Moonstruck

Chapter One | "Dance With Me?"

I can't believe I'm here.

I sip my drink, glancing around the neon-lit basement room, feeling every moment more and more like an animal in a cage. The room is filled practically to the brim, yet somehow people are still filing in, trickling down the staircase at the far end of the room. I'm not convinced this isn't some kind of a fire hazard or something, cramming this many drunk, rowdy people into the basement of Club Renegade. The crowd feels suffocating, especially with the heavy electronic music pounding in my ears. The bass is so heavy, it feels like it almost has a physical form, filling up every crack in the room that people haven't yet squeezed themselves into. It's loud- too loud.

And yet not loud enough to drown out my nerves.

Monday, Monday, Monday. Why did you agree to this.

I take another sip, wincing. Ugh. Vodka. Nasty. I'm kicking myself more and more as every moment passes. I shouldn't have let Renee drag me out tonight... shouldn't have let her buy me a drink... shouldn't have let her hold my ticket in her purse and made it so I can't even sneak out for a breath of fresh air without getting stuck outside... Shouldn't, shouldn't, shouldn't.

I had been fully prepared to spend my night the way I usually do: At home, curled up in bed with my record player rolling. Maybe I'd have a beer if I were feeling particularly wild. I was content with that plan- until my roommate, Renee, had come in guns-blazing, brimming over with excitement over her sudden acquisition of two free tickets to some big DJ performance tonight.

"You never come out with me!" She'd said, waving the tickets in my face. "Come on, Monday, I'll cover the taxi there, I'll buy you drinks. I just want some company."

I should have said no.

Truthfully, I only came out tonight because I felt guilty blowing her off. Renee and I might not have that much in common, but she's sweet, one of those bold, open-hearted people who just drips sunshine when she speaks.

Whereas I'm just... well. I scan the crowd again, sighing to myself. More of a, uh, rainy-day-total-downpour kind of person, I guess.

Renee and I get along fine as roommates. We've spent some fun nights binging TV shows or watching movies, but devoid of an activity to do together, we don't really have much to talk about. In the eight months we've been roommates, she's extended multiple invitations for me to come out with her. I've declined every one. But every time I do, like clockwork, she puts on the most sad-puppy look I've ever seen, practically hanging her head as she leaves my room. It's impossible not to feel guilty.

That's why I finally just sucked it up and said yes. Faced with her standing in my doorway, free tickets in hand, brimming with joy and begging me to come...

Well. I'm not a monster.

Amplifying my guilt is the fact that I didn't know Renee before we became roommates. I don't really know anyone in Benton, actually. I never really had friends in my hometown, and the few people I connected with back in college drifted away as soon as we graduated. I know I should be thrilled she's trying to be my friend at all, especially given that for months I've denied every invitation she's extended me. I suppose I shouldn't push away the one person who's actually making an effort to get to know me, to bring me places.

I sip my drink. Ugh.

I'm sure I would have felt guilty denying her invitation, but that doesn't mean I'm having a good time. As soon as we walked down the stairs and into the club Renee had forcibly dragged me out into the crowd, all the way to the center of the floor where the throng of people were thickest. I'd spent over an hour sandwiched between Renee, carelessly dancing with a huge grin on her face, and a pair of sweat-soaked, shirtless guys who only had eyes for each other, but seemed totally unaware of their surroundings and way too drunk to be out in public.