Damon's wearing a wig and a dress and looking gorgeous while doing it
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It was a slow dance, but they were laughing. Jamie danced with her like she was real. A cigarette between his lips, one hand holding hers, the other on her waist, so at ease it made me want to throw up. This was ridiculous. Why were they doing this, dancing like that? We all knew things would go back to normal tomorrow, when the wig ended up in some corner, the makeup smudged, the dress returned to its real owner. I felt my fingers tighten around the beer bottle, the pressure growing with the speed of my thoughts.
I had just never seen her before.
Never really met her. I hadn’t known she was even a possibility.
And it was unfair that Jamie got to dance with her, and I didn’t.