Chapter Seven
Neil knew that he was going to hate Eden’s Twilight the moment he saw it. It was the type of place he avoided like the plague in LA. Loud, dark, smoky, crowded. Between the look of the place and the clothes Neil was wearing, he was fairly sure this was what the final circle of hell was like. He fidgeted with the high collar of the navy blue shirt he was wearing. But taking a look at the crowd lined up outside the door, he was glad he’d finally put on the proffered outfit. He wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes here in what he was wearing before. Or, at least, most people wouldn’t have.
Looking over at the clubgoers, he got the feeling that Cat might hang out here, and probably Jean too, since it was his home turf as a DJ. Laila could probably be dragged out as well, and Jeremy too if Jean was going, even though he was more of a “cold beer on the beach” type of guy. But Neil avoided them at all costs.
He had bad memories of places like this. Neil had gotten shot outside a club once. His mother had been trying to meet with one of her contacts and had dragged him along, head kept down, hoodie up, hiding his teenage face, not that anyone would stop his mother with the expression she kept on around strangers. And around him, most of the time.
It had been a stupid plan from the beginning though. Out in the open like that. Not to mention, they hadn’t quite figured out yet that as much money as his mom could offer, she could never buy loyalty. And any contacts she had from her family were years old, so some of them just fell through, or refused to meet with them.
It should have been a bad sign that this one had agreed to provide them with their identification so easily. But they’d been desperate and scared, and his mother had decided to go, hand firmly clenched in his shirt, dragging him through the crowd.
It had been a set up. Because of course it was. His father’s men had them surrounded before they made it twenty feet, and they’d had to run, pushing through bodies left and right, getting jostled as they tried to escape. They’d made it to the back alleyway and were almost off when their pursuers caught up. There was a volley of shots and Neil felt everything go into slow motion. His mother was already around the corner, hauling him bodily with her, but he didn’t quite make it in time to avoid catching a bullet in the back.
The next few hours were a blur of engines revving, frantic pursuit, and eventually, once they were relatively safe, pulling over into a highway rest stop. Then he was swallowing down gin like water and clenching his jaw so tight he thought it would explode as his mother worked the bullet out of his flesh, tweezers moving in and out of his muscle before the needle and floss took its place.
He nearly jumped when Nicky waved a hand a bit too close to his face, bringing him back to the present.
“Hello? Earth to Neil?”
Neil blinked, averting his eyes. “Yeah. Sorry.” He saw that the rest of them were waiting on the sidewalk, staring back at him. “I’m fine.”
Nicky smiled hesitantly. “Okay, let me know if you need anything though. Let’s get you something to drink.” As he walked towards the group, Neil heard him turn quizzically to Aaron and Andrew, asking quietly in German, “Did you guys see that, or am I reading too much into things?”
Aaron flashed a look at Neil. “No. That was weird,” he responded, in the same language.
Andrew just kept walking. “Leave it,” he barked, in his odd, accented German.
Nicky shrugged, addressing Neil’s questioning look in English. “Sorry, parking details. I forget what language I’m speaking sometimes.”
Neil nodded, not buying it for a second.
As soon as they stepped in the doors, Aaron nodding in the direction of the bouncer, who gave him a nod back, Neil felt his chest tighten. But he promised Nicky he’d come, and he didn’t want to come across as even weirder in front of his new colleagues.
So he took a deep breath, and focused on Andrew’s back in front of him, as he pushed his way through the crowd, unflinching against the occasional press of drunken strangers.
By the time they got settled at their spot, a huge tray of drinks unloaded on the tabletop, Neil was fighting back a panic attack.
Nicky shot him an odd look, frowning despite the drink in his hand. “Are you doing okay?”
Neil blinked, trying to focus through the noise and the haze of his memories. “Yeah. Sorry, I’m fine.”
He thought he heard Andrew snort from across the table but it was hard to hear anything with the bass vibrating through the room like a thunder clap.
Nicky shrugged. “Okay, suit yourself. Let me know if you need to head out for some air or anything.”
Neil nodded, clutching at his soda, knowing that there was no way he was going to do that. He’d been invited here as a guest. Plus, he was pretty sure that they were buying his drinks, alcoholic or not, so it felt rude to try and sneak out right off the bat.
Aaron turned, peering down his nose at Neil’s glass. “Why aren’t you drinking?”
Nicky rolled his eyes, looking annoyed but not surprised. “Jesus Aaron, let him be. Not everyone has to get piss drunk every night to have fun.”
Aaron raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, because he looks like he’s the type to have lots of fun. Plus, weren’t you the one saying something about passing out in the gutter earlier?”
Nicky shrugged. “It was a suggestion, not an order. I don’t speak for y’all. But Neil, you should have at least one shot with us. You’ll be sober in like, twenty minutes.”
Neil hunched his shoulders slightly and choked back more of his Sprite. He hated soda, but Nicky had been pretty insistent on getting him something to drink. He had a better tolerance for alcohol than he had for sugar anyways, and maybe if he joined them he wouldn’t have to finish his soda.
Andrew was casting a look Nicky’s way that spoke of violence, and he was opening his mouth to say something when Neil nodded.
“Fine. Just one.”
Nicky pumped his fist. “Hell yeah, man! On three.”
As Nicky counted down, Neil took a deep breath. He knew he was a bit of a people pleaser sometimes. When someone got in his way or pulled some major bullshit, he was more than willing to rip them a new one, but with people like Nicky, people who were just nice, he didn’t really know how else to respond. He hadn’t exactly been raised in a normal, healthy social environment. So his usual move was just to go along with whatever they asked of him. Laila had taken a few months to figure out that he had way more opinions than he let on, but once she did, she never stopped demanding to know what he really thought about things. There was a point when he would go out to eat wherever they suggested, tell them that whatever their plans were sounded good to him, respond that every movie they watched was good. Laila had to coax every opinion out of him. Once she found out that Mexican food was his favorite, they got tacos at least every week. When he mentioned his favorite color was grey, she bought him a sweater in that color the next day. She always made sure to ask him his real opinion on the latest blockbuster or shitty indie film they watched, and she was slowly learning and absorbing the preferences he shared with her like they were gospel.
But Nicky was more of an acquaintance, or at least a new friend, so he didn’t really feel that level of comfort around him yet. So he downed his shot, wincing slightly and the familiar burn, catching Andrew’s eye as he put down his glass. His expression looked empty, but there was a wrinkle by the edge of his downturned mouth that suggested some kind of displeasure. Neil was about to turn away, the taste of liquor still lingering in his mouth and his memory, when a hand came down hard on his shoulder. He stood up quickly, his stool knocking backwards. In one swift motion, he had the person’s arm in a quick hold, wrist twisted just shy of real injury.
“What the fuck?” Neil felt far away. He tensed to run, someone had to have finally found him. Who was it? He couldn’t tell. There was yelling by his ear.
The alcohol was heavy in his throat. He felt his bullet scar almost pulse along with the music, the crush of bodies around him pushing his breath rapidly towards hyperventilation.
“Neil.”
He blinked, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Neil. Look at me.”
He opened his eyes. Andrew was standing in front of him, hand hovering centimeters above his, which was clenched firmly around Nicky’s wrist. He looked up to see Nicky’s pained expression, and he dropped his arm, panicked.
“Oh god. I’m-” His breath was short. “I’m sorry.”
“Neil-” Nicky started, reaching out.
Neil flinched. “I-I have to go.”
Turning on his heel, he bolted for the exit, pushing through the drunken, dancing masses and into the cool night air. He shut his eyes, trying to slow his pulse, and dug through the pockets of his too tight pants for his phone.
He dialed almost on instinct, the number tucked safely in his memory. He didn’t trust important contacts to always be on his phone. He’d seen too many people accidentally delete a number or lose a phone to risk that.
Laila picked up after the first ring. “Hey babe, what’s up?”
His breathing was still labored, but he choked out, “Can you come pick me up?”
Her voice turned hard. “Where are you?”
He told her the club name and the street, and, after hanging up with her reassurances of a hastily arrival, sat down on the curb by the back alley and put his head between his knees. He clasped his hands behind his neck and focused on breathing.
He’d almost managed to calm himself down when he saw two black boots stop right in front of him. He looked up to see Andrew, and, in his semi-hysteria, almost laughed. Nicky was right. He did dress like a bouncer. The all-black ensemble, paired with a waistcoat that Neil knew from his experience with Jeremy probably cost more than Neil’s phone, made him cut a striking figure, in spite of the flashier patrons inside the club and lined up outside.
Neil looked away first, staring down at the cement. He broke the silence. “Is Nicky alright?”
Andrew pulled a pack of cigarettes out from his right pocket, searching the other for what Neil could only assume was a lighter. After watching him struggle for a few more seconds, Neil pulled his out of his back pocket and tossed it to him.
“Here.”
Andrew looked down at him but didn’t ask, lighting up in silence. It wasn’t until he’d taken a few drags that he turned back to Neil.
“He’s fine. Slightly upset.”
Neil closed his eyes, sighing. “Yeah, I can imagine. I tend to have that effect on people.”
Andrew looked up at the cloud-cover, midnight sky. “Not you. He’s upset he made you uncomfortable.”
Neil frowned, confused. “I’m fine.”
Andrew raised an eyebrow.
Neil shook his head. “Or I will be.”
Andrew shrugged. “Whatever you say.”
Neil sighed. “It’s not about him anyways.”
Andrew didn’t ask for any explanation, so they sat in silence a while longer. Andrew smoked like a chimney while Neil sat below him, trying and probably failing to subtly inhale the scent.
It wasn’t too long until Laila pulled up in her Honda, tires screeching. She didn’t even seem to stop the car before she leapt out, making a beeline for Neil.
She placed her hands carefully on either side of his face. “Are you okay?”
Neil nodded.
She frowned. “I’m gonna need some verbal confirmation there.”
He left out a deep breath. “Yes. I’m fine.”
She sniffed slightly. “Have you been drinking?”
Neil looked off to the side, avoiding her gaze.
She just sounded sad when she sighed, “Oh Neil.”
He shook his head. “I’m fine. It’s fine.”
“How many times do I have to tell you Neil, if you don’t want to do it, don’t do it. It doesn’t matter what other people want, or expect of you. Fuck them. I know you hate drinking. You know you hate drinking. Not everyone is going to know that, and you have to stand up for yourself when there’s no one around to hold you accountable, okay?”
He nodded, and she visibly relaxed. “Okay. How are you really?”
Neil slumped forwards, resting his forehead on her shoulder as she rubbed his back. “Not great.”
She huffed a laugh on the back of his neck. “Yeah, that tracks. Let’s get you home. Go hop in the car, you can stay in the guest room tonight.”
He nodded, exhausted, and hauled himself to his feet. He turned to see Andrew, still standing on the sidewalk. He gave him a nod, and headed for the car.
Once he buckled himself in, head leaning against the window, he saw that Laila hadn’t joined him. She seemed to be exchanging some words with Andrew, who was still standing on the sidewalk, gazing passively back at her. He went to open the door and step in, but Laila was already turning away, marching back to the car.
When she got in, he turned in his seat to face her. “What was that about?”
She put on her seatbelt, adjusting the seat. “Nothing.”
He frowned. “Laila.”
She sighed. “Just told him not to pull that shit again.”
He felt his chest seize. “It wasn’t his fault, please tell me you didn’t go full, raging Mama Bear on him.”
She threw him a wry look, shifting into drive and pulling out of the lot. “No. But if anything like this ever happens again, I will not hold be holding back.”
Neil let a huff of air out through his nose. “I don’t doubt it.”
She turned the dial on the dash to the spa channel, letting the quiet instrumentals wash over them. Neil could just see Andrew shrinking in distance through his rearview mirror. Once Andrew had disappeared behind them, the combination of quiet music and Laila’s soft humming worked quickly in lulling Neil to sleep, and he drifted off with the smell of smoke still clinging to him like perfume.