One Night Melody

“What the f**k!” I blurt, staring at the half-crumpled note in my hand. It said “Thank you for reminding me what music feels like again–D” My eyes flick to the pile of clothes on the floor. “There's no way I'll ever forgive Betty and Rayna for this,” I mutter under my breath. My head throbs, and flashes from last night start to rush in. A few days ago. I got a call from a colleague at work. “Uh, Ruth, you might want to check your phone. Frederick just released something.” I wondered why that was a big deal till I saw it. Number 1 trending song on Spotify– Your Grace. My eyes stung as I tried to fight back the tears. My eyes were still fixated on those words in disbelief. How could he do this to me? I trusted him, we were like family. Why would he steal the song that was meant for the Atlantic deal? He knew that was the one song that could get me out of the mess I was in. He knew that was my last shot. And he did it. Frederick actually did it. My chest tightened as I felt the tears I had been holding back streaming down my cheeks. I didn't leave my apartment for days, not even when the Atlantic label called me a thousand times. I couldn't bring myself to answer their calls. I was ashamed. I was ashamed I trusted him. I was ashamed I had no proof. The label would think I had leaked it or worse, that I was careless. Just when I thought I could cry myself to invisibility. The front door burst open. Shit, I forgot to lock it. “Girl, don't tell me you've been crying your ass out in here for days?” Betty marched into my room, hands on her hips. Sunglasses still on indoors. “Betty, Frederick just stole her song. I'd cry for days too, if I was in her shoes,” Rayna said, trailing behind her, holding a bottle of wine. “I told you something was off about that boy from day one. "I could sense it,” Betty added, surveying the chaos of my room. She shook her head and gently sat beside me. “I get that it hurts, but you can't just give up just like that.” “Look at how far you've come, Girl, you landed a deal with the Atlantic label. Who says you won't do it again, Ruthy?” Rayna plopped down at the foot of my bed, her curly hair bouncing with every word. “You know what? You guys are right” I sniffed. “I landed a deal once. I can do it again.” “That's the spirit.” Betty grinned. She pointed to the pile of tissues on my bed. “Now you need to clean this up and get ready.” “Ready?” I asked, confused. “Ready for what?” “Ready to partyyyyyyy!” Rayna screamed, uncorking the wine. It sprayed a little on my rug, but she didn't care. “You two are insane” I chuckled. “Maybe, but you're not sulking here another night, not on our watch,” Betty said, already rummaging through my closet. Two hours later, I found myself in a corset that held my boobs up tighter than my hair tie and a mini skirt that would get me fined for flashing if I dared to bend down in front of the pulsing light of the club vibe. “I'm not sure if I want to do this,” I groaned. “It'll be fun,” Rayna said, grabbing my hands, “What about this, we just grab a few drinks, and if you don't want to stay after that, we can leave.” I let out a sigh and walked into the club with my head up high and heels clicking on the floor. The club smelled of alcohol, sweat, and too much perfume. Flashy lights flickered all across the room. The music was thumping so loud, they could probably hear it a mile away. We hadn't even been there 10 minutes when Betty asked us to play a drinking game. I knew I couldn't say anything to get out of it, so I agreed. “I feel like I'm going to throw up”, I gagged after my seventh shot. “No, you have to drink this, or you lose,” Betty slurred, observing the whole room, and a devilish grin formed on her lips. “Okay, so if you want to get out of this, you have to pick anyone in this room, and you have to kiss him.” “What? Kiss someone? I could barely hold eye contact with a barista last week” I blinked. “You know I can't do that, I haven't kissed anyone in years, I don't think I still remember how to.” “Well, it's your choice,” Betty replied, passing me another drink. I felt my stomach twist from the thought of taking another drink. My head felt light, like it was about to float off my shoulders. The lights felt sharper, like I could feel them through my skin. “Fine, anything not to take another shot of this poison?” I slurred, staggering to my feet. “Go girl!” Rayna clapped. “I can do this,” I muttered to myself. I scanned the room, making my way through the dancing crowd, searching for anyone who looked decent enough to talk to. And then I saw him, he was standing at the far end of the club in a hoodie and dark shades, holding a half-empty bottle, observing like he didn't fit in. Drowning himself with the remaining contents in the bottle and I could tell he was going through his own problems just from a glance. And maybe it was the alcohol in my veins, or it was the ache that still lodged in my chest, but something about him felt relatable, like pain recognized pain. Maybe it was because I was going through my own hell, too, that I approached him. When I finally reached him, I leaned in close enough to be heard over the music and said the first thing that came to mind. “You look like you hate it here more than I do.” He turned his head like he hadn't expected anyone to talk to him. A faint smile tugged at his lips, he took a sip out of his bottle then he replied. “Guess we have something in common.”