I don’t even speak to Madam Destiny on my way out. I have to crawl up the stairs as soon as I can find strength to pull my leggings back up and get out of there with something like a clear head. I don’t look at Drummond. I tell myself he has spontaneously combusted and will take this secret to an early grave. Death solves so much. She is in her private chamber waiting to give him whatever reward he earned for seeing her f****d to kingdom come. The pale average-c****d bandmates have slunk off to be bisexual elsewhere, but they will undoubtedly be doing it with less humiliation running through them than I have. I get in my car, my legs almost too weak to press the pedals, my hands almost too shaky to start the engine. Just as I do, my phone bleeps from the passenger seat, informing me of a m
