Chapter 1: Mallory

            Mallory pulled herself reluctantly out of his bed. She began dressing while he lay there looking at her.

“Are you coming over tomorrow night?” He asked her.

“No. I promised my mom we’d go shopping. How about Friday?”

“I have a date.” He got up and pulled on his boxers. “It’s the bartender from that bar we went to last week. The one with the curly hair. She’s so hot.”

            She felt a tinge of jealousy, but it quickly faded. This was only a fling, nothing serious. She liked Ian. He was fun to be with and the sex was amazing. And he was gorgeous. But he had issues. He could be obnoxious sometimes. He was a little bit of a racist. Occasionally he liked to binge on coke for a whole weekend until he thought he would die and then vow to never do it again. All of these things would bother Mallory if she were really invested in him. But what they had was casual and it suited both of them just fine. She didn’t need a relationship and he couldn’t stick with just one girl. They never fought and never lied to each other. It was perfect.

Getting into her old gray Taurus she threw her purse onto the passenger seat. She turned the key in the ignition, setting off a clatter of loose metal in the undercarriage. The headlights faded from his garage door as she pulled out of the driveway. She rolled down the window and turned up the CD player. It was late, but she wasn’t tired. Her mind was just waking up. She loved the night, the artificial light, the smell of the night air, and the world that hid from the daylight.

From the car’s floor came a chirping sound. She’d forgotten her phone in the car. It was still plugged in and the little green light was blinking to signal she had a message. It was a text from her most trusted girlfriend and partying buddy Stevie.

OMG! Won backstage passes to Mad Ben Stan. Saturday 6 pm.

Mad Ben Stan was an obnoxious pop group that Stevie adored. Since the 90s they had somehow made a career out of crazy costumes, over-the-top sets and videos, and insane lyrics. Though lately they were heading the way of the “oldies act”. Mallory didn’t understand Stevie’s obsession.  

The group was lead by its singer Ben Stanovich who wasn’t a conventionally attractive guy by the media’s standards. He was tall with long, brown hair and kind of severe features. He always made weird faces when he performed and sometimes screeched like his pants were too tight. But Stevie called him “fascinating” and “charismatic”. To each her own.

Now Stevie had backstage passes. It was a dream come true for her. Of course she asked Mallory to go. There was no one in the world she would rather invite. They did everything together.

Mallory figured her week in her head. Tomorrow was Thursday which meant work at 8 AM and shopping later with her mom. Friday was a short day at work but Ian had a date. Saturday was the concert so she wouldn’t see him until at least Sunday. Maybe she could call him up after the show and drop by. But he would probably be out all night and pick up some random woman in a bar. So it wasn’t likely that he’d be available for a midnight visitor.

It’s not that Mallory missed him. She could totally get by without seeing him for three days. It’s just that the weekends reminded her that she was alone. She was twenty-six and alone.

She didn’t mind that Ian didn’t want anything more. She didn’t want it, either. Not from him. He wasn’t her type. They didn’t even really have anything in common, other than drinking and sex. And he had an obvious lack of respect for women. Mallory wasn’t even sure if he liked being in the company of women, aside from trying to get laid of course.

When Mallory met Ian she barely gave him a second glance. She was with some girlfriends at a bar and he and his guy friends were introduced. He was cute. He smiled a lot. But Mallory knew his type; a womanizing frat boy with a street racing car who liked to get into bar fights and probably lived off of his mom and dad.

            She had been right on two things, the fighting and the womanizing. She had come to learn that he worked at a bank and was good with his money. He lived on a budget and offered to help Mallory create one. He had even budgeted for his cocaine, under a different description, of course.

            He’d actually never been in a fraternity. He was studying to become a pharmacist, although his first love was marine biology. And he was a good student.

            He also didn’t drive a street racer. He drove an old Lincoln Towncar that he’d inherited from his grandma. Mallory had been shocked when she’d first seen it.

            “Is this really your car?” She’d built up such a solid prejudice of him that she was visibly surprised by each revelation.

            However, he was a womanizer. He loved the ladies. And a weekend without a fight in a bar was wasted in his opinion. Unless he was with Mallory. She was a fair compensation.

            This didn’t bother Mallory. Nor did his coke use, even though she wasn’t into drugs. She wasn’t responsible for him. They kept enough emotional distance from each other that neither had to feel accountable.

            Mallory was still thinking about Ian when she walked into her apartment; her own apartment that she didn’t have to share with anybody else. She didn’t have to clean up after anybody else or keep track of anybody else. Its modern, uncluttered look made her feel independent, and a little bit- what was that?- sad?