"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, this is not good," Tom begins to panic, "I have to call Winnie and call my publicist and my manager and—"
"Calm down, Tom. You call Winnie and clear the air, I'll take care of the rest," Harrison insists.
Tom nods thankfully and dials Winnie's number on his phone. I stand there speechless the whole time and feel my throat closing up. I begin to walk out, just needing fresh air.
"Where are YOU going?" Harrison calls out.
I turn around just for a second and call out, "I don't know!"
I swivel back around and begin to dart through the crowds of people again. I hear Tom call out my name from behind me but I don't glance back. I just run and run until I'm outside. Taking deep breaths, I close my eyes and attempt to catch my breath. But it's pretty hard to.
I turn to the side and throw up in the grass.
"Miss, are you okay?" I hear someone ask.
But I ignore them and continue running. I run to the nearest park and sit on the bench, trying to piece my life together.
Dean. Xavier. Lina. Tom. Paparazzi photos. My career. It's all too much. I sit on the bench in the park for two hours, the wind rustling the leaves, children playing around, the sky was clear as can be. It was almost impossible for me to think with all of these happy surroundings. I cannot deal with anything else right at this moment.
"Cori? What are you doing here?" I snap my head instantly to the side to see Andrew.
"I-I-I, um, I can't do this," I say and quickly bolt, leaving him dumbfounded.
It's five in the evening, but I wound up at the nearest bar.
"I need shots. Shots and shots and more shots," I order the bartender, sliding over my credit card.
He notices my panicked expression, "rough day?"
"Understatement of the year," I scoff.
He nods and hands me back my credit card, "shots on the house."
I smile gratefully and drink shot after shot after shot after shot. I eventually lose count and somehow end up dancing on a table on the bar, surrounded by cheering guys. I cheer and take another shot as I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pull it out and can't make out who's name is on the screen and pick it up.
"Yellow? No, orange," I answer.
"Corinna, oh thank god. I've been calling you for hours! Where the hell are you?" Tom speaks frantically.
"Tommy, I'm sorry. Have I been a naughty girl?" I slur.
He pauses for a moment, "are you drunk?"
"No," I hiccup.
He sighs, "where are you? I'm coming to get you."
"I don't know," I frown, "there's a lot of guys here!"
I don't know why, but I find this hilarious. I start howling with laughter. Why was this funny?
"Just stay put, okay?" Tom groans and hangs up.
I throw my phone onto a nearby chair. The song changes into a rap song and I begin to mumble random lyrics and dance along.
"Take off your top!" someone shouts.
I bite my lip and obey. They all begin to holler as my lacy black bra begins to appear. The next few moments are hazy, but next thing I know, I'm making out with a random on the bar counter. The song changes to a song I don't like and I attempt to go and change it. As I try to jump down, I trip and instead fall flat onto my face.
I moan and a pair of muscular arms helps me up. I look up at the figure and I gasp.
"Where the hell is your shirt?" Tom asks impatiently.
I pout, "how did you find me?"
"Snapchat maps," he says firmly, "you know what? I don't have time for this."
He shrugs off his hoodie and orders me to put it on. After I do, he pulls me by the wrist to his car and I stumble after him. Tom opens the passenger side of his car and helps me in. I collapse into the comfortable seat and he comes in from the driver's side. He doesn't start he car yet.
"What were you thinking?" he asks, his eyes still forward.
My eyes begin to water, "you're not going to hit me, are you?"
He turns to me instantly concerned, "why would I do that?"
"Xavier used to do it when I was naughty," I say and I begin to cry as I relive the moments.
"Hey, hey, I'm sorry, don't cry," he sighs and places his hand on mine soothingly.
I smile back through my tears and Tom begins to drive, his hand still on mine.
And the next thing I know, I pass out.