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Old habits die hard, and just like genetic code, sulking under strobe lights was waiting for me with red velvet carpet and matching rope.

What the fuck am I doing here?

The deep bass pumps through my veins almost as strongly as the fourth glass of vodka soda I’m babysitting.

“It’s so nice to have you back out, man,” Trent, a frequent fuckboy I used to share my sections with, almost bursts my eardrum over the loud music.

Of course he’s happy to have me back, the section is on my tab, and he’s just finished his third bottle of gin for the evening.

Also paid for by yours truly.

I shiver at the thought of being anywhere behind Fia’s back. For a man who’s so destined to live this lifestyle, it sure does feel wrong.

“Yeah, appreciate it,” I say, standing to shove past him, needing some fresh air.

Filing down the steps, I brush past a few groups that I know say my name, but I can’t be bothered with small talk.

Eyes of women from every angle follow me, and unlike the last couple of months, I notice them. They feel awful on my skin, burning through it like acid, yet voices in my head tell me that I deserve the burn.

Steps away from the front door, I feel a hand slide into the crease of my elbow, the contact feeling like sticky tar compared to the softness I’ve grown accustomed to.

“Jett, oh my gosh.” A light, feminine voice forces me to turn and see who’s behind it.

Squinting, I try to make out the small blonde in front of me, but it’s no use. I’m sure I’ve been with her, sure if it were under any other circumstances, I’d remember her, but my vision is cloudy.

“Hi,” I mutter, doing my best to keep my body within six feet of hers.

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

Old me may have been embarrassed, but new me doesn’t give a fuck.

Or maybe I’m too numb to care.

“Afraid not.” I reply, and it comes out douchey as hell.

“Kim?” Her smile spreads wide and charming, even under the dark lights. The name still means nothing—no name means more than hers.

“Oh, right, good to see you again.”

Even trying to see if this lifestyle is my destiny, I can’t find a fucking thing here to entice me the way Fia does. I miss her so fucking much.

“It’s really nice to see you back.” Kim shimmies, and the sparkle in her eyes tells me it would be so easy to go against all my morals.

“Thanks,” I say simply, taking a step away from her.

“Leaving so soon?” she asks as I turn partially over my shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m not supposed to be here,” I answer, drifting past her to feel a gust of air to chill my pulse.

It doesn’t stop her, though. Outside of the club, Kim follows me a few steps, before I politely give her a stern stare. One that she’s certainly taking out of context.

“Listen, I have no doubt that you’re great,” I begin a spiel of rejection when a familiar man gets out of his car and into the line of the club.

In front of me, Kim shimmies, but I see a rage so red that the only thing I can even focus on is the fucking bastard who took everything from my everything.

With Fia on my mind, I blow past Kim and stomp against the concrete toward the man whose nose is still slightly bruised from my fist.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I yell, catching the attention of everyone in line.