[EDITING]
It's been four years since we broke up, since I last saw him.
I am no longer the person I used to be. I have gained a reputation as the most formidable businesswoman, feared by many, devoid of smiles, and often labeled as ruthless and arr...
Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we're here, we should dance.
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"You brought me to a gay bar?" I exclaimed, my eyes shifting between Melina and the bustling atmosphere of the bar. It was difficult to believe that she had intentionally chosen a venue where men were freely enjoying drinks and grinding against each other on the dance floor. The realization of our surroundings sank in, and I couldn't help but feel a mix of surprise and apprehension.
Melina playfully wrapped her arm around my shoulder, flashing a mischievous smirk. "Babe, this is the perfect situation!" she exclaimed. "In a gay bar, we can let loose and get drunk without any hesitation, knowing that nobody will try to approach us. Let's make the most of it!" Her enthusiasm was contagious.
I couldn't help but find it ironic that a girl who strongly dislikes profanity had brought me to a club filled with rowdy, intoxicated men.
As she led us to the VIP section, she ordered tequila shots for both of us. "Oh, no thanks," I interjected, "I'll have vodka instead." The bartender responded with a charming smile, but I decided to brush it off and not engage further. I turned my attention to surveying the surroundings, and that's when I caught sight of familiar platinum hair. A frown briefly crossed my face, but I quickly shook my head, determined to let go of any negative thoughts.
Why would he be here at the first place?
"Here you go," the bartender said, presenting me with the drink. I turned around, facing him, and took a large sip. "What is such a beautiful woman doing here in a gay bar?" he inquired.
Flirting playfully, I responded, "Well, I could ask you the same, unless you're gay yourself." My words slipped out, and I realized I might be getting tipsy already. I took another sip, maintaining eye contact with him.
He chuckled in response, saying, "Had to be here for the job." I nodded, intrigued. "But you still didn't answer my question."
"Well, we all just wanted to have a good time, get drunk, and not wake up in someone else's bed," I answered honestly. The bartender nodded, seemingly understanding my sentiment. I turned my attention back to my friends, who were busy taking shots one after another, fully immersing themselves in the energetic atmosphere of the club.
I joined them and thought let's get over with this.
As the night progressed, the number of shots I had taken became a blur. The room began to spin, but it didn't matter. I found myself moving towards the dance floor, surrendering to the music's rhythm. In that moment, all my worries—my broken heart, stress, and anger—faded away. I danced sensually, allowing myself to be consumed by the sheer joy and freedom of the moment.
As I danced on the floor, I felt someone's hands on my hips, guiding our movements to the rhythm of the song. My mind instinctively urged me to push him away, but my body seemed to resist, moving in sync with his touch. Soon, he took my hands and gently pulled me away from the crowded dance floor.
