what we crave

Fraser Reid

The music was a low sultry beat, the kind of music that made Jezebelle think of slow dramatic kisses, snakes sliding across a cold marble ballroom floor, or water trickling down a sharp glass window, leaving it's tracks in the foggy condensation.

She descended the flight of stairs, which were sticky with Jack Daniels, the music growing louder with each step, golden platform heels clacking on the newly polished wood, spreading a deep smile across her face.

Oh, how Jezebelle adored the sound of  high heels.

Red plastic cups littered the lounge floor, or at least, what she thought was the lounge floor. It was hard to tell with all the pulsing party lights sending shadows across the crowded space, the haunting music making it hard to concentrate.

Her fellow party goers swung their hips in time to the beat, held their arms up in the fluorescent lights, sloshed their liquor all over their skin tight dresses and  dark Levi jeans.

This was Jezebelle's kind of place.

She had been excited for this party for about a fortnight, the so called "party of the month" at leonsbill high. Saying she would have been stupid to not attend would be an enormous understatement, for it really was the party of the month.

Not that Jezebelle had actually been to many party's in the past year since she and Daniel broke up. She'd just started to get back into it in the past two months.
But she didn't want to think about that.

Shaking her head to clear the memories, Jezebelle slithered passed the dancers, to the makeshift bar at the back. It consisted of a thick plank of oak wood for a counter, smaller pieces of wood for side boards, and at the back, inside, a minibar fridge placed expertly next to an ice dispenser and beer taps. The bar was well stocked,  she must admit, with booze to suit anyone's taste.

But she didn't feel that anything too intoxicating just yet would be a very smart choice.

Jezebelle beckoned over a short dark skinned 'bartender' and he immediately rushed over at the site of a gorgeous blonde girl wearing a short red dress.

"And what will it be for you, darling?" He yelled comically over the dominant music.

"um... do you have any so-"

A deep voice interrupted her half-hearted plea for soda.

"She'll have a tequila sunrise, thank you,"

Jezebelle spun around in surprise as a brown haired guy with sparkling mischievous green eyes slapped a twenty down on the man made counter top, his face lighting up with a toothy grin.

"Fraser Reid," he lent in to say.
"And you are?"