Chapter Nineteen

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Giving my reflection one last quick check over, I am pleased with the end result. To complete my funky transformation, I spray my favourite perfume in the air and slowly walk through its fine, floral mist.

My confidence is so high and my heels are too.

Black skinny jeans are sexily tight, flattering every one of my lower curves. And my hair is sleekly long, and my lemon-coloured strappy open shoulder top is sassily short—yep, I'm most certainly ready.

Leaving my room, I smile at myself strutting towards Doug's. As I get closer, I can already hear the loud music coming from the other side of his hotel door. I knock hard, fearing I won't be heard if I don't.

I'm so relieved when Lanky eventually opens it up to me. "Hey, Frankie...you look nice." Is his sweetly given compliment.

"Awww, thanks Lanky." He's such a quiet chap, intelligent as hell, but I'm really beginning to like the pint-sized sweetie. "I see you guys have very much kicked off the party without me?" I joke, scanning the groove-filled room that has a lot of unknown faces in it.

Closing the door behind me, Lanky aloofly answers back. "Yeah, you could say that." Doug has already told me how Lanky is a total sound engineer genius, he's just not all that fussed on people, though. He is one of those guys who is perfectly happy to just fade into the busy background. "Vodka, right?" He politely asks, summoning a smile for only me.

"That would be great." Now, I'm beginning to wonder where Doug is. With my heeled feet taking me deeper into the room, I am drawn to where a group of people stand chatting over the music around a coffee table that I know is just beside the sofa. As I curiously peep over their shoulders, I honestly wish I hadn't. My blissful bubble has just been burst with the biggest but quietest of bangs—leant over the table, is Doug and this other guy, snorting lines of coke from off of it.

In silence, I watch.

In silence, I try to process how I'm feeling.

I'm disappointed.

Frustrated.

Upset.

Doug and I have never spoken about drugs, I just figured they weren't a part of my life, and they didn't seem to be a part of his.

But I can now see for myself, that is obviously not the case.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not that stupidly naïve. I know that drugs are everywhere in the world that we both are professionally involved in. I've even dabbled a bit in the past myself, but it's never been something I have needed in order to enjoy what I do. And after Falco, I knew I would never dabble again. He ended up falling more and more into drugs. It got to the point where he couldn't even deliver a set without snorting or popping something beforehand. Which was a shame, because when we first met, Falco was actually a pretty sweet guy. But his ego and his partying with drugs, got the best of him. His hunger for fame and his need to constantly get high, was the final nail in the coffin for us. I was just the fat stepping stone to the fame and to more of the drugs. Which is why I stand here so disappointed right now. People lie when they're high. They can't be trusted when they're high. And their lows are really shitty and low when they're always getting high. It's something I don't like being around too much. It's a choice that many choose to do, but it's no longer a choice for me. In the same stifling silence, I stand here so damn conflicted.

Can Doug be trusted?

How bad is his coke habit?

Is he just another Falco?

"Your vodka, Frankie." Lanky is standing beside me, watching Doug wipe his nose as he hands me my drink. "You look how I feel about it all?" He's now looking at me, solemn and with his head curiously tilted in my direction. He too, looks just as unimpressed as I am.

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