Because Paisley Cassidy Renee did not know how to live. She failed at everything that had to do with life.

So I would not be Paisley tonight.

I would be a stranger.

I pulled into my three-car garage, the door closing behind me. As soon as I got inside, I quickly changed into something far more comfortable. My shoes had pinched my feet, but I wanted to look like the part of the ice queen Jacob hated so much. I hadn’t been the woman he had wanted, so I would be the woman that I needed to be.

A stranger for the evening.

I slid on too-tight jeans, the ones that hugged my ass in a way I knew meant they would probably tear if I bent too quickly. I slid my feet into cute boots with only a slight chunky heel. Then put on a top that tied at the breasts, and opened up so you could see some of my upper stomach, but it still flowed down over my hips slightly. I pulled my hair out of its bun and fluffed it into the soft waves that had come from leaving it up all day. I added a bit of eyeliner, gloss on my lips, and stuffed everything I needed into a tiny bag that I could wear on my wrist.

I looked like I had in college, just a bit older, a couple of lines at my mouth. They called them smile or frown lines, and in this moment, I didn’t know where they had come from.

But it didn’t matter.

Instead, I would just be someone else for the night.

I didn’t look like the Paisley people knew. And that was fine with me, perfect in fact.

She didn’t know what she was doing.

I called a rideshare and got into the back of a smoke-blue sedan and listened to odd techno music as the driver slung around the highway. He dropped me off in a nice part of downtown, but not the upper areas. One with a few restaurants, a bookstore, and a dance hall.

“Here you go,” he said, popping his gum in his mouth.

I smiled, leaving an extra tip because he had gotten me here on time, even though the car smelled like weed. However, it was legal here, so I didn’t care.

I got out of the car and made my way to the dance hall. Oh, I should probably have eaten something; probably should’ve been doing anything but this. But I had never been there and always wanted to.

It was a line dancing bar, complete with country music streaming through the speakers, and a live band would start at eight.

It was also apparently ladies’ night, and two-dollar well drinks sounded right up my alley. I had become the champagne ice princess at one time, but now it didn’t matter.

Now I was a different Paisley. One who was going to drink those two-dollar well drinks and be anyone else.

Because this Paisley, she wasn’t working. Everything kept breaking, so I was just going to have fun.

I immediately did a shot with two random women who seemed to be on the same path as me. We nodded in agreement, as if no names were needed. Tonight was just going to be about dancing.

And so I got on the dance floor and moved to the beat.

I had decent rhythm, though I had no idea how to line dance. Thankfully people kept showing me how, laughing with me, rather than at me, as I tripped over my own two feet.

A couple of men got a little handsy, but I was the ice princess with my shroud of back the fuck off for a reason. And so they walked away, hands up with a single glare, and I kept moving within groups of women, feeling oddly safe, if not a little tipsy.

I needed to go home eventually, to cry it out, or just scream it out.

But first I was going to dance.

And just pretend.

Four drinks in, and I was not sloshed, but tired. So I did another shot. And then another. Nothing mattered in the world, and the dancing just felt good.

I laughed and I smiled, and I felt like I had no worries. It didn’t matter that I had to work the day after tomorrow. And I would probably be working tomorrow on the countless other things I had to do.

No, I was just going to be a new me for a few more drinks.

I chugged some water, made a friend in the women’s restroom as she was crying over an ex, and I told her of course that he didn’t matter, and she was going to find someone she loved eventually.