Ezra can feel that genuine smile creeping up on him once more, brain still buzzing from the nicotine and his interaction with Billie. He wasn't so sure about the femme in the beginning. Frankly, he thought she'd be more of a problem than anything else, but her eagerness to play his games and even try to win is confirmation enough that she's a worthy opponent.

Truth be told, being stuck in his own personal hell in this building left very little room for fun. Though trouble always seemed to find the male, he didn't expect it to be packaged into a petite, mouthy blonde this time. Lucky him.

He shakes his head at the thought of someone, who he towers nearly five inches over, giving him such a hard time. Literally. His hand shamelessly moves to readjust himself in his trousers.

'Next time you want to see if you can stir that whiskey dick of yours, try it out with someone else.' The words ring in his ears, a soft chuckle following as he takes the final drag from his cigarette. She has no idea what kind of things she just stirred inside him. While annoyance dominated much of his emotions when it came to Billie, that skimpy dress and the way her lips pressed against his cigarette ignited something inside him he couldn't quite put out.

Only recently had he found her even attractive. Their first meeting and practice had put him off out of arrogance. Truthfully, Ezra just didn't like to be reminded of how disliked he truly was. Tonight, however, had put Billie in an entirely different light. Admittedly, he would fuck just about anyone, but it took a special kind of girl to really turn him on.

Still, she's entirely frustrating. Had she been less consumed with concealing her arousal, maybe she would've noticed his. That thought nearly sets him over the edge. He'd been playing nice all night in an attempt to make Jeff and his bandmates happy. But now, he's in need of some kind of release.

His hand instinctively reaches for the glass vial in his pocket. He peers over towards the bend where the crowd remains, fingertips tapping some white powder on the back of his free hand before snorting it when the coast is clear. Pinching at his nostrils, his head tips back towards the stars. It's funny how he can't seem to locate any tonight. Just like the sky, he's alone again.

Somehow, Ezra always finds himself disconnected from everyone else. Upon returning to the crowd, he realizes no one even noticed his departure or arrival. Billie is over by the bar, back turned from where she'd know he'd return. It's so evident that everyone enjoys her company. She meshes right back into the crowd, as if she never left. It wouldn't be a surprise if she, too, forgot about him. For a moment, he thinks he hears her laugh. It's enough to make his stomach knot.

So, Ezra does what he knows best to forget the moment they shared. It's not difficult to find another girl interested in his company. In fact, all it takes is one look and a brunette with perky breasts and a beautiful smile is headed his way. For a moment, the male tries to center himself. Time shifts in a way he can't really comprehend. The air feels crisp, skin buzzing as she strokes her long nails against his forearm. How long had they been standing here together for?

She says her name, but he's not really listening. It starts with an 'M,' and for a moment, his heart stops. Just his fucking luck to find some brunette with a name that sounds like Madison. In that moment, Ezra swears he won't put himself through the emotional turmoil of fucking some girl that looks just like his ex. But clearly, he has a type.

"You look so sexy in this shirt," the brunette hums against the shell of his ear, hand slipping through the opening at his chest. Though his hand finds the curve of her ass, he feels nothing. Usually, by now, the coke will make him aroused enough to pretend like he's interested in anyone. Yet, his mind remains caught on Madison.

Ezra's eyes press shut and, for a moment, he feels four years younger. He was at an event like this, just on the verge of stardom. At that time, the singer took himself quite seriously. He fussed over every aspect of his life in relation to music, but that girl changed everything. The minute she teased him about his hair in front of his dismally small entourage, Ezra knew Madison was the one for him.

She, too, had a love of music and was still playing at seedy clubs and peddling her music to various labels. And for better or worse, the two found inspiration in every aspect of their relationship and grew in fame together. Hell, two of his albums were devoted to their two year long relationship and another for their ultimate demise. So, of course, when Madison left for good, so did his muse. For two years he had been clawing at his writer's block and caged heart with no avail.

Ezra hears Billie's damn laugh again and is brought back to the current moment with the brunette pressed up against him. Part of him doesn't want to admit the effect the blonde has on him. Billie makes him remember how to feel something besides nothing, though anger and lust are currently the only prevailing emotions she evokes.

He had been caught in a haze for what felt like years, but he could think clearly with the femme around. Ezra didn't like that notion one bit. Maybe he just needed to fuck her to get it out of his system. Hell, maybe her outward rejection and the current chase was all that interested him.

Truth be told, Ezra just couldn't depend on someone else again to make him feel like a person. It seemed like all his life he needed people to validate his existence. Maybe that's what was so disappointing about fame and his relationship with Madison. The more that people knew him, the less people wanted to.

His attention wanders aimlessly over to the femme still perched at the bar chatting it up with a few people. His vision trails down to her ass and the way her dress hugs every curve. Though he likes to get under her skin, he wasn't lying about wanting to get her out of her clothes tonight. The very thought of it causes an insatiable throbbing in his trousers, which sparks a sultry laugh from the brunette.

"You want me to take care of that?" She purrs, fingertips moving to grope him over his pants. Admittedly, he would like someone here to take care of it but Mandy, or whatever her name is, will have to do.

He nods, body shifting to guide her towards the exit. It takes everything in the male not to look in Billie's direction as they sift through the crowd. He can swear he feels a pair of green eyes burning a hole through the back of his head, but perhaps it's wishful thinking.

It seems as if Ezra always wished he was fucking someone other than the person he actually was with. Deep down he knows that Billie is just another distraction from his current heartbreak because, truthfully, the only person he's wishing he was with is Madison.

As they make their way to the suite, he still feels caught in the mental dilemma with the blonde. Though he would never admit it, she had gotten so deep in his head he isn't entirely sure what to think of their obvious attraction. Maybe that's why he finds her so intoxicating and infuriating all at once.

Once in his bedroom, the male move to remove his belt as the femme sprawls out on his bed. "Turn around," he commands. Ezra hadn't fucked someone face to face since Madison, and he refuses to start now. With that brown hair and those breathy mewls, it's easier to fantasize about her if he can't see their face. In that moment, he can pretend that Madison still wanted him and was still begging for his touch.

Ezra knows it's wrong, knows it won't change the hard truth that they would never go back to before that night they permanently ended things. She hated him now, just like everyone else. The one person in the world he so desperately loved and needed would rather him be dead.

But, with every thrust, he can pretend she's here with him. His fingertips dig into hips, eyes pressed shut to hold on to the mental image of Madison. He tries to focus on the way she'd hook around his waist or say his name over and over again. Admittedly, Ezra could go for hours like this, not out of stamina but out of pure disinterest for the body with him right now.

It seems as if he's only interested in the girls that don't want him. Though he's rather full of himself, it's no secret that most any girl would fuck him if given the opportunity. He could tell a thousand lies, show clear disinterest, not even remember their names, and they'd still bend over his bed if given a chance. Well, most girls would, but not Billie.

"Ezra," the girl moans, and for a moment, he hears someone else. The way it rolls off her tongue doesn't sound like Madison, and it startles him.

All he can hear now is 'I'm not one of your fans,' and it nearly drives him crazy. The way she held that cigarette between her pillowy brims and let her eyes trail over the tattoos adorning his chest. Fuck. The way she pulled at that dress that barely covered any of her long, slender legs, and how he desperately wanted to taste and feel what's between them.

He's on the brink of ecstasy, his pace quickening as his grip tightens. A groan escapes his lips as he mentally peers into those green eyes and loses all control. A name is on the tip of his tongue with his release, and it takes everything within him not to let it slip out. He tries to control his breaths, chest heaving up and down as he pulls out of the girl. His eyes flutter open, reorienting himself with the landscape of the room. Though the fantasy is over, one name is running through his head like a prayer.

Billie. Billie. Billie.