Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Present (2 years later)

"Hello, Benjy!" the chipper voice of my overzealous mother echoes into the phone. "Are we still on for tomorrow night? Your father and your sisters are expecting you to actually show up this time!"

"Can you not shout, Ma?!" I respond in exasperation.

"Can you not shout back, Benjy?!" she only shouts louder, in turn.

I sigh, cringing at the nickname. "If I ever go deaf, it's on you."

"Don't give me cheek. Just be there for once," she reprimands me, using her sharp tone of voice on me. "And bring that girlfriend you always go on and on about, the one that apparently always takes you away from attending family events."

"My girlfriend?" I ask, rubbing at my temples in exhaustion.

This woman is giving me a migraine. This is exactly why I moved out at seventeen. Living with four women is emotionally draining. I had to leave.

"Yesss!" she exclaims in irritation. "The one that you always use as an excuse to not visit us," she reminds me.

It's getting difficult keeping track of all the excuses I've used. I love my family but they tend to be overwhelming. My sisters are way too invested in my social life and my parents are always pushing me in my studies; I picked up law again not too long ago.

"Right, right," I yawn, running a hand through my hair, "got it, Ma. Love you. Can I go now? Can I be released from this phone call from hell?"

"Why do you sound so tired?" she muses, being the over-paranoid, interrogating mother that she is. "Where are you right now, Ben?"

"Home," I answer her immediately. 

She pauses, suspicious, before taking her chances in asking me the inevitable, "You're not out drinking again, are you?"

"No, Ma," I reassure her, "I'm not. I'm at home studying. Those days are behind me."

"Don't lie to me, Benley. I can practically smell the alcohol through the phone cord!" she raises her voice, playing the motherly card on me in the hopes of sending me on a guilt trip.

What cord? I am using my cell phone!

"What does that even mean?" I roll my eyes in impatience, expressing my confusion. "I really am at home, Ma."

"Or you're with Bex clubbing?" she states more than questions, sure of her theory.

I flinch at the name. "That was years ago, Ma. You know how I feel about her, it, that thing, whatever-you-want-to-call-her, now. She's a soul-sucking demon--"

"A bloodthirsty witch, yadda yadda ya," my mother cuts me off with a lighthearted laugh. "I've heard all the complaints, my boy, one too many times."

"Do you want to hear more? I've got more," I reply, swallowing a grin as I anticipate her predictable response.

"Okay, Ben, so long as you're not out drinking. Can't chat, see you tomorrow, bye now," she answers all too quickly before hanging up on me.

Works every time!

I smirk, turning back to the wild, expectant crowds at hand as I put my phone away. "Let's get this party started...again!"

I grin in satisfaction, elated when they all cheer my name in unison. I can't believe I got them to be quiet for so long.

"A girlfriend?" Greg Warner, the owner of the bar, raises an eyebrow at me, an amused smile on his face. "Since when? Every time you come here to the bar, you have a new girl on your arm."

I shrug before carelessly downing another shot. "It's a good life."

"For now," he corrects me. "I used to be a lot like you when I was younger." He narrows his gaze in warning, "Take my advice and slow down or you'll miss it all."

"You're not that much older than me, Greg," I tell him cockily, taking a short break from being DJ, allowing someone else to take over from me. "Besides, I can handle my alcohol."

"You're twenty-one. I'm twenty-nine. I'd say I have learned a lot more lessons than you have, trust me," he warns again, pouring himself a glass of water. "This person you're being right now is not you. You're avoiding something and this," he gestures around, reading me, "is your outlet."

"I don't get how Jay put up with you," I joke, knowing how close they were.

When I met Aqueela, two years ago, she introduced me to a different life. Jay, Greg, others, they're all a part of that life now. I actually have people in my life, thanks to her, who care about me.

Greg chuckles, taking no offense. "I think it's the other way 'round. Jay is as stubborn as sin, more so than you."

"Now, that I can believe," I smile wistfully, recalling all the good times. "But what I can't believe is that he's really gone."

After Aqueela left, so did Jay. I'm getting used to being left behind.

Aqueela meant a lot to me. I would have never recovered from Bex cheating on me without her. I grew close to Jay too. He meant a great deal to me as well. It seems as if I'm always the one who cares just a little bit more, the one who's always just a little bit more invested. It sucks because I'm the one who always ends up hurt. They're out traveling and living life while I'm in here moping, wondering if I'll ever hear from either of them again.

"Yeah," Greg nods, agreeing with me, "I'm already missing his presence around here."

"You think he'll ever come back?" I ask for the sake of conversation.

"I hope so," he eventually replies, taking a sip of his water. "I'd like to see where my prodigy ends up in life."

"You think you can take me under your wing next?" I remark, messing around.

"Nah," Greg laughs it off, his mannerisms similar to that of Jay's, "you're a lost cause. There's no saving you, MacAllister."

It's true.

"Bummer," I chuckle, feigning disappointment, before getting up from the bar chair. "I think I'll hit the dance floor again. This place is packing."

"Don't come crying to me when you're suffering from a major hangover tomorrow morning!" he calls after me.

I hesitate, weighing the pros and cons out in my head but end up getting distracted:

"Benley!" one of the blondes I've been hanging around with calls out to me, beckoning me to join her as she moves her hips to the rhythm of the music.

I turn back around to face Greg. "Thanks for the shots but my name has been called. I'm officially being summoned," I tap the bar counter twice and wink at him before walking away.

"Aqueela would be disappointed in you," he says after me in the hopes of stopping me.

It doesn't stop me.

The fact of the matter is, I'm disappointed in her too -- something I plan on working through, one of these days. Nonetheless, two years have come and gone. I haven't heard a single thing from her. No one has. I can guess where her current headspace is. She's not coming back.

"Hey," I greet the pretty blonde, having already forgotten her name.

"You good, party animal?" she asks flirtatiously, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder, revealing the top of her skintight dress.

I nod, taking the opportunities as they come. "I'm fantastic."

I'll worry about the destructive path I'm headed down another time. Tonight, I'm not thinking about my studies, the dinner with my parents, my supposed girlfriend, or Greg's warnings on my apparent obsession with partying and alcohol.

Tonight, I de-stress and undress.

*~*~**~*~*

"You finally heading out?" I vaguely hear Greg ask me, the light beginning to stream in through the windows.

I nod, focusing on maintaining my balance.

"You look terrible," he says bluntly, noting my silence. "Do you need a ride home or something?"

I shake my head, merely adding to the pounding pain reverberating through my head. If I open my mouth and speak, I might just throw up everywhere.

He shrugs, letting it go. "Alright, then."

There's only one person that he'll go out of his way for and I'm not him.

I weakly push open the doors before stumbling out of the bar, only to be met by the punishing rays of the sun.

"Watch it!" a passing stranger, a businessman, snaps at me when I happen to fall in his path. He shoves me out of his way, clearly off to a meeting of some sort.

Greg was right. I'm regretting my choices. I'm wasting away here. What am I doing with my life? Because, right now, my studies are taking a backseat.

"Sorry," I mumble in a slur, trying to make it back to my car without collapsing.

I fish out my keys when I reach the car. I get them out of my pocket before fumbling with the carlock, my hands still shaking. Out of it, I give in and simply rest my head atop my car instead, trying to steady my breathing.

"If you haven't seen better days, then I worry for mankind," an unfamiliar voice says from somewhere very close beside me.

I jolt up, turning to see a raven-haired girl staring up at me with concern budding behind her blue eyes.

I groan aloud at being caught looking like this by a beautiful girl.

"Would you believe me if I said that I actually have had better days?" I ask sheepishly.

She takes a second to think about it, her gaze fixated on me before she quickly shakes her head. "No. Probably not."

I sigh. "Didn't think so."

She instantly smiles, gently tugging the keys from my grasp. "Are you really going to try and drive home in the state you're in?"

When I don't answer immediately, she quirks an eyebrow at me as if to say 'just try me'.

"I'm in a good-looking state, and who said that I'm driving home?" I ask her, aware of how attractive she is. Still, I need my sleep. "Don't make assumptions."

"So, where are you driving to then?" she asks, curious and concerned. "Maybe I can help you out and drive you there," she offers, a kind-spirited smile on her face.

"Sure," I agree, "just give me the directions to your house and we can be on our way."

"Oooh," she laughs -- an angelic noise to sober me up, "who's making assumptions now?"

"Hey," I point out the facts, "you're the one who approached me."

"Out of sympathy," she teases.

"Still counts in my books," I reply, winking at her. I can barely hold a conversation right now and yet still, I'm flirting with her.

"Are you seriously trying to pick me up when I'm literally here to pick you up?" she questions, an amused sparkle flickering across her sea-blue eyes. "I mean, you're literally supporting yourself against your car. You can't even stand on your own and you think I don't notice?"

I let go of the roof to cross my arms over my chest in a futile act to save my pride and dignity. "What's your point?"

I manage to lose my footing with the new action and end up slipping. Fortunately, she's there to catch me, allowing me to lean my weight on her.

"My point being," she emphasizes, helping me upright, "other than you literally just falling for me, you're either going to kill yourself on the road or someone else. I'd hate for it to be either."

"You smell good," is all I manage to get out.

I hear the sound of her melodic laughter again before blacking out completely.