“California girls are unforgettable.” Tony said while patting Rhodey’s back. He circled his drink in hand, ice cubes clinking against the glass. His eyes flit over to you in a bikini lying on the pools edge, the golden sunset lighting your skin golden. Your fingers tease the pool’s surface, water ghosting upon your fingertips. “Yeah, whatever.” Rhodey rolled his eyes and began to walk away. “Two weeks, Tony. You’ll need to be back.” The man glanced over his should to remind Tony. Two weeks until he had to make another important public appearance.

Ten days later, you were still in his bed. Alcohol bottles littered the coffee table alongside some other items. Clothes strewn across the floor.

The days had come by in a blur, loud music, lots of substances, lots of people, dancing, and “visceral tango-ing” on a beach with your stilettos half-buried in the sand. Another moment rang as your alcohol-filled glasses clinked together at a rowdy bar. You danced that night in your daisy dukes and you remember Tony’s gaze shift down to your bikini top. A charming smile from Tony flashed in your mind. From your seat in a different, more elegant diner, you could see the lively city below you and other women dancing with acquaintances of Tony. Loud music blared from the radio of your jeep as you drove down a road viewing the mountainous range of Palm Springs in another memory.

Now, you’re awake in your house near the beach of Venice. Tony was absolutely demolished from the eventful week. His eyes closed with a look of peace that was disgustingly beautiful if you don’t count his high B.A.C. as a factor.

You put a hand against your temple. Your head was pounding. What time was it? You look over to the clock; 1:55 pm. “Jesus,” You mutter and slip out of your bed. Raiding the closet, you find some Tylenol and down three pills without any liquid. You find the bathroom and looking in the mirror, you see that you clearly needed a shower and to wipe the smudged mascara under your waterline.

After you finished in the bathroom, you put on a smooth robe, got a glass of water, and sat on one of the outside lounges as the hot sun washed away the tension in your muscles.

After about half an hour, the glass door slid open. “How’s the sun?” Tony’s husky voice sounded from behind you. He had a small cup with whiskey in it. He took a sip and sat down on another lounge.