“A round of Daisy Chains, please,” Eric yells to the bartender.
“What’s a Daisy Chain?”
“The drink, I don’t know. The act, don’t ask.”
The drink turns out to be Sambuca shots. The smell of the anise is strong, and I wince as I swallow it. Holy fuck, that is surely going to kill me. Urgh, the aftertaste is rancid. The next drink is called a Candy Maker which is actually tequila.
The night carries on with lewd, homosexually-named drinks being served to us. We loosen up and start dancing. It doesn’t bother me that I’m surrounded by sweaty males with bodies to die for, or the fact they all have their tongues down each other’s throats. We just get lost in the trance, enjoying the carefree buzz. Kate is beyond smashed, and I’m not far behind her. As I dance, I feel my tiny purse vibrate. I pull out my phone, squinting to read the message.
Lex: Charlotte please, I am so lost without you
1 Voicemail message
My heart skips a beat reading the message. Maybe it’s the Daisy Chains and Candy Makers that loosened me up, but suddenly, I feel the urge to listen to the voicemail and not delete it like the other dozen I had this week. I motion to Kate I’m going to check my phone, but she’s too preoccupied being sandwiched in between two guys who love dancing with a straight girl.
I make my way over to the corner and press into my voicemail, covering my other ear to drown out the music.
Please talk to me. I can’t go on like this. We said we would start over, but you’re not here with me, you’re not even talking to me. Charlotte, listen to me when I say you can trust me. This is not what it seems. I need you… I need us to be okay. Please talk to me.
The line goes silent, and the pang in my heart deepens. This man is my husband, so what the hell am I doing? But it wasn’t like it was a real wedding.
Walking back to the bar, I push my way through the crowd unaware of my trance-like state. Was I wrong in all this? But how could that possibly be? The pictures looked real, and someone out there wanted me to see them. Who sent me this link? Someone in love with Lex, I thought.
“You okay, Charlie?” Eric asks, out of breath.
“Yeah. I think I need another Daisy Chain.”
He laughs, pulling me over to the bar. “Was that Lex you were texting?”
“No, I wasn’t texting. I read the text he sent me and listened to his voicemail. The first time I’ve had the courage to all week.”
“C’mon, Charlie, even I’m wrong for judging, hear him out at least. You know you wanna get back to tapping his hot ass again.”
“If only it were that easy.”
“What’s going on, ladies?” Kate rests her head on Eric’s shoulder, slurring her words.
“Charlie just got a text and message from Le—”
The whistle blows loudly in our ears. We all cringe.
Apparently, it’s conga time, but the gay version. And that’s our cue to leave. Eric joins the gay train and waves goodbye.
Kate and I stumble our way home to pass out as soon as we walk through the door of the hotel suite.
***
I move my tongue around my mouth, it tastes bitter and cotton-like. As I swallow, I feel the nausea wash over me. Running for the bathroom, tripping over Kate lying on the floor, I barely make it to the bowl before the ramifications of last night’s shots take place. I sit there minutes on end unable to peel myself off the cold tiles. I’m dying, there’s no other explanation.
“Charlie, are you oka…” Kate pushes me aside taking my spot.
Oh, fuck no, I can’t watch her puke as well. I run out of the bathroom pacing up and down the living area thankful that the trashcan stands by the small kitchenette and sink. That will be the last time I ever set foot in a gay club. Ever.
Hours later, we manage to shower and get dressed. I say goodbye to Kate, thanking her for making me forget and also letting me stay with her. We agree to meet up for coffee tomorrow before she is due to fly back home.
As I walk back into my apartment, the familiarity of it all overwhelms me. I’m exhausted, no doubt from the lack of sleep this week, the clubbing, and the