"Another round!" I roared, slamming the glass down in the nearly empty bar. The nice level of intoxication I had in my system, made all my worries fade into the distant memory. The full concentration was on the glass that seemed to always be empty.

Ingrid, one of my backup dancers, throws her hands up in the air, "SHOTS!" She had recently ended her relationship with her boyfriend of eight years. Eight fucking years and he left her. Were there any real men left in this world? We were both willing participants of taking away the reality that was our lives.  "Soooo..." My words slurred, I tipped the freshly refilled glass in the air for a toast, "To men. Who enjoy sucking the life out of us!" We clinked our glasses together and took yet another shot, biting into the lime, feeling the burn as it trickled down the back of our throats.

"You're going to regret that in the morning..." Deena shouted behind us.

"Yeah... yeah..." I replied to her, handing her a glass. "I'll worry about it then."

Another day, another bar, another hangover is to be expected in the morning.

"Might as well." She expressed tipping the glass, sliding the warmth of tequila down her throat.

"Another?" Ingrid asked with excitement.

"Another!" We all chimed in.

            I watched the bartender take the slender clear bottle into her hand, pouring shots into the glass she had already done too many times to count tonight. She rested the bottle back on the shelf, revealing the solid black letting of the name. 901. I dropped my head, rubbing my hands over my face mumbling, "Of fucking course."

The afternoon sun didn't have a chance of making it through those thick burgundy curtains over the windows of the hotel room. Still wrapped in Justin's grip I wiggled my way to turn and look at him. Face to face with him watching his eyelids flutter. I could only imagine he was having a vivid dream. In his happy place, maybe, in the studio being a perfectionist and working on something over and over again. I wanted to know what he dreamed about, what his subconscious mind was thinking about.

My thumbs slowly slid over his flawless skin. A light scruff resided over his face covering his jawline down over his chin. It was utterly sexy on him. I leaned in, kissing the tip of his nose, resting my cheek against his, breathing in his intoxicating scent.

I don't think he would ever know, how much it meant to me that he would come to me when I needed someone. I may have been a bitch to him and made it appear as if I didn't want him around, but I did. Maybe I couldn't admit it out loud, but I wanted him around.

His lips pressed together and kissed the side of my face, causing my reaction to attach myself to his lips, sliding on the bed to climb on top of him. "Good Morning." he says with a half awake smile on his face.

"Good morning gorgeous." I said leaning my face down to his, placing my lips onto his nose again.

His hands went to my face, staring into my eyes. "You seem to be in a better mood today."

"It's always a better morning..." I planted a smirk across my face, "When I have a smoking hot guy half naked lying in my bed..."

"What could be any better?" he asked seductively, taking his lips slowly kissing the side of my neck, causing every eyelash attached to my eyelid to flutter uncontrollably. His hands trailed down to the small of my back, latching onto the hem of the silky tank top, grazing his fingers on the skin that rests underneath.

"You might have to show me." I winked at him.

"Malia?" Deena asked, placing her hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"God, I miss him." I mumbled, fidgeting with the pendent on the end of my necklace, focusing on nothing other than my own thoughts.

"Who?" They both asked in sync.

I looked up and saw them both staring at me as if I was in trouble. "What?" I asked confused at why they were staring at me.

Ingrid placing her hand on her hip, "Who are you missing?"

"It's not important." I said reaching for the once again empty glass. I nodded to the bartender who was gracious enough to get me another one.

"Oh it's important. Otherwise you wouldn't have said anything." Ingrid placed her hand over the glass as the bartender sat it down. "It's Justin isn't it?"

I felt my heart starting to palpitate faster. "Rumors." I managed to get out as I took the drink into my hands.

"You're lying to me." She leaned into closer, "I've seen the way he holds you when no one is watching. I've seen the way he closes his eyes when his arms are wrapped around you. The placement of his hand on the small of your back..."

I interrupted her, "This night isn't about me." I sat up straighter, "A round for everyone." I spun my pointer finger in the air to the bartender.

"Just because Aaron fucked up, made up some foolish lies... it shouldn't stop you from what you obviously have with Justin-"

I cut her off again, "Justin doesn't want me."

"Ok... whatever..." She said rolling her eyes. "Live in your own delusion over there."

I watched Justin walk up the steps of his private plane and the door closed behind him. I knew it was the closing of a chapter and very slowly, another one beginning. I wasn't sure what was in place for the future but the one thing I knew was I needed to find the pieces of myself again.

In the last month, I can't remember one conversation with Justin and me ending on a positive note. He was sweet and genuine and I was in simple terms, a bitch. I shouldn't have expected him to jump and run every time I needed him but he couldn't expect me to be whole again because I should be. Each day I think it's getting easier, but each night when I climb into an empty bed the reality sets in. I was alone.

I had never been this person that needed someone to get through the days. But being alone on the road, in a different city nearly every day took its toll on every bit of emotion I had left in me.

I can't help you if you won't help yourself.

That would be how we ended our last phone conversation. Justin's words were right. I needed to help myself, but it was easier said than done. When I started going out every night with Ingrid and Deena and the rest of the crew, he pointed out that alcohol wasn't the answer and I needed to focus on what was ahead not what was wrong with the past. Like I wasn't aware of that. Even with his theory being correct, I didn't know how to get to that point of helping myself before he could help me. Was I even worth fixing? He was clearly wasting his time and energy.

I pulled out my phone, typing several messages. It had been weeks since I had answered his phone calls or responded to his text messages. What do you say to someone that is trying to help you but you won't let them? 

I knew what I wanted. I knew that the idea of what I wanted could become reality. But I also knew the reality of what I wanted. I wanted the fairytale, fairytales don't come true. Even in Hollywood, there is always a reality to come back to.

I'm stupid.

He already knew that. I backspaced the letters off the screen.

I'm sorry.

Words meant nothing. I needed to prove to him I was sorry for my actions.

I need you.

I backspaced quickly, I didn't need anyone.

I typed each letter slow, looking at the words staring back at me, I pressed send before I could stop myself.

I miss you.

I placed the phone back on the bar and asked for another round.

The sun was setting in the background, inhaling the early evening air of Las Vegas. The three of us stagger to the curb, falling into a cab, headed back to our lonely hotel rooms that awaited us.

~*~*~

"What have I done?" I asked myself over and over again as I took the seat on the plane. I had done the unthinkable. My leg began to bounce nervously. I needed the plane to be lifting off the ground. I needed to be out of Las Vegas.

I threw my head back against the seat, what happens there, stays there... right?

One hour and 47 minutes earlier...

My eyes flutter open, cautiously avoiding the sun that was sure to be glaring through the windows. To my surprise, it was dark, the curtains had been drawn.

I jumped quickly out of the bed. The room was spinning beneath me as ran to the bathroom, hoping the effects of lasts night's adventures weren't going to get the best of me. I stood hovering over the sink, splashing water onto my face. My eyes looked like I had spent the entire night drinking; I guess they weren't lying to the world.

"That's enough Malia." I told myself. "Enough is enough. Get yourself together."

Looking down I noticed I was completely naked. Why would I have stripped completely naked? I turned to walk out of the bathroom. My eyes caught the attention on the floor.

Jeans crumbled, belt still intact.

Those were not my jeans. I had never seen those before.

A purple lace bra.

The bra was mine.

A vintage Lakers t-shirt.

Not my t-shirt.

My body started to shake; I cupped my hand over my mouth as I turn slowly to the oversized hotel bed. I wasn't alone.