My Fucking Nightmare

Matt and Brian didn’t want to ride back in the rain, and I didn’t blame them. It was wet, soggy, and miserable, and my hair really didn’t agree with all that extra atmospheric humidity. Plus we weren’t dressed or packed to endure almost three hours of torrential downpour, so staying here in Vegas was the best option we had. It wasn’t like the guys would run out of money anytime soon.
I guess sometime within the last couple of days Matt got an angry phone call from Johnny who noticed that we weren’t in Los Angeles anymore. Matt invited him to join us, but he wasn’t having it, so the little fucker stayed in L.A. and partied at my bar with some groupies of the band. I think Matt mentioned Benji and his brother too, but I was too involved with the slot machines when he told me that I don’t remember anything other than the misery in his voice.
Matt just sucked it up and joined me at the slots. He and Brian won a bunch of money at the poker tables, especially blackjack, and it seemed fun but I didn’t have any kind of poker face whatsoever so I stayed far away from all that crap. Watching was way more fun anyway. The craps tables were more my speed, as was roulette and bingo. When Brian wasn’t gambling he was socked away in his hotel room with Melissa, helping her write that weird article she was all up in arms about.
I guess if it wasn’t for her we wouldn’t have even come to Vegas, so there’s that. I didn’t talk to her as much as I used to when we were roommates. Moving away from each other and living on opposite sides of the city would do that to a friendship. Again, she gave me Matt, so I wasn’t complaining. I had a lot to thank Melissa for that I hadn’t yet.
Jimmy was usually nowhere to be seen. We all assumed he was at a strip bar or something, but no one asked questions. We didn’t need to know. We were all enjoying ourselves quite thoroughly. And there was something about having sex with Matt in a hotel room that wasn’t quite like having it at home. It was way wilder, and we had to at least try to be quiet since there were families staying here too. Come on, I mean families in the MGM? The Excalibur was way more kid-friendly I heard. MGM was crazy huge. Not as pretty as the Bellagio, though, which was my next choice in hotels.
Matt and I were at the point of no return in our relationship, but in a good way. We became so close that I couldn’t imagine any aspect of my life without him, even though his album and bandmates took up way, way more of his time than I’d hoped. As shitty as that was, he always came home to me at night. Drunk or not, his presence was always calming and welcome. I was in no way unhappy, and the way I always caught him looking at me said no different.
So we decided to get married.
Nothing big, just a legal binding in one of the little chapel outside the strip. The Elvis one, more specifically. Only Brian and Melissa showed up, since Jimmy was still AWOL and the other two didn’t bother leaving L.A. The ceremony was quick, we said premeditated vows, and ceremonially kissed to tie the knot. We left for the hotel again to consummate the wedding. I must have gotten nineteen messages from Melissa—worried messages, I might add—all within a span of a couple hours. Mostly along the lines of wondering what the hell I was thinking. Getting married in a little Vegas chapel wasn’t that big of a deal, right?
Nah, it couldn’t have been. We were happy. We were in love. Melissa and Brian wanted to play it safe, be huge pussies about it. I just wanted all that legal shit over and done so I knew that Matt was in this for the long haul. After all, their tour was coming up pretty fucking quick and I needed some last-minute reassurances that he wasn’t going to back out and leave me behind.
Needless to say we spent the rest of the week in Vegas on what anyone would call a honeymoon, and I don’t think I put on pants at all before we left.
Oh, I should have probably mentioned to Matt that another reason I wanted to get married was because I thought I was pregnant. But I didn’t want to spring that on him right away, so I decided to wait until we got back home and the dust cleared.
By then, though, it was too late.

Notes

All killer, no filler. Sorry, y'all.