Faded (Rock Star Trilogy)

down with a lime. The alcohol burns all the way down to my stomach, and I remember I haven’t eaten.
    “Maybe we should order some…” Before I can say food, another shot glass is in front of me, and I forgot what I was going to say.
    Thirty minutes later, Stephan and I are singing a duet on stage. Lucky by Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat never sounded so good, though that could definitely be the alcohol talking. Stephan doesn’t sound half bad though. I am pleasantly surprised.
    I think about the words as we sing them. Stephan picked out the song, and I’m trying hard not to read too much into it, but I can’t help it. My tipsy state of mind over-analyzes everything. The lyrics are so sweet, and they are exactly how I feel about him.
    But a couple of shots later, I’m too drunk to think about what we sang.
    “We should do another song.” I’m pretty sure my voice is slurred.
    “Okay.” Stephan agrees. He doesn’t seem nearly as drunk as I am. He picks the song again, and one more shot later we are singing Marry You by Bruno Mars. Hey — it’s Vegas. It’s fitting. Maybe a couple hears our song and decides to get married because of it.
    The crowd is cheering us on, and I get into it. I start dancing around Stephan, and he is smiling at me, shaking his head. He’s never seen this side of me.
    After our song is over, I do another shot. I know that I should stop, but the rational side of my brain is currently too intoxicated to care.
    “I am really drunk,” I tell Stephan, and then start laughing for no reason.
    “I am too,” he agrees. “We should probably stop before we do something stupid.”
    “We should get food!” I say, suddenly wanting pizza. “I know the best pizza place!”
    “Good idea. We probably should have eaten before we drank so much.”
    We get up and leave the karaoke bar. I realize just how wasted I am when I start walking. I trip over my own feet and nearly fall down. I lean on Stephan, who is also wobbly.
    “You know…” I start out. “If we would have brought Bob, he could have carried us.”
    “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want Bob to carry me.”
    “I want somebody to carry me,” I start to whine. “The ground keeps moving, and I don’t want to fall.”
    “I’ll carry you,” Stephan offers. “You’re so small, I bet I could carry you with one arm.” He trips, nearly bringing us both down. I laugh as we lean against a building for support.
    “If you carried me, you would fall.”
    “You know what I’ve always wanted to do?”
    “What?” I ask.
    “To play poker in Vegas,” he answers.
    “Then let’s go!”
     
    12:01 AM
    Poker
     
    I have lost count of the shots I’ve taken. The room has been spinning for the last thirty minutes, and everything is hilarious. Stephan is actually good at poker, though I tell him it’s because I’m with him. I’m his “good luck charm”.
    “I think I should stop playing,” Stephan tells me after playing for an hour.
    “Why? You’re doing sooooo good!”
    He blinks hard a few times. “Well, the table keeps moving. We should probably go back to the hotel.”
    “Good idea.”
    He cashes out, and we head out of the casino. I’m not sure which way our hotel is, but right now I really don’t care.
    “Hey, Scarlett?”
    “Yeah…” My voice sounds unnaturally high. I sing just to hear myself. I’m fucking good.
    “You know the song you wrote for me?”
    “ Duh , I wrote it! Of course I know it.” I pout a little bit. “You didn’t like it.”
    “I did like it. A lot. I thought that you didn’t love me. You keep telling me that you won’t have sex with me 'cause we’re not in love.”
    “I said that because you don’t love me ,” I quickly clarify.
    “But I do…” He pauses. “I feel like I shouldn’t be saying this when I’ve drank this much, but I love you.”
    “I thought you were waiting to tell your future bride. I thought it was something special you were going to say on your wedding day.” Why did I say that?
    I love you, too , would have sounded much better.
    “Crap. I did say that, didn’t I?” Stephan frowns for a second, but then he smiles. “I’ve got an idea!”

 
     
    Friday, November 7
    12:08 PM
    This cannot be happening.
     
    My head is pounding, and the room is spinning. I try to open my eyes, but the light hurts so much. My stomach suddenly feels queasy. Whatever is in my stomach wants out. I get up and run toward the nearest bathroom, which I’m not