All the Love in the Universe

Ten. Not Enough Tequila-Marie

"Enough tequila and a guy who knows his way around the female anatomy and you'll forget the name Alec."

Emily was a wildcard. She was a bikini model and a dramatic actress who did standup on the side. You never knew what you were going to get during a night in her company. Sometimes, she was listless and reserved; others, like tonight, she ruled the town.

Tonight, she was blazing with revenge against some guy who'd blown her off. She also happened to despise Alec. The one time they'd met, he'd made a rough comment about her tattoo-laden arms.

"A bit much," he'd remarked absentmindedly.

They didn't hit it off.

Emily and I were both in New York on press legs of our respective tours. She'd been on my guest list that night and met me after my show for a night in the Village. When she caught my eyes tearing up after a careless text by Alec, she took up arms.

Determined to make all humans of the male persuasion pay for their various and sundry crimes, she led the charge on a bar crawl. Although we'd gathered a dozen hangers-on throughout the pizza and liquor fueled evening, by closing time, we were the last two girls standing.

We found ourselves sitting on a curb outside a blaring nightclub, swaying drunk, trying decide how to proceed.

"Mister Eyebrows is kinda hot," she tried, calling back to a broad-shouldered bouncer we'd met at the previous club.

"Too cavemany."

"What about Little Guy?" she slurred.

"Too little!"

"My mom always told me good things come in little packages. Or wait. Was that little things come in little packages? I forget."

"Six of one...."

"Hey," she lit up, ready with an idea. "Beanbag's in town! I can't believe I forgot! I owe him a text. C'mon."

Beanbag was a granola busker from LA with long unkempt hair and hemp brackets adorning his ankles and wrists. He had kind eyes and a soft voice.

"My name's not really Beanbag," he told me when we were alone on my hotel bed. Emily had invited him to meet us downstairs, then promptly vanished as soon as she introduced us. I didn't mind. He had a sweet spirit and an easy demeanor that put my inner introvert on vacation. "It's Jorge."

"I like that," I mused. "Jorge."

After idly watching the Flintstones on cable, we settled on my bed and chatted. He was a decent conversationalist. He'd traveled the world as a hitchhiker and played guitar in a few notable bands. He listened as I talked about the stress of being in the public eye.

He let me fuss about Alec.

"That's a lot," he weighed in after I'd droned on for a half hour. "Your heart is really connected to him. I can't say I've ever allowed myself to be that drawn to anyone. I sort of try to give everyone I meet the same grade of respect. Do you feel that respect from me?"

"Sure."

"Good. I like you, Marie. I know it'll work out with Alec. The stars have a way of coming together when two people care that much."

"Thanks." I bowed my head, assuming he'd take the lull to exit.

Instead, he tilted my chin up with his finger and kissed me eagerly on the lips. I drew back, startled, and he apologized.

"I didn't mean to freak you out," he said, standing. "I'd better go now."

"Wait." I felt guilty. He was such wonderful company. I didn't want to end our encounter on a sour note. "It's okay. Just hang out a little longer."

He sat back down next to me and kissed me again, harder. I let him. It was easier than correcting the misunderstanding. He pushed me down on the mattress and began sucking on my neck and collarbone. I played with his necklaces to pass the time.

Before he could slide my underwear off, I crabwalked backwards to extricate myself out from under him.

"Everything cool?" he wondered.

"Yeah. Cool. I just—I need to get some sleep. Early day tomorrow."

"Yeah."

He was disappointed, but excused himself with a pleasant nod and humble smile.

As soon as he was out of the room, my chest began heaving with shocking sobs. I darted to the bathroom and jumped in the shower, scraping my skin till it was raw. I brushed my teeth till they bled in the sink.

"Having a good time with Beanbag?" my phone pinged. Emily. "Alec who? lol"

I ignored the text and immersed myself between the covers, glowering. I picked my phone up and opened my chat log with Alec. He hadn't even read my last messages from hours ago. We were in a spat as his habitual response to emotion was to shut down completely and focus on the band. I knew they'd be smoking and drinking, horsing around.

Forgetting I even existed.

Just as I closed my eyes in a desperate attempt to nod off, his answer came.

"Marie. You always want to start this when I'm busy. I can't be in my feelings right now. I HAVE A JOB. Do whatever you got to do to be happy. I'm giving John my phone."

I dialed Henri, my insides too numb to keep crying. I didn't even feel the pain anymore. I just wanted someone to validate my existence, to make me realize I had a presence on this earth.

I was a person.

"Hey, baby," he picked up on the second ring. "What'd he do now?"