Waiting for So Long — Plan B

“Hi.”
“Hi.”
I smiled — lightly, almost automatically.
And yet something inside me pricked, thin as a needle under the skin. Not painful. Noted. I brushed it off — not now.
The important asses went off for cocktails, leaving behind the smell of ice, lime, and that male “we’ll be right back.”
And at that exact moment, some chicks unexpectedly sat down with us — too confidently, too on time.
— Um… do you think this is okay?
I opened the message.
Put on a fake little smile — so polite it made me slightly sick myself. Like: excuse me, everything’s under control.
— I don’t know. We’ll keep an eye on them.
— Ok.
I smiled again.
How sweet. Now Cody is with Aaron, and they have such a love that I literally bloom from the inside.
Truly.
How nice it is to see your loved ones happy.
— Yeah, sure, tell us you’re happy for them. We all know that you and Nate are different, — Hades drawled lazily.
I blushed and lowered my eyes.
I felt terribly ashamed — not even of the thought itself, but of how fast it flashed by, small, rotten, almost unnoticeable.
That very one: yes, they’re good… but with me — it’s different.
I do what I can. Honestly.
I try not to compare. I try to be above these petty little thoughts, not feed them, not give them weight. I almost manage.
He cupped his hands like a megaphone:
— Let’s give a round of applause for the nun.
I kicked him.
— Asshole.
The chicks are flirting full-on — too close, laughing too loudly, too demonstratively.
I’m already genuinely uncomfortable, that feeling at the back of the head: like nothing’s really wrong, but inside something tightens.
Well, fuck it.
The shots arrived.
Everyone knows the routine: napkin, report — and let’s go.
The table is sticky, as it should be. The glass is cold. The lemon smells sharp, almost angry.
The music is screaming like mad — not background, but an attack.
Nate yells back, completely off-beat, and it makes me laugh uncontrollably.
He’s genuinely trying, but I just can’t stop laughing.
Cody and Aaron are dancing together.
Literally together.
Without embarrassment, without looking around — like kids who are allowed everything.
I watch them and feel this quiet warmth: there, alive, real.
Jonathan is on his phone.
Damn.
I winked at Nate — short, precise, without words.
He understood instantly.
Nate snatches the phone from Jonathan — sharply, but without anger, like an older brother who has the right.
Jonathan looks up at him. His face serious, almost stone-like:
— Seriously? Are we going to act like children? I’ve got Hong Kong…
I cut him off with a shout and a whistle — loud, brazen, no room for discussion.
The whistle came out so strong that even I surprised myself.
They cut the music.
That sweet second hung in the room — when it’s not yet clear whether it’s a scandal or a celebration.
Nate, unhurried, gallantly offered me his hand.
I climbed onto the table.
— Thank you, sir.
— You’re welcome, milady.
I straightened up, swept my gaze over the room.
— So, excuse me… — I began solemnly. — I’d like to ask your opinion.
Pause.
The right one.
Tasty.
— I have a friend here… — I turned and nodded toward Jonathan, — …who’s handling business with Hong Kong.
The crowd roared.
I narrowed my eyes, pretending to seriously think:
— And so I’m wondering… maybe we should drag him through the room?
Not everyone, but some reacted immediately — and that was enough.
— Then let’s do this, — I raised my hand. — Whoever drags Jonathan, — I pointed at him, — gets drinks on me.
That did it.
The crowd instantly swept Jonathan up.
Hands, laughter, shouts, joyful chaos.
Jonathan lost it.
Completely.
And that made it even funnier.
I cleared my throat, putting on a businesslike tone:
— And one more thing… if any of you girls manage to lure him into bed — I’ll write a check.
The crowd exploded with laughter.
Whistles. Applause. “Ooooh.”
We quickly formed a circle.
Too quickly.
— Three…
— Two…
— One…
I look around — damn, I have to make it.
The circle has already gone halfway around, and soon they’ll put Jonathan back on his feet, and he will definitely tell me everything he thinks.
I have to win.
I drink shot after shot.
My throat burns.
My eyes water.
But Nate pulls ahead.
He’s already had three, and I’ve got one and a half.
— Damn.
— Damn, — I whisper, laughing and gasping.
Cody is yelling from somewhere off to the side:
— She won six shots in a row!
— Oh fuuuuck!
I laugh so hard I almost fall off the table — and realize the evening has completely spun out of control.
And it’s wonderful.
They put Jonathan back in place.
Literally.
He’s angry, red, eyes blazing — and he’s coming straight at me.
I understand everything in a split second.
I turn around — and run.
Laughter tears out of my chest, my legs carry me on their own, heels rattling like a machine gun.
I’m yelling as I run, without looking back:
— I’ll give a hundred if you block his way!
And — damn it — it works perfectly.
Someone pretends to trip.
Someone spreads their arms wide.
Someone starts arguing with him about absolutely nothing.
The corridor turns into an obstacle course.
I burst into a side hallway and slam my shoulder into the wall.
Barely breathing.
My heart pounding somewhere in my throat.
My hands shaking.
The hotel is luxurious.
Real.
The kind where carpets muffle footsteps and the light is soft, as if everything here has already seen too much and learned not to interfere.
It’s great that we all broke free.
Really great.
After all, Vienna is damn beautiful.
And then I notice one of the chicks.
She can barely stand on her feet.
Oh shit.
I step closer, automatically, without thinking.
— Hey… are you okay?
She looks at me hazily, honestly, without any game:
— Honestly… not really.
Shit.
That strange tension washes over me — these days, it’s not always safe — even with a woman.
And that thought makes it unpleasant and cold inside, despite the alcohol and the adrenaline.
Alright.
I hope Nate finds me soon.
I deliberately say the floor and the room number to the doorman — loudly, clearly.
So it’s heard. So it’s registered.
We walk to the elevator, then down the corridor.
The chick is hanging off my shoulder — heavy, like responsibility.
I can barely stand myself already, the shots are taking their toll, the floor sways softly, like it’s breathing.
Key card.
Click.
We enter the room.
She went to the bathroom.
I stayed standing in the middle of the room, looking like a virgin who wasn’t warned about what was about to happen.
Oh my God…
Please, let her be okay.
The water didn’t run for long.
She came out — and you could tell: it got easier. Her face cleared, her gaze pulled together.
— Oh, great, you’re better, — I exhaled. — Then I’ll…
And at that moment she blocked my way.
I narrowed my eyes — and sobered up instantly.
Just like that. Click.
The alcohol disappeared, my body pulled together, my breathing became even and low.
I didn’t plan to do this.
But if I have to — I’ll twist her arms and drag her along the floor.
I have enough strength. I know it. I feel it in my shoulders and my back.
— You’d better step aside, — I said calmly. No threat. Just a statement.

I Feel Like Im Drowning - Two Feet

But she had other plans.
She opened her robe.
— Holy Mother of God… — Hades hissed somewhere inside.
I automatically covered his eyes with my palm — a stupid, almost childish gesture, but so necessary.
In reality, I said out loud, fast, uneven:
— Um… yeah. You’re very beautiful. Really. Great body.
She stepped closer.
Too close, and her finger started sliding over my chest, smoothly going lower.
I watched very closely.
Breathing. Coordination. Gaze.
No signs of danger.
But arousal. On her face.
Fuck, so this is how men feel.
She kept going.
— You’d better step aside.
My voice even. Calm.
Not a request — a boundary.
She dropped the robe completely.
Something twitched.
Interest.
Thin, dangerous, almost intellectual:
— But you… — Hades
Fuck off — I shoved him away.
— Turn around.
She obeyed.
I started circling her slowly, smoothly, like a cat, stepping softly on padded paws, and slipped my dress off.
Her eyes lit up.
— Wow.
— Yeah… you’re not bad either, — I lightly scratched her thigh with my nail.
She moaned.
Hm.
Everything in me woke up.
What an interesting toy.
I circled her like a hunter.
— What’s your name?
— Phoebe.
— Mm. A great name.
I ran my finger again.
— What shall we do?
Darkness immediately threw up several options.
Imagination kicked into high gear.
She moaned — and at that moment Nate burst in.
I had deliberately pressed the latch tongue down so the door wouldn’t shut.
And there he was, coming to save me.
And instead — a picture of a different scale.
Me and her, both in lingerie.
Both hot and overheated.
I raised an eyebrow.
Nate froze at first.
Then he suddenly came alive and licked his lips.
I yanked the dress over myself.
— Don’t even hope.
And dragged him out of the room.
Nate pleaded.
— Oooh, that was so close.
I laughed.
— No, Nate. That’s not happening.