Twenty Four

                                    

                                          
Minji's Pov
Hanni didn't show up. Not that I thought she would. Not after the way I treated her. I'll be lucky if she ever speaks to me again, honestly. Still, I waited at my place where we were supposed to meet long after the agreed upon time before leaving for the airport. It's a sad fucking day when Country's Hottest Bad Girl gets stood up.
Tossing back the rest of my fifth bourbon of the evening, I pour another from the hotel's well-stocked bar and think about skipping the awards myself but know Jin would probably quit on me as pissed as he is for lunch and the thing with Hanni. I'm batting a thousand. Why I thought fucking around with Hanni was a good idea I'm not sure. I should have known better. Best laid plans and all that shit.
I've never felt a pull like that before though. Couldn't have denied myself even if I wanted to, and I didn't want to. So I didn't and now I'm paying for it. Showing up to this award show half in the bag is probably right up there with bad fucking decisions, but I'm about to do that too. Again. Thankfully this one isn't the damn CMA's or anything. Still a big deal with celebrating all of country's biggest radio stations and TV networks. I'm just thankful Jin turned them down when they asked if I would perform. I think he was worried I'd show up drunk and fall off the damn stage. I'm supposed to present an award though, so I guess he wasn't worried enough. The room phone rings letting me know that the driver has arrived. Grabbing the suit jacket off the back of the chair, I head down. Time to live up to this stupid nickname, I guess.
By the time we arrive at the theater, I'm more convinced than ever that I want to be anywhere but here. The paps are lined up shouting, cameras flashing, TV stations with mics hoping to catch an interview. I want to tap on the driver's shoulder and tell him to just keep driving. The bourbon I had at the hotel, and the two I just downed during our drive over is too much and yet not enough to deal with this shit tonight. The limo rolls to a stop as we inch toward my spot in the queue.
Rubbing a hand over my face, grabbing the pack of cinnamon gum from my inside pocket, I unwrap a piece and pop it my mouth. When the door opens for me to exit and start my trek down the carpet, I don't even bother trying to muster up a smile. I just raise my hand and nod, giving them what I hope looks like some semblance of a smolder and not the woman version of resting bitch face.
"Minji! Minji, over here!"
"Who's the new girl?"
"Are you together?"
"Is she here?"
The questions come at me from all angles, I answer none. What am I gonna tell them? 'Nah, she's at home never speaking to me again because I'm a dick.' Bet they'd eat that up.
I'm about to start what feels a bit like a walk of shame or maybe a roadside sobriety test with everyone watching. The bourbon coursing through my blood tests my ability to walk a straight line. I can feel its mellowing effects in every one of my limbs, the now-relaxed set of my shoulders and that haze that takes over your mind and makes you do stupid shit.
"Minji! Hi." A manicured hand lands on the sleeve of my black jacket. For half a beat I think it might be Hanni, but my skin doesn't light up like someone hit me with a cattle prod, so I know it's not. I drag my eyes up the slender arm, over a bared shoulder, until I land on her face. Blonde hair, brown eyes, wide mouth…I can't place her. I blame the bourbon.
"Solar. We met briefly at the build in Liberty Hill. I'm with Country All Day Radio."
Ahh, now I remember. The chick Hanni shut down cold. "Good to see you." I drop my gaze and let it travel over her in appreciation. She must notice because she pops her hip, letting her dress fall apart some to reveal a slit that goes nearly to her damn waist. First thing I notice? Her legs aren't the same smooth as Hanni's. Shit. Solar loops her arm through mine, leaning into me so that she can be heard over the crowd.