Chapter 32 - Drunken Words = Sober Thoughts

A/N Waring: This chapter contains mature themes & themes of substance abuse.

Sadé's POV:

— Saturday, October 8th

Bama and I agreed that we would spend today and tomorrow together until I had to leave for my flight to Milan since this could possibly be the last time I see her for the next few months due to the upcoming holidays and our busy schedules. I had just gotten out of the shower and decided to wash my hair since I wanted my curls back for the time being. While my hair was drying I was doing my own makeup and dancing in the mirror to some Doja Cat. Bama was also here in my hotel room, getting ready with me. We were pregaming, listening to the music, taking a few shots here & there, and chatting it up with each other before the basketball game we were going to tonight. It was going to be The LA Lakers VS The Huston Rockets. I got dressed in these black latex pants that were also connected with heeled boots so it was a 2-in-1 situation, a black lacy bralette paired over with a light brown cropped turtle neck, my bracelets, gold hoop earrings, and a tiny denim purse. Just enough to keep all the important items with me.

"You ready to go, girl? I'm sure Landon is bored out of his mind waiting for us in the car."

"Yea! Let's just take one last pregame shot." She yelled from the other side of the room, pouring us both up a shot of Hennessy.

We clinked glasses, tilting our heads back as the liquor burned our throats. We both made a funny face because we didn't have a chaser with us right now.

"Ew. I thought this was supposed to taste good? How do people drink this religiously?" I rhetorically asked, wondering why do I torture myself like this.

"That's something that is definitely beyond me." Bama replied, grabbing her sun glasses and purse as we left the room.

Of course, my security were joining too. They'd be riding in a separate car while Bama and I would be driving with her brother, Landon in his car. I mentally rolled my eyes. I'm so tired of having them follow me everywhere. It's not that I don't appreciate them because I do, but I dang. Can a girl just hang out with her friends in peace? I don't even know why Jordyn was so adamant about this. It was never a problem before. I mean, I guess I get it, but I think I just don't like them... Period. I know they have a job to do, but they are so boring. I try to make conversation, and they just say the bare minimum. Or I'll try to get to know them better since they are going to be around me a majority of the time, but all they do is talk about their work experience. Like live a little, god.

— At The Basketball Game

We had all gotten out of the car, being escorted into the building. Because we're in LA, the paparazzi were on our tails like white on rice. They were quick with the cameras, taking pictures at all different angles, flashes going off like crazy.

"Sadé Myers!"

"Sadé!"

"Can you look this way for a quick picture?"

"Are you seeing anyone new?"

"Have you moved on?"

"Sadé, over here!"

"You look gorgeous!"

"What can we expect from you next?"

I didn't bother answering any questions, but I did flirt with the camera a bit to give the people a little something something. I don't hate the paparazzi. I never have despite some of them being not so great, but the ones that were nice to me I absolutely adored. We eventually made it inside and onto the court side seats where we watched the game. It was nice. We all cheered on the Lakers, ate nachos, smack talking each other, took turns making bets on the players, and all around had fun time. The Lakers ended up in victory with a score of 135 to 133. It was really close, but LeBron James had ended up scoring the team 2 points within the last few seconds, breaking the tie.

"Aye, you guys want to go to this club? My girl, Charlie, just hit me up saying she bought a section." Landon asked us on our way out of the stadium.

Bama and I looked at each other suggestively before answering in unison:

"Okay!"

"Bet." He replied starting the engine as we made our way to the club.

— At The Club

Once again we were met with paparazzi, but it was more than before. I'm assuming because there were other influencers and celebrities here at the club tonight as well. It was a Saturday night after all.

We entered the section that Charlie had gotten. She was there along with some of her friends, her sister, and a few other folks. I greeted her along with everyone else.

"Hey, Sadé. Long time no see." Charlie pulled me in for a warm hug.

"Hey, Char. I know, I haven't seen you in forever." I replied.

We had made some small talk before she went back to her boyfriend. I went to the bar to grab something to sip on for the night. I ordered a rum & coke when one of my favorite songs to dance to came on. As if it was second nature, I grabbed Bama's hand, pulling her with me onto the dance floor so that we can dance. We had made friends with some other girls and we eventually were a group of 5, dancing on each other, having the time of our lives. Some bottle girls had come to our section, dropping off bottles of vodka, Hennessy, 1942, and champagne. I grabbed one of the bottles of champagne, opening it as it fizzed all over the place. I took a drink from the bottle before passing it around to the other girls. We all took turns having sips and pouring shots of all the types of liquor into each other's mouths as the night went on. Every minute that passed I continued to get drunker and drunker.

I once again, found myself on top of a table dancing. It's almost as if it's a must for me whenever I get liquor inside of me. It's like a go-to move I suppose. The girls were throwing ones on me as if we were all strippers or something. I eventually stepped down, throwing ones on one of the other girls that had gotten on top. Call us what you want, but when it's me and Bama, we gon' have a good time! No matter the situation! And that's exactly what we did. A few hours later, almost 1 in the AM, Landon pulled us out the club after we had put up a fight. It wasn't much of a fight though considering the fact that we could barely stand up on our own.

Me, Landon, Charlie, and Bama all piled in the car as we drove back to Alabama's house. Landon was the only sober one so he was the designated driver. Once we all arrived at the house, I had dismissed security for the night and told them to go back to the hotel with Jordyn to get some rest over the weekend.

I stumbled through the door, kicking my heels off on the way. Bama had given me one of her lounge sets to sleep in for the night, before we set up the couch in a fort using blankets, pillows, string lights, and anything else we could find. We were still extremely drunk so this behavior wasn't out of the ordinary for us in this state of mind. We grabbed a bunch of snacks, water, pop, and ordered some food before getting settled.

We were in the middle of stuffing our faces and watching Netflix, when Bama gave me a side eye.

"What?" I subconsciously asked her.

"You good?" She looked at me puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

"Like are you okay? You're making that "I'm drunk and I have something on my mind" face that you do when you're drunk... and something on your mind." She laughed.

"Whatttt?" I slurred, trying to play it cool.

I guess I was subconsciously making a face and zoning out because I didn't even notice what she was talking about until she told me. Apparently, when I'm drunk I also can't even hold water and it always finds a way to come back and bite me in the butt. The last time that happened, I somehow told Marshall how fine I thought he was despite him intimidating me when I first met him. So I knew exactly what face she was talking about immediately.

"I know you have a secretttt. What is it?" She drunkenly sang.

"Okay, but you have to promise not to tell anyone."

"Promise."

"Okay, okay."

We both squealed like some little school girls, sharing gossip.

"I like Marshall." I shyly told her as if it was a crime.

"Sae..." She looked at me with a blank stare, "I know that already." She said with slight disappointment.

"No, Bama. I like like him." I clarified.

She gasped loudly, covering her mouth with her hands in shock. She was quite for a few moments, too stunned to speak.

"So you have feelings for him?"

"Yea... I tried not to, but I couldn't help it! I know I said I wasn't ready for a relationship, but it's like something just clicked. Something changed. Ever since he spent time with me at my place that one weekend, I can't help but feel butterflies whenever I talk to him or hear his voice or see him over the phone. I mean even before then, but now I can't ignore it or push the feelings away to the back of my mind." I rambled.

"Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. So you want to be in a relationship with him. Okay, what's the harm in that? It's been months since your ex, I'd say you healed significantly since then, and you two are pretty close."

"There is no harm, I'm just scared he doesn't feel the same. We did agree that this was just going to be something fun for the both of us with no titles. No exclusivity. No feelings. Just see where things go. And now I done caught stupid feelings!" I wailed, flapping my arms around.

"It's not stupid. Your feelings are valid. I genuinely think he has feelings for you too. The way he talks to you, the way he try's to make you feel comfortable, the way he looks at you. Girl, he even went out his way to surprise you for your birthday, and asked me for advice about you on a few different occasions. I don't think a man would do that if he just wanted to be friends or to get in your pants. And this is Marshall we're talking about, Eminem: The guy who's always super serious and doesn't really respect women yet managed to bow down to you." She told logically.

"I still don't know." I sighed.

"Why don't you just call him right now?" She blurted out.

"Now?"

"Yea. Get it off your chest. Closed mouths don't get fed."

She was right. Plus I had this small boost of liquid confidence in me still so what's the worse that could happen? He tells me he doesn't have feelings back? Okay. I'm sure I'll forget all about this in the morning anyways if it does go bad. Then I won't have to fret.

Hopefully it doesn't though because I really do like him. He's so sweet, caring, charming, and funny. He understands me, never judges me, doesn't see me as less than, isn't toxic, nothing. Plus he's hella fine. I try to act nonchalant around him, but deep down, he always makes me shy and nervous. After talking with her for a little bit longer, I went out to the patio to call Marshall in private. I'm really going to do this. I'm really going to allow myself to be this vulnerable to him right now, where he can completely hurt my feelings entirely without a second thought. I took a deep breath and dialed his number. It rang a few times before he answered, his deep, morning voice rumbling through the speaker.

"Sadé? What's wrong?" He mumbled.

I must've woken him up out of his sleep.

"Oh sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I'll just call you back tomorrow." I quickly muttered.

"No, no, it's alright. What are you still doing up? It's like... almost 6 in the morning here. I would've been getting up soon to workout anyways."

"Oh. It's about to be 3 here. I forgot about the time difference. I never went to bed actually. Ummm..." I paused momentarily losing my liquid courage, "Can I tell you something?" I slurred, slightly dazed.

I was still drunk, but less so. I was able to walk on my own and articulate my thoughts at this point unlike a few hours ago.

"Are you drunk?" He questioned, sounding skeptical.

"I wouldn't say drunk. I'm not sober though." I admitted.

I was met with silence, and heard shuffling in the background noise before he spoke up.

"What did you want to tell me?"

"I'm just gonna be straight forward right now; I have feelings for you." I squeezed my eyes shut after saying it to him out loud.

"Maybe we should talk about this when you wake up. When you're sober. You don't know what your saying right now, girl." He stated calmly.

"Yes, I do! I know exactly what I'm saying. I'm saying I'm ready for something more. I want to be with you." I let out in a frustrated tone.

"No you don't. You're just talking because you had too much to drink for one night." He sighed.

"Drunken words are sober thoughts, right? Why don't you believe me?" I said on the verge of tears suddenly feeling very emotional.

I felt so stupid for ever saying anything to begin with. Why did I put myself out there? I should've just kept my mouth shut. He obviously doesn't feel the same way. That's why he doesn't want to talk about it right now. Because he wants to wait until I'm sober to absolutely obliterate my emotions.

"It's not that I don't believe you. I just refuse to talk to you about something so serious while your thoughts are compromised." He said softly.

"Compromised? Are you forreal?"

"Yes. You're literally drunk right now. You're slurring your words and are acting irrationally."

"Don't make it sound like I can't handle my liquor, now."

"I didn't say that. You could be more responsible though."

"I am responsible."

"Then why are you even so drunk anyways? I thought you were busy. Shouldn't you be sleeping to get some rest?" He suddenly asked, sounding alarmed.

"I am, but I had a break. I just went out partying. That's all."

"You've been partying and drinking a lot lately."

"No I haven't."

"Sadé." He said sternly.

"I'm 21 now. I'm living my best life. Chill."

"Sadé. I'm not a dumbass. I know when something is wrong." He once again stated sternly.

"Nothing is wrong." I lied.

I have been drinking a lot more than usual, and partying way more than normal. I usually don't even attend because I have anxiety, but I've been needing to take my mind off of things lately. Relax per say. Find an escape.

"Sadé." He said, finally raising his voice.

"I don't know! Maybe because I'M FUCKING SAD. REALLY REALLY FUCKING SAD." I yelled through the phone, breaking down, "Is that what you wanted to hear, Marshall? Huh?! Every time you ask me if I'm okay, I lie to you, and say I'm great because I don't want you to know I'm actually letting the hate get to me. I'm sorry for lying to you. And I'm sorry for calling your stupid fucking phone to tell you my stupid fucking feelings I have for you this early in the morning when you clearly don't feel the same."

"Sae- " He began sympathizing, but I cut him off.

"No. Just forget about it. Goodbye, Marshall." I ended the phone call.

Well that wasn't supposed to be how it was supposed to go. At all. It was as supposed to end with him telling me how much he liked me back, not about how I subconsciously cope to deal with the massive amount of hate I've been receiving lately as my platform grows. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down because I swear I was two seconds away from crying. Maybe he's right. Maybe I am drinking irresponsibly. I mean I would literally drink underage and now it's only gotten worse. I just want to temporarily forget about the world around me sometimes.

And now I have to figure out how to get rid of my feelings for Marshall somehow. I'm so stupid for even thinking for a second he would have feelings for me. He's way out of my league. He probably just wanted someone to keep him company until he found someone his own age to date. A relationship wouldn't have worked out anyways considering how polar opposites we are.

I turn my phone completely off before going back inside to the blanket fort. I enter to find Bama fast asleep, the movie still going. I turn it off and get under one of the blankets, going to sleep.

A/N: I always get excited about these things, but I seriously cannot express how grateful I am for all of you who comment, vote, and read this story. The story is at over almost 10.5k views and just landed #1 in Eminem in the rankings you guys! Love you all ♥️♥️♥️- 🤎