Giving my reflection one last quick check over, I am pleased with the end result. To complete my funky transformation, I spray my favourite perfume in the air and slowly walk through its fine, floral mist.

My confidence is so high and my heels are too.

Black skinny jeans are sexily tight, flattering every one of my lower curves. And my hair is sleekly long, and my lemon-coloured strappy open shoulder top is sassily short—yep, I'm most certainly ready.

Leaving my room, I smile at myself strutting towards Doug's. As I get closer, I can already hear the loud music coming from the other side of his hotel door. I knock hard, fearing I won't be heard if I don't.

I'm so relieved when Lanky eventually opens it up to me. "Hey, Frankie...you look nice." Is his sweetly given compliment.

"Awww, thanks Lanky." He's such a quiet chap, intelligent as hell, but I'm really beginning to like the pint-sized sweetie. "I see you guys have very much kicked off the party without me?" I joke, scanning the groove-filled room that has a lot of unknown faces in it.

Closing the door behind me, Lanky aloofly answers back. "Yeah, you could say that." Doug has already told me how Lanky is a total sound engineer genius, he's just not all that fussed on people, though. He is one of those guys who is perfectly happy to just fade into the busy background. "Vodka, right?" He politely asks, summoning a smile for only me.

"That would be great." Now, I'm beginning to wonder where Doug is. With my heeled feet taking me deeper into the room, I am drawn to where a group of people stand chatting over the music around a coffee table that I know is just beside the sofa. As I curiously peep over their shoulders, I honestly wish I hadn't. My blissful bubble has just been burst with the biggest but quietest of bangs—leant over the table, is Doug and this other guy, snorting lines of coke from off of it.

In silence, I watch.

In silence, I try to process how I'm feeling.

I'm disappointed.

Frustrated.

Upset.

Doug and I have never spoken about drugs, I just figured they weren't a part of my life, and they didn't seem to be a part of his.

But I can now see for myself, that is obviously not the case.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not that stupidly naïve. I know that drugs are everywhere in the world that we both are professionally involved in. I've even dabbled a bit in the past myself, but it's never been something I have needed in order to enjoy what I do. And after Falco, I knew I would never dabble again. He ended up falling more and more into drugs. It got to the point where he couldn't even deliver a set without snorting or popping something beforehand. Which was a shame, because when we first met, Falco was actually a pretty sweet guy. But his ego and his partying with drugs, got the best of him. His hunger for fame and his need to constantly get high, was the final nail in the coffin for us. I was just the fat stepping stone to the fame and to more of the drugs. Which is why I stand here so disappointed right now. People lie when they're high. They can't be trusted when they're high. And their lows are really shitty and low when they're always getting high. It's something I don't like being around too much. It's a choice that many choose to do, but it's no longer a choice for me. In the same stifling silence, I stand here so damn conflicted.

Can Doug be trusted?

How bad is his coke habit?

Is he just another Falco?

"Your vodka, Frankie." Lanky is standing beside me, watching Doug wipe his nose as he hands me my drink. "You look how I feel about it all?" He's now looking at me, solemn and with his head curiously tilted in my direction. He too, looks just as unimpressed as I am.

"I didn't know he did this?" Holding my vodka tight, I feel myself getting more upset by the second.

"He doesn't usually, only when Mack is around."

My eyes slide from a laughing Doug, to the blond guy laughing by his side. In a white Oxford shirt with rolled up sleeves, Mack certainly looks the suave part with his pristine black trousers and his wet look gelled hair. Even from where I am standing, I can tell this guy is slimily smooth. With the disappointment and conflict hammering around in my chest, I'm actually considering just taking my drink and leaving with it. But just as I question whether I should or not, Doug notices me. "Hey! Frankie! Come and meet Mack?!" He's now standing, enthusiastically beckoning me over. With much hesitation, I leave Lanky's side and feel like I am trudging through my disappointment to where Doug is. "Shit, you look gorgeous. Doesn't she look gorgeous?" He's getting everyone to agree with him. "Quickly get your sexy ass over here, Frankie Fenner?!" As soon as I am close enough, he plants a powerful kiss to my lips. Before, I would have probably kissed him back just as powerfully, but now, I just want to be anywhere else but here. "Mack, this is Frankie...isn't she just gorgeous?" Doug is all hyped, staring at his fellow wreckhead.

Mack is eyeing me with his coke-fuelled eyes. "Yeah, she's gorgeous." He saunters towards me, seemingly undressing more of me with his coked-up imagination. "So cool to meet you, Frankie." He sniffs slightly, probably the last of his whizz line tickling his overly large nostrils. "Do you want some?" His calculating grey eyes shift from me and back onto the table.

With obvious disdain, I recoil and ever so sarcastically say. "No, thank you." With a cold glance, I look at the two of them and slide out from Doug's hold on me. "I've forgotten something in my room." Then gulping up the last of my vodka, I hand my empty tumbler back to Doug and walk away without saying another word.

I probably look and sound like a total bitch, but I don't care.

I just need to get out of here. I need time to think things through. I'm so wrapped up in doubt, I am finding it hard to even swallow.

My disappointment.

My upset.

They both leave such a bitter tang in my mouth.

Hurrying in my heels, I make my way to the door. Opening it, I wonder whether I'll ever come back through it again. Doug isn't the person I thought he was. He isn't perfect. He has a flaw. A flaw that goes right up his nose. I just don't think I can be with him anymore. As attractive as he still is, his flaw makes him sadly so unattractive to me now. Halfway along the corridor, I'm angry with him for not telling me about him taking coke. I'm even angrier with myself for not ever asking.

"Frankie?!"

I look back, and my heart drops like a rock. It's Mack. And he's slimily sauntering towards me. He is so assured with his strides, anyone would think that he's the hotshot DJ. "What's up?" I ask, reluctant to stop and face him.

"You tell me?" Is his accusatory reply.

With my face tightening up, I look at the man that I already know I don't like after having only just met him. "I'm not into drugs, that's all."

Moving in closer, more than likely to intimidate me with his overbearing confidence, he smiles. "You've been with Doug all of five minutes, and you're already getting your thong in a twist, huh?"

Standing straight, I look him hard in the eye. "It's just not my thing." I flatly state.

Trying to pin me in, Mack and that confidence of his are now overstepping their slimy mark. "But your Doug's thing, and we kind of like sharing our things."

"What?" My voice is cracked, brittle with shocked disbelief.

With his arms still keeping me where I am, Mack chuckles. "Oh yeah, we have shared girls before, I'm sure Doug will be happy to share you as well?" I don't want to hear this! I honestly don't! Are what my thoughts scream out from the confines of my head. Mack Monroe is demeaning me. Demeaning all that Doug and I have so briefly shared.

Unable to believe the balls of this slimy turd, I angrily push him back. "You're over confident, over friendly and way over the line, Mack...I'm not anyone's to share!"

With one last filthy look, I turn on my heels and hurry back to my room. Once safely inside, I stand with my back against the door and just cry.

How could I be so stupid?

So stupid to think that Doug was special?

To think that we were special?

I've got everything so wrong.

So, so, stupidly wrong.

**AUTHOR INTERRUPTION**

What are you lovelies thinking?
Is Frankie overreacting?
Has Doug screwed up?

Your thoughts on my latest story is ALWAYS welcomed. As are those very gorgeous comments 💋

Video above is the fabulous: I Took a Pill in Ibiza - Mike Posner