Bad Boy Rock Star
We'll have to take her with us. Unless you want to go through her bag and find her address."
    I wanted to sit up and tell them I was fine and I knew my own address but it seemed like such an effort to move and I could tell them after I finished sleeping.
    "Come on, Hannah. The bar’s closing."
    " Great manager, huh. She flakes after a few drinks." That was Spud’s voice.
    " Like you can talk, Spud. Remember that time you threw up after the gig down the coast. Miserablest bastard alive in the van on the way back. ‘Stop the car, stop the car…’ And those cocktails looked a bit lethal."
    I silently thanked Eric and tried to get myself to sit up. If they let me sleep for little bit longer, I’d be okay.
    " We’ll get some coffee into her when we get home and she’ll sober up."
    " Coffee!" I sat up. "Did someone say coffee?"
    The next thing I knew, strong arms wrapped around me and lifted me.
    "Can you walk?"
    I nodded but I wasn't reall y sure. I leaned in against his warm, strong chest. In his arms, I felt safe and happy. But they were mean and kept making me move around and then we were outside and it was cold and I felt a coat being wrapped around my shoulders. I slumped against something that I thought was a wall but it moved. And then we were in car and we were going somewhere and the lights of the city looked pretty and blurry as I pressed my face against the cold glass. When we crossed the river, I wanted to tell them we were going the wrong way. I didn't live across the river. Not anymore. I lived in… where did I live?

Chapter 6
    By the time the taxi pulled up, my head had cleared and I could walk on my own.
    "Whose place is this?" I asked.
    " Mine," said Eric. "Mine and Jack’s."
    If I’d thought about where they lived, I’d have exp ected something much grungier than this. We walked into a huge, open living area with a pair of massive sofas and a large screen TV. To one side, was an open kitchen area and to the other side French doors opening out to a small courtyard. This definitely was not the type of place you could afford on a struggling rock star’s income. This was some prime industrial chic real estate. And they said they didn’t have the money to buy out the contract.
    " Want a drink?" Eric asked.
    " There was talk of coffee," I replied.
    Then the doorbell rang and people piled into the apartment. Eric disappeared for a while and came back with more promises of coffee.
    I sat on the sofa, still feeling a bit out of it. While I’d sobered up a bit, my head felt groggy and heavy.
    There were about 20 people in the room with more coming in behind them. Lots of noise and laughing. I didn’t want to move from the couch. Even if I wanted to go home, I still had no idea how to get there and now the trains would’ve stopped running.
    I clutched my bag to myself and hoped Eric would return soon with my coffee.
    I did parties. I did parties like nobody’s business. I made chitchat and air kissed and I could be fun. But I didn’t know parties like this. Full of strangers and conversations I had no part of. None of these people knew who I was. None of them cared.
    The shrieking laughter made my head hurt. I looked around and noticed two girls glimpsing at me and laughing.
    People behind me talked about things that meant nothing to me, like they spoke some kind of foreign language. I didn’t have to even attempt conversation to know that this year’s fashion collection would NOT be appropriate.
    I searched through my bag for my phone. Not that I expected anyone to call or message me, but it would give me something to do. Maybe I should message Angie and tell her to get over here. She’d be great at a party like this, for sure. But then maybe she wasn’t here for a reason. I didn’t know her well enough to just casually invite her to someone else’s party and, oh yeah, I didn’t know the address.
    " How are you feeling?"
    Jack Colt put a mug of coffee on the table beside me and sat down on the

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