Late Night Out

*11pm*

11pm.

Silence.

You know the kind I'm talking about? The one where you block out all sound until it's quiet enough for you to hear your own heartbeat? It's all that fills my ears right now in this dark alleyway.

Cassie and I are crouched down behind some rusty, old metal trash cans. In the distance are the shouts of angry strangers; gang members if you will. There is much hidden in the shadows of Manhattan, New York City late in the evening.

My best friend brought me here to see if we could gain access to Pink, a local and exclusive night club. She showed up at my apartment door whipping out two fake IDs. Here I thought that we were just going to have a casual girl's night out; I was wrong. At first I looked at her quizzically as if she'd lost her mind, but then without a word she yanked me out the door and off we went. Typically I'd be locked up in my stuffy room studying until I dropped dead because of sleep deprivation. Luckily it was a Friday night so it turns out that Cassie had some common sense in that loosely packed brain of her's. Right now, I wish I was still in my little cubicle surrounded by my hurricane of homework and reading a good novel to kill time.

Our breathes come out in cloudy, white puffs. Neither of us attempts to break the silence in case someone lurking in the shadows happens to catch onto our voices.

How did we end up here you may ask? Well, those bouncers that check IDs are top notch I tell you. They're experienced and can recognize a false intel once they inspect it. If you trigger their suspicions, you're screwed. But it just so happens that my friend here who is huddled beside me is a huge flirt. Let's just say that she was willing to use her special talents to renew our entrance passes after our little debacle with the security guard.

You can be assured that the club named, "Pink" really does live up to its name. Neon pink walls that encased me from side to side, strobe lights illuminated the dance floor, music blasted my eardrums to the limit; I felt pretty nauseous. We had just made our way to the bar after picking ourselves apart from the enormous dancing crowd. For the next couple of minutes my cheek was being squished by the heel of my hand while I stared into outer space. Cassie on the other hand was sipping on an order of scotch. I swore to myself that I would stay sober tonight, every night really.

"Cass," I prod her shoulder with my index finger. She slowly turns her head towards me and that's when I knew she'd be a bit tipsy.

"Yes," she drawls out.

"Let's go," I grabbed my phone out from my jean pocket, "It's almost eleven and you need to drop the drinks." Not only that but my was head buzzing with paranoia. The music might have contributed to it, but it was as if a sixth sense was kicking in.

Her head lolled back with boredom to my words, "It's a Friday night; loosen up a bit."

Sensing some sort of dramatic build up of danger that could only lead to trouble I tug a little harder on her arm. "Something bad is about to go down in here and we didn't exactly enter legally," I hiss accusingly.

At first all I get in response is a blank face and I am controlling the need to facepalm myself for not realizing already that she's probably numbed out all abilities to think straight. I tap my foot impatiently against the bar stool waiting for an adequately acceptable reply.

Shrieking promptly pierces my ears which are so sensitive thanks to the deafeningly blaring music. The source of that horrific noise is my best friend who is right now in a horrible state. Never knew a couple glasses of alcohol could knock out all common sense from her so easily. Hysterical is how I would sum up her current condition; she's totally lost it.