Page 5 of Life of the Party

“Don’t go anywhere without telling me. Okay?”

“Okay.” I agreed. It touched me when Riley was like that, when he took care of me. I smiled warmly at him. “You either.”

The crowd was reaching a fever pitch around me, but as time went on, it all became a blur. I was aware of myself, unconsciously chain-smoking, grinning from ear to ear in my comfortable seat at the back of the table. The music was pumping into my soul, it seemed, the lights beckoning, the rhythm washing over me. I felt gloriously, deliriously happy, like there was a pent-up energy within me that needed to be expelled and could only do so in the form of radiating euphoria.

“How are you feeling, Mac?” Riley leaned over to me once. I looked at him and smiled with all the love in my heart.

“I love you, Riley. I love you.” I professed emphatically.

He looked surprised at first, but then after a moment, he laughed sheepishly.

“Yeah. E will do that to you.”

He was right. I even told Charlie I loved her at least once. But I did—at that moment I loved each and every person near me with all my heart. Everything was perfect, the lights, the music, the people surrounding me, the dance floor…

“Riley, let’s dance.” I decided suddenly. It was the best idea I’d ever had.

“Zee, I don’t really…”

I wasn’t listening. I stood and grasped his hand, dragging him along. The crowd was no longer overwhelming as I shoved our way through, reaching at last the cramped little dance space with the coloured block floor. I stared at the changing colours in awe until Riley shook me out of my trance. Laughing, we started to dance, closely, compelled by the tight crowd to move even closer together. As we danced to Papa Roach, I shut my eyes, felt the music, felt the heat from the people around me. My hips swaying, my arms in the air, my hair damp around my face.

When I opened my eyes again, Riley wasn’t dancing at all. He was standing there, staring at me. I couldn’t discern the look on his face. It nearly alarmed me to sobriety.

“You okay, Ry?”

“Yeah, I… Look, I have to talk to you, Mackenzie. I have to tell you something.”

I shut my eyes again, I couldn’t help it. It felt so good to dance, so freeing.

“Can we talk later, Riley?”

“No. Mac—” Suddenly, the music was cut, the crowd cheering lustily as the band took their places on stage. “Come with me.” Riley mouthed, running his hand through his dark hair, agitated by the mushrooms he was on, agitated by all the noise. It got worse when the band started playing, launching into a heavy, driving song, peoplepressing in around us, moshing, dancing, the music blaring through the speakers. It was loud, rowdy.

Chaotic.

But when I looked up at the stage, everything went quiet. Everything else faded away.

He was gorgeous. And it wasn’t just the E talking. I actually heard myself gasp at the sight. His jeans were ripped and tightly hugged his thighs, spread apart below a sleek red guitar. Deft fingers skimmed across the strings, strumming, picking, changing chords. His hands were tanned and dark; his arms tattooed and muscled, his torso covered by a dark black t-shirt, tight enough to hint at the firm chest beneath. His hair was dark and short and messy, his cheeks stubbled, his face passionate as he crooned into the microphone.

He was the hottest guy I’d ever seen. Not in a pretty boy way, but in a motorbike riding, bad boy kind of way. It wasn’t just his looks; it was the way his face contorted as he screamed into the mic, the unbridled passion with which he sang.

I had to have him. My eyes stayed glued to his form as Riley pushed his way through the crowd, dragging me back to our table. I stopped there, refusing to go further, refusing to do anything but watch my dream man sing.

“Who is that Riley?” I asked breathlessly, transfixed.

“Who?”

“The singer.”

Riley looked up, then back at me quickly, his face showing alarm. “Why?”

“Because I want to know.”

He sighed. “That’s Grey. That’s the guy from work.”

“Grey,” I repeated in a breathless whisper. “Like the colour grey?”

“I don’t know. Can we go, Mac? I really need to talk to you.”

---