Sweet Home Alabama

0004: REJECTED, YET AGAIN

Where do I even begin?

My outfit.

The gown was bright yellow, clinging awkwardly to my frame. It was long, almost elegant, but Mandy had paired it with black fishnet leggings and shiny red heels that I could barely walk in.

I felt like a clown at a circus.

Mandy didn’t stop there.

She’d tied my hair into a high ponytail that made my face look rounder than usual, and my makeup? It was a rushed mess of red lipstick and uneven eyeliner.

“You look like a confused sunflower,” I muttered, catching my reflection in the car window.

“You look different,” Mandy corrected, grinning. “Besides, it’s not about the outfit; it’s about confidence. My presence is all the confidence you need.”

“Sure,” I deadpanned, wobbling in my heels as we approached the gate.

The interior of the not-so-pub-like looking pub was just as grand as the outside; chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, walls lined with expensive-looking paintings, and a sea of people dressed to the nines.

My heels clicked loudly against the polished marble floor as I followed Mandy, feeling more out of place with every step.

“What now?” I whispered, clutching her arm like a lifeline.

Mandy pulled out her phone, scrolling through a message. “We’re looking for room 666.”

I blinked. “Room what?”

“666,” she repeated, unfazed. “It’s just a number.”

“A weird number.”

Mandy grinned, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Exactly. And weird is what we need tonight.”

As we wandered through the mansion, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were stepping into something far bigger; and far more dangerous, than I’d signed up for.

But Mandy didn’t seem worried. She never was.

And maybe, just maybe, I needed to borrow some of her recklessness tonight.

______

I stood there, staring at the door.

My palms were sweating, and I was almost certain my heartbeat was so loud Mandy could hear it.

There was something about that muffled voice behind the door labeled ‘6-6-6’, crying and begging, that sent a chill crawling up my spine.

“I love you,” I heard a female’s voice behind the door sobbed. Her voice was trembling and desperate. “I said I love you A.D. Please... I love you. Please, don’t leave me.”

“Love wasn’t part of the deal. You knew that. Stop begging.” The response was cold, detached. A voice that sounded older, wiser, and completely fed up.

I swallowed hard, glancing at Mandy, who stood beside me with her arms crossed like this was nothing.

Her expression flickered, though, like even she wasn’t expecting this kind of drama behind the mysterious door. “What the hell’s going on in there?” she muttered under her breath.

But I just shook my head.

Before I could answer, the sobbing girl’s voice hitched, breaking into a gut-wrenching cry that made my chest tighten. God, what was happening in there?

My feet itched to back away, but instead, I stayed rooted to the spot, eyes glued to the door as the muffled voices cut through the tension in the hallway.

Then, the door swung open with a sudden creak.

I stumbled back a step, nearly bumping into Mandy.

A woman stormed out, tears streaming down her face, streaking her makeup in jagged lines. She didn’t look at me, didn’t look at Mandy; just kept walking. Her head down. Her shoulders trembling.

Her dress was elegant, expensive-looking, clinging to her curves in a way that screamed confidence. But her expression? It was pure devastation.

She was older than me and Mandy for sure. Maybe late twenties, but right now she looked like a little girl who’d been broken.

Like how it was with me and Jordan.

“What the hell is a grown woman like her crying over?” I blurted, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Mandy’s eyes narrowed. “I know her,” she said quietly, almost like she was talking to herself. Then, louder, “What’s she doing here?”

I didn’t ask who she was. Honestly, I didn’t care.

Watching her wipe her face and walk away like she didn’t care that we were staring, It made me feel something heavy settle in my chest. Was that going to be me?

Was I going to end up like that; broken, humiliated, and running out of this place in tears?

AGAIN??!!

The door creaked again, drawing my attention back.

A man stood there, his silhouette blocking most of the light from the room. He was tall, taller than I expected, and his presence filled the doorway like a shadow.

“What are you two girls doing here?” His voice was low, gravelly, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

Mandy smirked, stepping forward like this was just another day for her. “What does it look like?” she shot back. "We’re here to talk to him."

How did she know who's who? I bet she doesn't.

I tried to find my voice so I could back her up, even if with a ‘yes’. But all I could think about was the way he was looking at me… or not looking at me.

His eyes barely glanced my way, like I wasn’t worth his time.

“You both are too young to be here,” he said simply, almost like it was a reflex.

I clenched my fists. Another rejection, that's two in one week.

Too young. He didn’t know me, didn’t even ask my name, and already he’d written me off.

“No,” I said, my voice breaking just a little, but I pushed forward. “I’m not. I’m not too young, and I can—"

He cut me off with a glance. Just one. Like I wasn’t even worth the energy of a full response.

“Grow up first,” he said.

Then, without another word, he turned to go back into the room. No. Angrily, and a bit instinctively, I slipped in with the little space his hand had created. Of course, leaving Mandy outside. No. My confidence.

I stepped inside, and the atmosphere shifted.

The dim light filtered through the smoke-filled room, casting shadows on the walls. In the center, a man sat in a leather chair, turned slightly toward us; me and the big guy who dared told me to grow up first.

His appearance struck me instantly; he was an intimidating figure.

His hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, and his face was mostly hidden behind a sleek black fox mask that covered most of his features. What I could see was striking: his jaw was strong, angular, and his lips: thin, pink, pressed into a tight line as he studied us.

His eyes were the most unnerving part. Dark and intense . They were framed by the mask’s slits, their gaze piercing and unreadable.

I froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. I notice his freeze too. Maybe surprised to see a little girl, me, in his suite.

I felt exposed, as if the man could see right through me.

“Who let you come here? You’re too young,” he said, his voice cold, flat, and almost dismissive.

The words hit me like a slap.

I fought to keep my voice steady. “I’m not too young. I’m here. I’m ready for whatever. You didn't ask why I'm here.”

He didn’t respond to that. His eyes just scanned me again. And for a second, the room seemed to close in on me, suffocating.

Finally, he stood, his movements slow, deliberate.

He was taller than I expected, easily over six feet, with broad shoulders that stretched the sleeves of his shirt. Tattoos peeked out from the edges, wrapping around his arms, his neck, his skin telling stories I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

“Go home.”

Mia: “.....”

I was stunned. What the hell?

I opened my mouth to say something, but the words caught in my throat. He was already turning his back on me, dismissing me without a second thought.

A call came through my phone. It didn't ring out, just vibrated. I took it out, it was Dad. I'm sure he's worried and must have called Mandy too.

But I couldn’t pick up. Not now.

“Is that it?” I asked, fisting and fighting hard to hold in that tear.

The man didn’t respond. He just kept walking.

Rejected, yet again.

I stood there for a second, feeling the sting of rejection settle in my chest. But I wasn’t going back. Not now. Not after everything.

“Go home,” he had said? Pffttt! But I wasn’t ready to listen. Not yet.

So, what if he didn't even want to hear me out and freely take my virginity? Free! Tsk, tsk. There are other men around. Hmmph!