Page 1 of Hard Rock Love
1
“Is that what you’re wearing?”
My big sister Everly scrutinized my outfit as I walked out of the bathroom.
I looked down at my jeans and oversized sweater.
“Yes…?” I said slowly. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”
Everly studied me before flashing a familiar indulgent smile.
“Nothing,” she said. “Wear whatever makes you comfortable. I just don’t want you feeling out of place.”
“It’s an album release party, not a fashion show,” I reminded her.
“Sometimes it’s the same thing,” she said. “All the guests like models and online influencers will take the chance to show off how cool and stylish they are.”
Cool and stylish. Two words that definitely didn’t apply to me.
I shrugged, the collar of my forest green sweater slipping down my shoulder. I adjusted it absentmindedly.
“I’m fine wearing what I usually wear,” I said. “I don’t want to spend the entire evening tugging down the hem of my short skirt or wobbling on heels that pinch my toes.”
I knelt down to dig out one of my nicer leather purses from my closet, the one concession I’d make. Bringing a backpack or messenger bag was too casual even for me.
“Who’s going to be there?” I called out from behind racks of clothes. “Aside from the band, I mean. Will I know anyone other than you?”
“Probably not,” Everly said, apologetic. “But you know Julian and Seth.”
“It’s their event,” I said. “They’ll be too busy to hang around with me.” I unearthed the purse I wanted from underneath a pile of old sneakers. “I’ll stick to the food and drink table.”
“You don’t have to come if you’re not feeling it.” My sister poked her head into my bedroom. “I just thought you might like to have fun for once.”
My idea of fun was a cup of tea and a good book.
Everly worried I was too much of a loner. I’d tried to be more social. At the start of my first year of college I’d joined study groups, made some friends, even gone to a party.
At the thought of parties, my stomach soured.
“I want to come,” I told her, only slightly lying. “Besides, it will be nice to see Seth again. It’s been years.” I crawled out of the closet, purse in hand. “How’s he doing, by the way?”
“Same old Seth,” she said. “Cracking lame jokes, partying too hard and making a nuisance of himself in general.”
“He always was a handful,” I said. “I’m ready if you’re ready.”
“Do you want to borrow my makeup?” she asked.
Her own face was beautifully done up with a subtle smoky eye and nude lips. I’d swiped on some mascara and lipgloss.
“I’m good,” I told her. “Let’s go. Don’t want to be late.”
We took a cab to the event downtown at one of those fancy convention center ballrooms. Through the windows I saw dozens of people already milling around with flutes of what I assumed was champagne in their hands. There was a bouncer at the front door with a clipboard. Everly gave him our names and we were let in easily.
The place was vast, with high ceilings and shiny floors. Waitstaff in all black walked around with platters of those Champagne flutes. People chatted in small groups, punctuated with laughter. With everyone wearing trendy clothes, looking perfectly polished and put together, I couldn’t tell the difference between models and those online influencers. I supposed to be popular on the internet you had to look like a model in the first place.
Everly didn’t give the event guests a second look. She thumbed a text and seconds later her boyfriend Julian appeared at her side, planting a kiss on her cheek.
Fiancé, I corrected myself mentally. Julian proposed months ago.
