My Girl

30 | danger

My mind tells me to trust what Jasmine said to me a while ago, that there should be nothing to worry about, that I should just wait for Cal in his apartment. But now, here I am, parking my car in front of Wily Dragon bar.

I close my car door, and my gaze darts on the cursed building. Chills run down my spines when the night breeze blows through my skin. After learning about what's going on in this place, the fear I have every time I enter this bar doubles.

I ball my fist on my side and braces myself to push through the door. Once I'm inside, I swallow, my eyes traveling around the dim-lit bar occupied with men and a few girls entertaining them at particular tables. Most of them drinking, some of them laughing boisterously without any care for the world. The smell of smokes from the cigarettes attacks my nostrils, and I instantly feel nauseous.

The memory of meeting Cal here for the first time flashes back in my mind again, and I can't help but think how crazy I was. Why would I stay here alone that night, knowing how horrible this place was? Cal's voice and performance must have hypnotized me that much.

Tears start to well up in my eyes. My parents are right. I've been blinded by him, even since the very first time we met.

I approach the bartender, the same one I encountered when I first saw Jasmine here. "Hey," I call, and she turns to me after placing two tequilas on the counter for the customers. "Have you seen Cal?"

My eyes scan the stage, which is empty. Indeed, they have finished performing, and I hope that this girl here can tell me where to find him so that I don't have to lurk around this horrible place alone.

My stubbornness insists that I shouldn't tell Cal that I'm here yet, because I want to find out what happens myself.

Unfortunately, the girl just shrugs, giving me an annoyed look that my heart sinks. Slowly, I step further inside the bar, pulling my jacket closer to my body to keep myself warm from the cold atmosphere surrounding this place.

My heart is beating fast when I approach the stairs. My instinct tells me that something horrible has been going on upstairs for a long time. They wouldn't be stupid enough to do whatever they want to do with the drugs on the ground floor.

"Hey, what are you doing?" A guy with brown hair calls me before I can walk up the stairs. "I haven't seen you around. Are you new?" A frown touches his lips when he scrutinizes me. His big arms are full of tattoos.

I don't know why he suddenly acts like a security, but I know for sure that I'm not going to stop.

"My boyfriend is upstairs," I say, and his frown grows deeper.

His eyes scan me from head to toe, and the way they roam my body makes me shudder. When his gaze darts back on my face, a sly smirk creeps on his lips. His eyes darken. "Let me know if he dumps you, because I would gladly take his place."

I'm at a loss for words, mostly because I'm disgusted. Since I'm not interested to continue the discussion with this guy, I turn away and proceed upstairs. The last thing I hear him say to me is, "Nice ass."

My legs almost wobble with every step I take on the stairs. I can't believe that I'm doing this, tottering on such dangerous ground. Somehow, I have a feeling that what I'll find upstairs will be worse than my imagination.

Once I arrive on the second floor, goosebumps appear on my skin. Just as I thought, this place is a whole lot creepier at night. It's not only the dim-lit, almost dark corridor that bothers me, but also the faint noises of people whimpering that reach my ears even though I can't see them.

My legs are shaking as I walk down the corridor. Doors are closed around me, but I know that people are there, whispering, talking to each other. I can hear the sound of them sniffing, and I shut my eyes, bracing myself to continue walking.

I stop in my track as I turn around the corner. There, a girl is being fucked against the wall. Her breathless moans echo as the guy pounds into her. I snap my head away from them and look down.

I encounter a random girl sitting on the floor and halt. She stares at me with wonder. She has long blonde hair, like me. Her eyelids are half-closed. She looks intoxicated.

"Hey," she croaks. "Are you okay? You look lost."

It's ironic that she's asking me whether I'm okay or not, while her condition is far worse than mine.

I let out a shaky breath and proceed to the end of the corridor, knowing the one place I should check. The band studio.

Dad's angry face and the sight of Mom crying flash back in my mind, and I swallow a lump in my throat. I'm doing the exact thing that they fear the most. Maybe I deserve their wrath.

I'm sorry Mom, Dad.

The tears that have formed in my eyes threaten to fall, but I have to keep going. I need to face this, no matter how scary and heartbreaking it would be.

I take a deep breath, turn the doorknob, and step into the studio.

My eyes immediately land on Zavier, Aaron, and Damien sitting on the floor. Each of them has a glass pipe in their mouth. Zavier is leaning back against the wall, his gaze shifted to me as soon as I open the door.

My breath hitches, and my pulse quickens. They're smoking crack cocaine.

Despite the fear of being around them here while they're consuming drugs, relief washes over me. Cal isn't here. He's not with them.

Zavier smirks, watching me with interest. "What are you doing here?"