Stupid Little Bubble

101 9 13
                                    

TW// Mention of Death

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TW// Mention of Death

LESS THAN AN hour later, we'd all changed out of our airport clothes and into something a bit more suitable for club life. I was dressed in a pair of black leather pants and a sheer button-up shirt, completely showing my bare chest. It was a bit of a different look for me, but Robyn and Hayley assured me it'd look good. So I let them dress me up and tried to ignore that heavy feeling in my chest that only seemed to grow.

We get past the guards pretty easily, all of us having a fake ID at the ready. Really, only Hayley and Roman were the ones old enough to be in the club, but nobody seemed suspicious of us.

The place was packed with bodies on top of bodies dancing to the sound of techno music. Blue and purple lights filled up the room and there was a light sort of energy inside like all these people wanted was to have a good time. I hoped it would rub off on me as Hayley ordered rounds of shots to our burgundy red booth in the back.

She hands one to Roman who shakes his head softly, before glancing over at me. "Somebody's gotta be the designated driver, right?" he says, a teasing glint in his eye. I wonder why he didn't just tell Hayley he didn't drink. Since they were suddenly besties of the year.

Roman looked all too good tonight, dressed in a patterned jean jacket with matching jeans and a white undershirt underneath. I'd overheard Hayley gushing about it during the car ride over--apparently he'd painted it himself. Roman's eyes catch me checking him out, an eyebrow raised in question.

I turn my head and slam a shot down my throat, loving and hating the way it burnt my tongue as it goes down. I grab another and slam it back again, my hands already reaching for a third when another hand grabs mine. Devin. "Slow down," he murmurs. "Sloppy drunk isn't a good look on you."

I glare at him. "You've never seen me sloppy drunk. And I can hold my liquor, thank you very much."

"Trust me, B. I've seen you sloppy drunk," he laughs. "And you always regret it in the morning. Anyways, I can tell that something is wrong. Are you okay?"

I shake my head quickly, glancing over at Roman and Hayley who were both laughing at something. Devin catches the look and nudges my shoulder. "What is it? He do something? Do I need to cave his face in?"

I laugh softly, the mental image of Devin trying to take on Roman, a bonafide boxer, hilarious to me. Devin was intimidating, sure, but he had nothing on Roman in that factor. "He didn't do anything. There's nothing wrong; I'm all good."

I hear a soft giggle and turn my head to see Roman and Hayley both standing and walking over to the dance floor. The two fit into the crowd immediately, dancing around the music as their bodies press into one another's. A small sound of indignation leaves my throat. I shove out of Devin's hold and swallow back my third shot as he gives me a disappointed glance.

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