Page 35 of Obsession on Repeat
"Gina had to tell me. I’m sorry. I hardly have time for entertainment these days."
"That’s a shame, but it’s definitely no reason to apologize."
Aware he was looking at me closely, I shifted my attention to the turntable and turned the knobs to force the beat to flow into another song. "Thank you for the water. You don’t have to bring it all the way up here."
"It’s no problem."
We stood in silence as the music continued to play, the crowd moving as one.
"Have you taken a break?"
"No, I don’t usually—"
"You should take your breaks. Put some tracks on a loop and take a fifteen."
I did as he asked, putting several tracks on a loop before I followed him out the door. We took the back way, walking past the bar, and I shivered at the cool night air that washed over me as we stepped out into the alley.
"Do you need a jacket?"
"I’m okay. It was the change in temperature. It’s hot in there." I smoothed my hands down my tank top and shorts, rubbing the toe of my tennis shoe into the cracked cement.
He paused to rummage through his cargo pants, and I watched him dig out a pack of cigarettes. He stuck one into his mouth, tilting the box toward me. "Do you want one?"
"No, thanks. I haven’t smoked in several years."
"I don’t usually smoke, but the urge to buy a pack hit me a couple days ago." He took a drag of his cigarette, quiet as he exhaled and watched the streams of smoke spiral into the air. He leaned against the opposite brick wall. "So, tell me about yourself."
"There’s not much to tell."
"Nonsense, there has to be at least one thing. Your resume said you worked in Australia last. That’s a long way to come for a job. Were you there for a reason?"
I scratched the back of my neck. "I move a lot."
"I don’t blame you. I’ve always been a big fan of change." He inhaled on his cigarette again, exhaling through his nose. "I was born in New Zealand, so I definitely know about taking big risks."
"Was acting what brought you to America?"
"Yes, and work is what brought you here. Appears we have something else in common besides knowing what a loop is."
I chuckled, a little bitter. "I moved to Los Angeles because I met a guy. Lame, right?"
I studied his face carefully. Actors all swam in the same glittery, shallow pool. Odds were, he’d crossed paths withSullivan at a party, a premiere, or some glossy magazine spread where everyone pretended not to care.
"Actually, I’d call that brave." He flicked his cigarette onto the concrete, the ember flaring out as he faced me fully. "Takes a hell of a lot of guts to change your life for someone."
Something about the way he said it made me pause.
"I need to head back but take your full fifteen. You deserve to take breaks just like the rest of us." He headed inside.
I stayed out a beat longer, letting the cooler air settle the weird tightness in my chest.
By the time I reached the booth, the lights were up, the bar was buzzing, and the low hum of bass was already bleeding through the floor. I slipped on my headphones, hands moving by habit—knobs, sliders, track cues—letting the music drown out everything around me.
Tonight, I was DJ Fetish again. No feelings or questions. There was only the music.
With a sigh, I shut the front door, shrugging off my jacket and dropping it on the couch along with my purse and keys. I kicked off my shoes, not bothering to see where they ended up. I made my way through the living room without the assistance of the lights, trying to be quiet, but my attempt failed when I ran into the leg of the sofa, stubbing my toe.
"Shit!" I hopped on one leg, grabbing at my toes. "Damn it."
