If I showed, I showed. If I didn’t… well, I always did.

Being alone was never good for long. I’d had enough of that growing up. I craved contact. I needed attention. I demanded to be noticed.

I laughed silently first, and then out loud when I remembered on more than one occasion Lake saying that I was an attention whore. She saw right through me, so I had no choice but to befriend her. I didn’t anticipate actually caring about her. I didn’t show it the last time I saw her, but I never really wanted to hurt her. Just my brother.

I may seek attention, but that didn’t mean it filled the void. It was more like a temporary fix that I quickly became addicted to—it was part of the reason I was still searching.

I hopped on my bike, and when it roared to life, I sped off for a night of darkness and sin.

* * * * *

The address took me to a seedier part of town that even the cops gave a wide berth. It was a wonder how many of the city’s elite would be caught dead in a place like this, mixing with scum. I toed the line between the two classes.

A row of houses, each in worse shape than the one before it, were littered with partygoers coming and going. I picked one to park my bike in front of.

“Chris! Welcome to the party, man!”

The voice came from my left, and by the time I dismounted, he was on me. Keith was a big time dealer who liked to host parties to scout out potential clientele and competition. There was more than one occasion when a party ended badly due to a shootout or a druggie overdosing. In fact, it was the very type of situation that resulted in our friendship three years ago. I saved him from a few stick-up kids, and he repaid me by sending me fresh clientele and invitations to his parties. More often than not, I would bring my business here and do a few tats for extra cash—not that I really needed it.

“What’s up, bro? You got the party started without me?” I teased as we slapped hands. He strategically managed to push a beer in my other hand. I wasn’t usually the beer drinking type, but these days, I began to care less and less.

“We always get the party started without you. You show up when you feel like it. If we waited for you, it would be time to end it before it ever got started.”

“Haven’t you ever heard that a true party doesn’t stop?”

“Yeah, well, it would be kind of hard not to stop when everyone is passed out drunk from booze and buzz.”

“So why out here? This isn’t your usual kind of spot.”

“Man, the pigs have been sniffing around my shit so I had to change it up. Besides, I’ve been hearing about a smaller dealer around these parts that wanted to take my spot.”

“You know one day your shit is going to catch you by the collar, right?”

“And when it does, at least I’ll be able to say I lived my life the way I chose. How many people do you know who can say that besides me and you?”

“If you say so, man,” I agreed half-heartedly. In truth, Keith was dying. His path of self-destruction would lead him to one of two places—the grave or prison. But was I any better? I may not indulge, but I was no better than the rest because I chose this life.

Di had warned me just about every day how easy it was to get sucked into the fast life, but what she didn’t know was I never do anything I didn’t want anymore.

The last time I did, it cost me everything.

At least now, if I woke up tomorrow and decided I wanted a completely different path, I would take that road, but until then, I lived for today and today only.

“So what brought you by tonight?” Keith asked, forcing my attention back to him. “Bitches, booze, or buzz?”

“Boredom.”

“Ah.” He’d gone quiet as he looked over the party and sipped on his beer. After three years of friendship, he knew not to push the issue. It was common knowledge that I never indulged at these parties beyond alcohol.

I was content to stand here and people watch for the rest of the night until Keith’s crew staggered over with their groupies in tow.

A chorus of drunken greetings from the guys and sexy smiles meant to seduce from the girls interrupted the silence. Keith snapped his fingers at someone I couldn’t see, and not long after, lawn chairs were brought over. I was handed one and wasted no time kicking back.

“Chris, man, your hands are looking a little empty,” Ryder, Keith’s right hand, said. “Katy, go sit on his lap.”

The redhead massaging his shoulders promptly skipped over to me with a wide grin as if he had just given her a million dollars rather than passed her around like the slut she was. I never aspired to have that kind of power, but it was always amusing to watch.