Page 59 of Ex in the City
All eyes turn to the back of the room, to where Rebecca is pointing, and both Dylan and I are taken by surprise to see that she isn’t pointing towards us. There, at the back of the hall, is Rowan, strutting in with an exaggerated sense of cool. He’s dressed in black skinny jeans, a white shirt and a loosely tied black tie – a look that used to be Dylan’s signature style. His hair is deliberately dishevelled, and dark circles have been strategically applied beneath his eyes. In his hands, he carries a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and a cigarette, just to hammer the point home. He’s supposed to be Dylan.
Dylan maintains his composure, his gaze firmly fixed on Rowan, but I catch those subtle signs of tension in his body language – the faint flaring of his nostrils, the clenching of his jaw.
‘Go to the car,’ I tell him. ‘I’ll catch up with you. Let’s just get out of here.’
Dylan gives a silent nod. He walks past Rowan without exchanging a single word or even a glance. Rowan has such a smug expression on his face, a real shit-eating grin, because he’s clearly so proud of himself. His cocky exterior crumbles when I catch his eye and he notices my barely-there Cher outfit.
‘Nicole, what are you doing?’ Rowan demands. ‘You’re practically half-naked.’
I arch an eyebrow. Right, because that’s the conversation that’s needed right now.
‘What am I doing? What are you doing?’ I ask him. ‘Did you and Rebecca plan this together?’
‘Well, when were you going to tell me about you and Dylan?’ he replies angrily.
‘That photo was nothing but a set-up,’ I tell him honestly. ‘Why didn’t you just ask me about it?’
‘Why didn’t you tell me in the first place?’ he claps back.
I sigh, exasperated.
‘It’s none of your business, is it?’ I say. ‘Definitely not any more.’
‘I don’t understand how you can be so cold,’ he tells me and, yes, he genuinely feels like the wronged party right now.
I stare at him for a second. I can’t believe he’s serious – and I definitely can’t believe he would come here dressed up as a drunk Dylan.
‘And I can’t understand how you can be so cruel,’ I reply.
Without another word, I grab a bottle of champagne from the table next to me and make my exit from the room.
‘Wait, where are you going?’ he says, following me. ‘To him, huh?’
‘Yep, to him,’ I reply.
‘You’re making a fool of yourself,’ he warns me. ‘Look at you, look at your outfit, this isn’t you. You’re not yourself right now.’
I stop in my tracks and turn around, so that I can look in his eyes when I say this.
‘Rowan, I am nothing but myself right now,’ I tell him. ‘This is me, the real me, the one I’ve been keeping locked away for years. She’s been screaming for me to let her out and, guess what, here she fucking is.’
‘You buy a slutty outfit and you think you’re suddenly this strong, sassy girlboss?’ he replies.
Oof, if I wasn’t angry before, I would definitely be now.
‘Well, that’s where you’re wrong, fella, because I already owned this slutty outfit,’ I reply with a laugh. ‘This is me. The genie is well and truly out of the bottle now. So, enjoy.’
I know, it’s not very mature of me, but I use my free hand to give Rowan the finger before I storm out. I’m relieved when I realise he isn’t following me.
I pop the cork on the champagne before I hop in Dylan’s car, slumping down in the passenger seat, before taking a big swig from the bottle.
‘I didn’t realise suburbia was so fun,’ he says sarcastically. ‘Where to, miss?’
‘Let’s go back to yours,’ I tell him. ‘And let’s burn this entire village to the ground.’
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‘Okay, here we go,’ I say, swigging from my champagne bottle before returning it to the bedside table. ‘Let’s do this.’
