Page 1 of Tuned To Break
PROLOGUE
STELLA
“Here you go, ladies, another round of shots, courtesy of those blokes on the other side of the bar.” Logan slides the glasses across the sticky surface of Grumpy’s bar with his usual shit-eating grin.
I stare at the amber liquid like it might bite me. “Are you freaking serious? We’ve had enough shots.”
“Yeah, but these are free,” he shrugs, wiping down a glass that’s probably dirtier than when he started. “And you’d be an idiot to turn down free drinks.” He lifts a brow, challenging me to argue.
He’s got a point, a drinks a drink. I snatch up the shot glass, knock it back, and immediately regret my life choices as the tequila burns its way down my throat. I slide the second glass across to my best friend, Megan, who’s hunched over her phone.
Glancing around the crowded bar, I mentally curse her for dragging me to Logan’s new masquerade theme night. The entire place looks like a fancy dress shop exploded, full of people wearing half-masks, full-face masks, delicate lace numbers mixed with chunky knitted monstrosities and ones that glow an obnoxious neon under the UV lights. The bar's packed, music’spumping, and everyone seems to be having the time of their lives.
Everyone except me.
“Megan, what are you doing?” I yell over the bass.
“Nothing,” she says, not even bothering to look up from her screen.
My frustration spikes. There’s only one person who could have her glued to her phone. “Are you seriously texting that dickhead ex?” The words come out slurred, evidence of the frankly stupid number of cocktails we’ve consumed tonight.
She finally looks up, guilt written all over her face.
Bingo.
Look, I hated being dragged out tonight. I had plans involving my couch, a Netflix binge, and absolutely zero human interaction. But seeing Megan like this—heartbroken and a mess—I know she needed me to come out with her. We both needed to let off some steam, and she desperately needed to stop thinking about the arsehole who shattered her heart into a million pieces.
“Megs, you’ve got to stop and let him go. He broke your heart.”
“I know, but I miss him,” she sighs, and my heart breaks for her.
I reach across and squeeze her hand. “Yeah, but he cheated on you. With your bloody cousin.”
She lets out another sigh that sounds like it came from her soul and tosses back her shot without flinching. “I know. It’s just hard.”
“I’m sorry, hun.” I genuinely hate seeing my best friend hurting. If I ever run into that douchebag, I’ll make sure he knows exactly what I think of him. Megan was the best thing that ever happened to him, and he threw it away for a quick fuck witha younger version of Megan. The man has no standards and even less brain cells.
She places her phone face down on the table and picks up her drink. “Thanks for being the shoulder I needed. And thanks for coming out with me tonight, even though I know you’d rather be home in your pyjamas.”
“Always,” I say, meaning it. “But let’s not make this a regular thing. You know this isn’t really my scene, right?”
“Yes but look at you—you’re fucking stunning tonight.” She gestures at my outfit with genuine admiration. “That green mask really brings out your hair. And those heels? Fuck if I was into girls, I’d do you.”
I laugh despite myself. Of course she’d say that. Megan’s been my ride-or-die since we were kids stealing lollies from the corner shop. We survived school together, uni together, and now we’re navigating our mid-twenties together. While I’m still working part-time at the coffee shop, completely clueless about what I want to do with my life, Megan’s pulling long shifts at the hospital as a nurse.
The alcohol is making everything feel soft around the edges. I’m not drunk exactly, but I’m definitely floating in that blissful tipsy space where confidence is free-flowing, and consequences are a tomorrow problem. I attempt to stand, but my legs have apparently forgotten how to coordinate with my brain.
“Whoa there.” I grip the table for support.
“You okay, babe?” Megan asks while looking at her phone again.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just need to pee before my bladder explodes.” I shake my head, trying to clear some of the floaty feeling. It doesn’t work.
“Want me to come with you?” She’s already moving to stand.
“Nope, I’ve got this. But give me your phone.” I hold out my hand, palm up.
“No way. I promise not to text him again.”
