Chapter 3

The music is disappearing but still rumbling through the walls as I walk further away from it. Customers are laughing, and I can hear whistling—things are getting wild on the dancefloor.

But I will not be up all night.

All I need is enough alcohol to drown my sorrows or pass out so I no longer can focus on my depressing meeting with Logan.

"I'm so stupid..." I whisper to myself repeatedly while walking with a flask of wine in my right hand. My high heels were killing me, so I'm holding them in my other hand. I'm wobbling too; gosh, I probably look like a mess right now. "Why did I promise Logan to sing at his wedding? I'm so stupid, so fucking stupid..."

With unsteady legs, I miraculously make it back to the empty changing room. I'm breathing fast, with the past flashing by my eyes. I can hear Logan's past self introducing himself, and it hurts like a knife seeing that damn smile—I have to sit down in the room's corner and hug my knees for comfort.

My heart is pounding, tears falling into my lap. But luckily enough, Harper doesn't seem to be here.

I need to be alone and swallow this hurt.

Shamelessly, I drink from the flask and feel some liquor drop into my cleavage. After I'm done, I clink the glass against the floor and wipe around my mouth with my sleeve, blinking when I catch Harper staring down at me.

She glances down at me. "Okay, who do I need to club tonight?"

I laugh through my pain. It is kind of relieving hearing Harper's voice amid my pity party.

"No one... I just need a moment... Something happened out there and..." I bite my lips to hold back my tears, to spill the rest of my sentence without sounding like a child about to cry. "I just need to be alone, thank you."

Harper seems unwilling to leave. We have never been that close. I know she has a wife and that Harper identifies as a woman, but I've heard rumors that her wife isn't so fond of hormone therapy.

Those might only be rumors. Harper's wife has never shown her face at The Snowflake, though. I don't even know what she looks like.

"What friend would I be if I left you alone?" Harper sits down next to me, grimaces at the dust touching her hands, and brushes it off on her stylish dress. I swear she changes clothes a hundred times per day. "So, who hurt you, whose body are we burying tonight?"

I laugh, but Harper looks dead-serious.

"I'm not joking, Elena. This job means the world to me. You literally saved my broken ass by letting me work here, so I will help you carry the body away from the crime scene, and we will dump it into the river. I will do it in these high heels if I have to!"

The image of Harper being my partner in crime and helping me carry Logan's dead body in high heels got me cracking up even more. I can already imagine Harper freaking out as we pull the body out of my Subaru. I would be the angry leader, bossing Harper around, and she would be inwardly crying the entire time.

I take a deep breath, deciding on trusting Harper with something I've told no one else. "There was a man out there..."

"A handsome one?" Harper got both her eyebrows lifted.

I nod with a brief smile. "Yeah... Very handsome." My heart is breaking as I speak. "The man came over to introduce himself, ask if I could perform at his wedding..."

"Ouch," Harper grimaces.

"That's not the most painful part," I tell her and stare down at my hands gripping the material of my red dress; even my toes are curling. "The man's name is Logan Rhodes Williams—I found the name on his card and almost choked. It turns out the handsome stranger is my childhood crush, someone who broke my heart."

"Double ouch,"

I lift my head to meet Harper's pained eyes. "Logan said that I would never be a real woman..."

Harper blinks at me for many moments until a lightbulb seems to kindle inside her head. Then, her eyes turn wide, and she looks me up and down plenty of times before half-smiling.

"You're transgender?" She doesn't look entirely convinced. It takes plenty of moments before she nods slowly as if finally having come to terms with the information I've given her. "I would never have guessed. You have a very feminine face; usually, I can tell by looking at the nose, but not with you."

I smile brightly. "I've had plenty of surgeries, therapies, and the whole cut-away-my-penis kit, and it has cost me a fortune. But, luckily, it all turned worth it hearing you say those words."

"I'm glad it made you happy, and if it's any comfort, you look like a real woman; you act like one too."

Her words move me on a deeper level, and not knowing what to do or how to respond, I lean into her, shocking the woman by hugging her side like one would a close friend. Her body turns tense in response, but then she leans into me with her cheek resting on my head.

"Thank you so much, Harper." I'm drunk and sniffing like a lost, snotty child, but I don't care.

"For what?" She snorts. "Stating the truth?"

I smile and lean back to straighten up my back. "Yes, you recovered my self-confidence."

At least something good came out of tonight; I learned that I have a friend in Harper.

"That was nothing." Her eyes turn serious then. "So, tell me about this handsome man. Is he your age? Where did you meet him?"

A blush spread over my cheeks. "Logan is a year older. He was popular, always surrounded by girls and other rich kids, so I always knew who he was, but it wasn't until the last year that I spoke to him."

"You spoke to him?" Harper asks. "Brave girl."

A smile touches my face. "We made friends against all odds. Logan was repeating his last year because of failing his grades, and the teacher made me into his tutor, thinking he was doing us both a favor. I needed a friend, and Logan needed to better his grades."

"Kill two birds with one stone; your teacher was smart."

"He was," I agree, and then continue my story. "Logan hated me at first, but then he gradually opened up. And it turned out the angry dude was actually quite nice on the inside. He started cracking vulgar jokes in mere weeks and took me to McDonald's every night for milkshakes. Logan was straightforward even as a teenager, and as an introvert, I kinda..."

Harper is leaning forward now with glittering eyes, entirely invested with my love story. "Ah, you fell in love with him?"

I nod. "Yes... I was weak and struggling with my identity, but he brought color into my life."

"That's so romantic,"

"Yeah, it was terrific until I one day called him to meet me at a parking lot. I confessed to him, told him how much he meant to me that I was in love with him, and I also wore a dress to show him the real me, and that was the day he replied by saying I was disgusting..."

I cry, and Harper massages my shoulder with a concerned expression. "So, did you turn down his request?"

Her question got me laughing loudly. Harper will think I'm stupid once I give her my answer. Simply thinking about what I agreed on earlier heightens the chance of suffering from a seizure.

"No, I told him I will do it."

Harper lifts both eye painted eyebrows. "Why?"

"Because I want revenge." My best squirms as if not agreeing with the words that came out through my mouth, but I swallow the guilt. Falling for the same man twice is foolish.

Harper's eyes turn serious. "I won't tell you what is wrong or right, honey, but I would like to advise you to be careful."

I laugh. "Careful?"

"Yes," Harper says. "So that he doesn't break your heart,"

More laughter sips out through my lips. "What is there to break?" My tears are falling. "I'm already broken, a lost soul that can't find peace, and it's all because of him." A twisted smile takes my lips. "And I intend on breaking his heart this time."