Chapter 3: The Club and the Changeling

I go home and change into a midnight blue, off the shoulder, long sleeve cocktail dress and cream flats. I pull my hair up into a ponytail and check myself for as briefly as I could to make sure I look good before putting on ‘Rich Rosewood’ lipstick, grabbing my clutch, and heading out of the door.

We met outside of ‘Charlie’s, the local club just down from my house. There was two girls other than me, Samantha and Jennifer.

Samantha was a leggy 5’9” brunette with ombré highlights making it look like her hair had just been painted . She was wearing a ruby red spaghetti strap tight mid-thigh dress and high heels. Samantha loved to get as much attention from the opposite gender as possible and she had the body to do it.

Jennifer, on the other hand, was shorter – under 5 ft tall. She also wore a mid-thigh dress but it was forest green and strapless. Her hair was dyed raven black, one side short and the other well beyond her shoulders.

I don’t know if it was my changeling pull, or the fact that Samantha’s boobs were about to fall out of her dress, but when we got to the front of the line the bouncer rushed us into the club. It was like we were under surveillance and he was our bodyguard.

Stepping through the black doors, laughing at a joke Jennifer had made, we stepped out into ‘Charlie’s’ we were overwhelmed by the pounding music coming from the huge speakers behind the DJ at the front of the room. Random strobe lights struck odd angles around the room and I couldn’t contain the smile creeping upon my face at the sight.

On the right side of ‘Charlie’s’ was where the bar resided, upon seeing it we all shared a look and then ignored the dance floor right in front of us and b-lined over there and luckily found three stools next to each other. 

Looking down a ways, I spotted the bartender already waiting on a group, so we started to talk about our work days while we waited to be served.

I love bartenders: way cheaper than a therapist, and if you don’t click with their personality you don’t feel like you’re trapped for an hour. You could also ramble about your crazy life and they just think you’re drunk and crazy – or crazy drunk. Dealing with my depressing life, I had been to quite a few therapists before finding the miracle of bar tenders.

I had only been here about 3 or 4 times before but this guy was new to me. He was of Asian decent and had round silver studs in his ears.

I was seated between my two chatty friends, which is exactly where I wanted to be as they were fine picking up guys and I would be happy being alone until the apocalypse; which still probably wouldn’t kill me. Ugh! Now do you see why I go to bars when I don’t drink?

We were just talking about our day when the bartender came and butted in, asking, “So, what would you ladies like?”

My eyes instantly go up to his bleached hair, which didn’t match his black goatee, not my preference. Shaking it off Jennifer jumped in with her order, “I’ll have a vodka martini, shaken not stirred, 2 olives, thanks.”

“I’ll have a strawberry daiquiri,” Samantha pipes in and then only I was left.

Great, okay, that was fast.

“I guess I’ll have a virgin piña colada.”

The bartender looks at me and smiles, “Coming right up.” He puts all the different liquids into the shaker bottle with a practiced ease.

Getting back to our conversation, Jennifer continued, “So like I was saying, nothing eventful happened today at work. Nothing interesting ever happens. I swear we have the most laid back job, to the point that it gets pretty boring.”

“Yeah, but sometimes boring can be better than having super crazy over 52 hour work weeks, like surgeons have. They hardly ever get to go out. Trust me I’ve been there,” the words are out before I realize I slipped out. The whole club goes silent, and everybody’s eyes are on me – okay, maybe it’s just Samantha and Jennifer but it does feel a lot more dramatic.

Luckily, the bartender saves me and puts our drinks in front of us, giving me time to think of the dumbest excuse, “I’m kidding obviously, if I had a doctorate do you think I’d be here?” I laugh it off and take a drink of my drink.

The bartender leans over the bar, “Those three over there,” he tilts his head in the direction of the three people he had been tending to before us, “paid for your drinks.”

Oh great, I haven’t even been here an hour. 

“Tell them thanks!” I say and give the best fake smile I can.

“Wait!…Des that’s not nice. Tell them they can come over,” Samantha says, waving them over.

“I’m going to end up dancing by myself aren’t I?” I snark, take a breath, and turn away from the bar, immediately bumping into the guys, “Wow! You move fast.”

The guy, by the looks of it, assigned to me, wasn’t half bad. He was the rare handsome with an actual personality, too bad I wasn’t looking for that. His swooping chestnut brown hair nearly covered his eyes. Man, he needs a haircut. I wonder if he can dance at all. If he looks this good standing here, how good would he look dancing? I should probably concentrate on what he’s saying, I think while sipping my piña colada.

“So that’s when I decided to move out here and start up a franchise here. So what’s your story?”

I choke on my drink, coughing and hitting my chest, “Sorry, went down the wrong tube. You know the story, went to art school and now I’m here working with art. Got my dream job, I guess.”

Leaning against the bar next to me he asks, “So, do you have any siblings?”

Wow. I hate small talk because of these kinds of questions, and answer quickly, “Yeah 4.” Putting down my drink and grabbing his hand, I stood up and started pulling him towards the dance floor.

“Can you dance?” I ask, linking our hands together.

With the muscles on him, he could definitely lift me, not that I weigh that much. But I am not going to miss the mix that the DJ is spinning – it sounds like a mix of ‘Party Rock’ and ‘Rhythm Nation’ which I didn’t even know was possible, but somehow sounds amazing.

Turning to look at his bright blue eyes and wide smile as we squeeze onto the dance floor, I ask, “So does that mean yes?”

“Yes, I can dance,” he raised a brow, and his smile grew cocky.

“Well you never know. Some white boys say they can but…” I click my tongue, “I guess we’ll just have to see then.”

I drop his hand and start bouncing to the music. He, I really wish I had listened to his name, gets right up next to me, not missing a beat. Okay maybe he can dance.

Grabbing my hand he spins me, leading into a dip, and stops inches before I drop to the ground. Bringing my body right up next to his, I spin so my back is to him. Grabbing my hips and moving to the music with me, keeping his hands on my hips as I spin to the music and then so down he grabs my hands moving me right left and then spinning me like a top, then yanking me up making me jump up in the air and then landing right in front of him, face to face.

Grabbing my face and leaning in I weaved to the left just missing his lips. “Hey, I’m going to head to the bathroom.” Pointing at the bathrooms towards the back of the room off to the side of the DJ knowing he probably wouldn’t hear me.

I could finally exhale when I hit the black doors leading to the bathroom, too bad I didn’t have my phone because there was absolutely nothing to do in there.

Leaning against the counter for awhile, I thought enough time had passed that maybe he had left or at least gotten the hint.

Pushing the two-way doors with my back, I didn’t see him until I literally ran right into him. Great, he didn’t get the message. “Lis-”

“Shhh! No need to talk,” he insisted while grabbing my arms around the shoulders and pushing me farther down the hall, before pinning me against the wall. 

Before I could say anything more he was kissing me, and hard. The more I tried to get away the tighter his grip would get, and when I tried to move my head he pushed it harder against the wall. Crap, what am I going to do because this is not happening and he did not just shove his tongue in my mouth.

Biting as hard as I could he pulled back just long enough for me to scream, brief as it was, but unless someone was close it wasn’t loud enough to be heard over the music. He was on me harder than before.

I try to get my knee up to hit him in the crotch but was unsuccessful – just when I start to panic, nothing was working, I feel the familiar sinking feeling in my gut. The pull.

I have never been so happy to have a changeling around as I am right now. I use the connection between us to try to put urgency and pull them closer to where I am. That’s when I saw him round the corner.

I looked him and tried to make a sound, but my mouth was being blocked again and any noise came out as muffled ‘mmm’s’. The stranger had picked a nice body. Buff, short haired brunette, tan and sauntered like no other because he was over to us in a matter of seconds.

Pulling the guy off of me. He only had seconds to be shocked and only got a ‘What the…’ out before the green-eyed beauty punched him, sending him flying to the end of the hall into the red emergency exit door, leaving him unconscious.

I looked up at him, “Thank you, so so much!” Relived I started hugged him, pulling away to looking at him realizing I just started hugging a stranger. “I…sorry about that, and thanks for helping me.” My cheeks seemed to be heating up from embarrassment, and I could only hope they weren’t red.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Anytime!” he said rubbing his neck, leaving us to walk down the short hall in awkward silence.

When we get to the end waving goodbye, we both go our separate ways and I literally run to my friends, who luckily have gotten rid of the two other guys. “Hey I’m going to take off. Are you guys ready to go?”

“Yeah, let’s get going.” Samantha says.

Jenifer then asked, “What happened with the dance guy?”

“Oh he got a little too handsy, so he found another girl. Which is fine with me.”

Finally getting them to go without telling them I’m in a rush in-case the guy wakes up we make it out the door. Once outside we hail a cab and get inside. I make sure both girls get to their residences before going home.

I walk into my condo, get a drink of water, brush my teeth, pull my ponytail out, empty my bladder and head straight to my pure white pillow top comforter. Once I hit the bed, I flop forward, my face hitting the mattress’s comfort the tears that I had been holding back, break through and it’s like Niagara Falls just got teleported onto my king size bed. I never want to feel that helpless again. “I’m done with scum!”

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