Journey || Erik Durm

♀

CHARLOTTE:

 MARCO and I were aimlessly surfing through a metropolis when a wild succession of shrills erupted from his jean-clad pocket, radiating a familiar serenade. The label on his display revealed the infiltrator to be Erik, who, upon speaking with Marco and I, requested that him and us spend the rest of the night in a bar.

"A bar?" I gasped, my eyes exploring Marco's anticipating face.

"I can't say no to Erik, Lotte. Maybe we can stop by for a few minutes and get out of there?"

Although I questioned why anyone would possibly wish to go to such a place at near midnight, it dawned on me that the notorious Erik Durm had made the request, so I let it go. "Well, okay," I drawled hesitantly. "I guess it won't hurt."

"There's always an alternate. I can drop you off at the diner and we'll call it a night."

A genuine smile fashioned on my face as I slid my fingers around Marco's, entwining the two. "Marco," I breathed, softly squeezing his hand. "It's okay. I promise."

The corners of his lips molded into a smile of their own. "Shall we go then?"

"We shall," I answered, and thus we hailed a taxi and embarked on a journey to Carolyn's diner to retrieve Erik. He leaned against the diner's doors, fiddling with the metal of his keychain as he awaited our arrival.

Marco unrolled the windows of the rundown cab and called out for Erik-to which he replied by raising his head-and soon enough, there was an extra presence in the car, existing beside me.

I remained wedged between two boys, each of my thighs pressed against their own as the car regained motion. Erik smoothly enunciated the address of the club to the driver and in a few minutes, loud music blared into my ears, signalling our arrival.

A midnight breeze streamed in through the unrolled windows as the car skidded into a stop, caressing my exposed skin, and I soon began to shiver, but Marco wrapped his arms around my shoulders, maintaining the gesture even after we slid out of the car.

Erik shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt as Marco and I traipsed onward, trapped in the heat of each other's embraces. My shivering eventually diminished as the steady warmth of Marco's body registered on my own.

"Charlotte," Erik eventually said as we neared the door. "You have an i.d. that says you're over twenty one, right?"

I bit my lip as I hesitantly shook my head.

"No?" he asked, his eyes widening.

We walked into the valet of the dusky nightclub, situated off of a beaten boulevard. "I'm nineteen," I answered hesitantly, my voice drowning amongst the somnolent cacophonies arising from the inside.

"Fuck," Erik cussed. "You're not old enough to get in. But seriously, you're only nineteen? God, you're a still a child."

A pool of blood surged into my face. "I'm not a child!" I argued, pouting.

"Marco's a year away from being marked a pedophile," Erik remarked, and I simply rolled my eyes, placing a sloppy kiss on Marco's cheek.

"Marco's perfect," I murmured into his shaven skin, speaking in his defense.

We reached the entrance as my words drew an end, where a security guard stood, barricading the insides-consisting of buzzes of drone-line chatter and a brutal vibration-from reckless adolescents and the impaired.

Although Erik had somehow convinced me that I would have difficulty getting in, we briskly walked into the joint without troubles, where the three of us were assaulted by the intermingled smell of sweat and alcohol. I inhaled deeply-wrong move on my behalf-my hand nervously digging Marco's as Erik led us past crowds of people indulged in bizarre affairs, stopping abruptly upon reaching a bar.