Stalk Me

Fine.

So he may have been right about that. The hot pink glitter eye shadow and the thick fake drugstore eyelashes may have been a bit much, but it looked so cute!

And I didn’t look out of place at all. I fit right in. If anything, with his khaki shorts and Billabong T-shirt, he’s the one who looked out of place.

Tonight we're at a disco. A real European disco with raging techno music, crazy lights, and glow-in-the-dark splatter paint. Troy is the guest DJ and later the band is going to “surprise” the crowd with a three-song set.

I asked the concierge at our hotel where to buy club clothes. He said that wasn’t a typical request, so he called in a young bellman, who sent me to a store full of sparkly spandex and cheap club clothes.

I found a black and acid-green tutu that was love at first sight. The sales girl with multiple piercings and tattoos assured me it would look awesome under the lights. She paired it with a tough-looking black corset. The corset has leather straps criss-crossing the front, which makes it look like something a dominatrix might wear. She suggested platforms to go with it, but I had snagged a pair of YSL black platform ankle boots from the swag closet for the trip and knew they would be perfect.

I thought B would compliment me on my bargain shopping. I was shocked at how cheap the whole outfit was!

Troy whistled at me when I walked out of our room, which pissed Brooklyn off right away. And as moody as he’s been lately, I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be a good night.

It all started to go downhill when he decided he didn’t feel like dancing.

How can you not feel like dancing at a place like this?

I decided not to push the subject, but I was still going to have fun and dance. So I went and danced with, well, everyone, because that's what you do at a club. You dance. I mostly danced with the guys from the band, until they had to go get set up.

I’m dancing with a cute guy who has an adorable British accent when Brooklyn marches out on the dance floor, grabs my arm, and pulls me away.

I think something is wrong, so I go with him.

He pulls me over to the table where he's been pouting and says, “That’s it. We're leaving."

“Why? It’s early. The band hasn’t even played yet.”

"I'm not go

“Then come dance with me, and you can be the guy putting his hands all over me.”

"I hate this techno shit."

“Well, I love it, and I'm having fun. I've missed going dancing with . . ." I stop. I almost said Cush. I realize that I do miss dancing with Cush.

“With who? When did you go dancing?"

"I dance, B. I take classes. It's just what I do."

“Guys have their hands all over your ass in class?"

“Don’t be stupid. Just dance with me. You can't leave yet. It's just getting going. Troy will have this place in a frenzy pretty soon. It’ll be awesome.”

He gives me a mad face. “I’m not stupid, and since when do you know so much about Troy?"

“He used to DJ at a club. I went there to dance. It’s not a big deal.”

“Well I’ve had enough, and I’m leaving. You coming with me?"

“No, I'm not. We came to listen to the band. To have fun. Maybe you should try it."

"I'm out of here. When you're in places like this, when you dress like this, you kinda turn into a bitch."

He might as well have slapped me across the face. I recoil.

I take a deep breath, turn my back on him, and walk my ass back out on the dance floor.

Saturday, August 13th

Our room feels very empty.

2pm

I didn't get back to the hotel until nine this morning. Brooklyn didn’t speak to me when I walked in our room, so I shut the curtains, crawled into bed, and went to sleep.

When I woke up, he was gone.

Our room feels very empty.

Kinda like my heart.

I took a shower and cried the entire time. My emotions have ranged from really sad and hurt to really pissed off.

I don't understand how he can think I'm a bitch. I've been nice to everyone. I love him, but I'm not happy sitting on the sidelines. What's so wrong with wanting to experience life? I think he was being a dick for not dancing with me.

I get the tears out of my system, dry off, put on a fluffy white hotel robe, and order room service.

I'm sitting on the bed eating when Brooklyn walks through the door.

I don't say a word to him. I can play the I’m-not-talking-to-you game too, even though I really want to tell him what a jerk he was last night.

He sits on the bed gently.

“You look beautiful. That's how I like you. Hair wet, no makeup on.”

“I’m glad you like me with no makeup on, but if you love me, all of me, you have to like me when I wear makeup too. And I appreciate your sweetness now, but last night you were a dick."

This immediately pisses him off.

“Well, maybe if you weren't letting guys put their hands all over you, I wouldn't have been a dick."

“And maybe if you would have danced with me, your hands would have been the only ones on me."

"I don't like that music, and I don't like that kind of dancing,"

“Is it because you can't dance? I'd teach you. I mean it's not hard."

"I can dance fine. I just don't think it's fun. I like listening to Twisted Dreams, but that techno shit gives me a headache."

"You sound like an old man. Even Tommy likes to dance."

“See? See that tone you just used? That's your bitch coming out."

“No, B, that’s my pissed coming out! You upset me last night. You wouldn't dance with me. You got pissed I wanted to dance. What happened to all your let's experience life stuff? You didn't even try to experience it or have fun. You sat on the sidelines. I don't want to sit on the sidelines of life. I want to be in the game. I thought that's what you wanted too. And I'm not being a bitch. I was nice to you. Nice to everyone I met last night. I made some new friends. The guy I was dancing with when you left was really cool. I met his friends later, introduced them to the band, and they took us all out for breakfast at this great little family-owned diner where we had the most amazing breakfast. Homemade scones that melt in your mouth. You would have loved it. Damian thought they were really cool."

“Were they all guys?"

“Not that it matters, but no."

Brooklyn lets out a big sigh. He’s frustrated. Probably because he knows he’s wrong.

“You want to keep fighting about this?" he finally asks.

“Not really.”

He runs his hand through his long shaggy hair. “I think I'm just ready to go home. I live on the beach; it's what I love. All this big city stuff drives me nuts. I feel like I can't breathe."

"I like both. I had a great time on the beach, but cities can be fun too."

"I can see that,” he says quietly. "I'm sorry, okay. You're right. I was being a dick."

I smile and feel so much happier. I was really worried this might break us up. Not that we're actually going out, but whatever we are, we've been together.

“It’s okay. We've been together pretty much day and night for a couple months. And we’re traveling. That can be stressful sometimes."

Brooklyn says flatly, “Not when you carry good luggage."