Page 1 of Dark Panther's Desperate Beauty

Chapter One

Rylee

What am I doing here?

What the actual hell am I doing here?

I can’t think, and I can’t breathe and I can’t… damn it, I just can’t.

What the heck happened to my life?

I can feel my heart beating rapidly. I can feel the walls closing in on me. I can feel… Darn it all, I can feel everything exploding around me. The worst possible situation there ever was or ever will be. Is the floor shaking right now? It could be, right? I’m in California. California has earthquakes, right? It could be that. No. No, earthquakes don’t make rooms spin, though. Shake, sure. Spin, no. Right?

Dang it, I know it’s not an earthquake.

It’s a stupid panic attack.

I need to get out. I stand up and almost knock over the beer I’ve been pretending to drink. I walk around Darla and Jack. I think they’re going to screw right there on the floor in front of everyone. She’s already topless and she gave him a blowjob I tried not to see when we were in the car before. Carl says, “Where you goin?”

“Um…just going to the place on the corner.” I have no intention of going there until I say that. I just need to go.

“Oh cool, get me some vodka.” Carl is already high on some sort of powder and he’s already put away a lot of cheap bourbon so I don’t know why he wants vodka. It doesn’t matter. Everyone here is always drunk or high. Everyone here is always screwing, too. Three girls and five guys.

And me.

And I’m really at the end of being able to keep from participating. Every day one of the guys tries. Tanya, too. She wants to have sex with me, too, and she really doesn’t care if I’m into girls or not. Damn it all, I was supposed to be famous. We’re supposed to be trying to get gigs and trying… Damn it all, we’re not even rehearsing.

Sorry. I should have said, “Darn it all.” Not trying to be vulgar.

These guys are just a bunch of groupies who decided to make a band.They’re in it for the sex and drugs but not the rock and roll.

And… And I’m just stupid enough to be here six states from home with almost all my money gone and nothing but my voice.My voice which isn’t being used to make music.

And rising panic.

I run the rest of the way to the door, squeak, “Be right back!” and rush out.

I almost fall off the balcony. I run right into the railing and since it only comes to my waist, I actually lean forward and have to work to keep from ending up splat on the sidewalk below. Okay, it’s only the second floor so maybe not splat but still, not fun.

I won’t be right back. I won’t… I can’t think. I can’t breathe. I can’t…

I force myself to use the railing for support so I can walk to the stairs. Then, I force myself to take the steps, one after the other, until I’m on the sidewalk. I walk, almost running, but as I feel space seeming to flood around me, the reverse of the walls closing in on me, I start to breathe again and I slow down.

I need to get out of this situation.

I need to get the hell away from this situation but how? I mean, I don’t have anywhere to go. I’m twenty-two years old. It’s not like I have a ton of life experience. I could (and dang, I don’t want to) call my parents but that will be admitting that I’m an idiot for following my dream of being in the music industry. I definitely don’t want to do that.

But what else am I supposed to do?

I have nowhere to go, no one I can call. Sure, like I said, I could call my parents and admit my dream has died but I’m just not ready for that yet. At least, I don’t think so.

I think about what I was like when this whole adventure—Is that what I should call this sorry ass excursion into adulthood? Anyway, when things were first getting rolling, I believed in our band. I really thought we had a chance to get somewhere. After all, there was some talent there.

But most of the small nest egg I’d come to the city with was spent within a week, buying equipment for the group. This equipment has long since been pawned to pay for the barest of essentials, but it’s not like we have any gigs lined up. I mean, how do you expect us to play when everyone is constantly fucked up?

These are the thoughts that worm through my mind as I head out on foot because, of course, I don’t have a car. Hell, I don’t even have a bike. We’re in a pretty rundown area of the city and I know it’s not very safe to go wandering around. Yeah. But it feels a lot better than just sitting there watching those losers suck the life out of each other and me.

Yes, I can admit my judgement has been very bad. I can see that I need some help. Darn it, I’m just going in circles.What the fuck was I thinking? I was a sheltered only child that thought she was going to reach stardom where so many others have failed. Fuck! How absolutely pathetic.

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