively gloating about their successful businesses and pounded a glass of champagne every time one of them tried to touch me. By the eleventh glass, the pills had kicked in and I was tipsy enough to find them entertaining.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," a voice said.

The men ignored him but Rick managed to push through their shoulders and came to stand beside me.

"Here. Jude sent this for you."

He took my champagne and replaced it with a glass of water. I giggled.

"You're so fucking funny. God, how are you so funny?" I said as I took my champagne from him. "Do y'all know Rick? Isn't he beautiful? He's spectacular in the sack too. Probably way better than any of you but that's cuz he used to read books about pussies. Babe, say hi to everyone." I gestured at them. "They're trying to convince me to fuck them," I whispered to him.

He tilted his head to one side, looking at me with those questioning eyes again. He just couldn't quit with that.

"You don't look well," he remarked with concern.

I rolled my eyes at his observation. "Well, not everyone can be as beautiful as you are, babe," I said, aware I was slurring my words.

"I think it's time you get cut off," he said before taking my glass from my hand and swallowing the remaining contents of my drink.

"Hey, that was mine!"

"Come on, let's get you sobered up," he said, taking my hand.

"No! I'm having fun!" I protested.