SOUNDTRACK SERIES vol 1 [oneshots compilation]

Unholy - Sam Smith ft. Kim Petras

Chaos.

There are a lot more fitting words to describe what Lisa is seeing, but that was the first thing that came to mind and was never quite leaving. There were bodies upon bodies inside that godforsaken bar, all of them lost in their own little created world. Some dancing, some practically having sex, some...well, maybe they are already having sex.

Lisa feels overdressed in her unstyled blonde hair and little black dress, her staple for any event she didn't know what to expect. The amount of skin that is flashing in her eyes is making her uncomfortable of her own, but Rosé distracts her when Lisa feels a pull of her arm.

"We'll go there," Her friend motions to a miraculously empty booth, and they both try to wade through the crowd. Lisa squirms at the bodies she had to dodge around, and she can feel the heat of their skin on hers. They feel different; they smell different: they smelled of lust and sexuality and, maybe even to a degree, freedom.

It makes her uneasy, to be presented with this much unrestraint.

It feels powerful. She isn't sure she likes it.

The bar is mostly dark colours, but something about it feels staunchly feminine. The reds—are very bordeaux and remind her of pulsating blood–drape around the place, along with the way some chairs are curved to entice, or the walls gothic in their black swirls and hints of red.

Scorpio , Lisa registers. Like someone thought a vampire's den could be sexy and let a broody designer get away with it. It fits, if anything. Nothing in there is overtly ostentatious; the women in the bar aren't loud but are scheming and entwined in their negronis and zinfandels, the music is heavy with bass and sultry tones, the fixtures reek of money. But the whole of it is overwhelming and almost promises to eat your soul alive.

The Body Shop , Rosé whispered to her once. You have to see it. But it has to be our little secret.

Lisa isn't sure what she said yes to, but now that she's here she's sure she made a mistake, but just as soon as the reserved sign was removed from their table and Rosé is instantly served a tall order of gin, she realises this has become her friend's comfort place–a regular, if you will. For why she needs to be a regular in The Body Shop–a den that promises all your desires to come true according to the dim-lit neon signage in cursives on the hall–Lisa probably will not understand just yet, but it's starting to promise to be a night of sin and debauchery if anything.

"What will you have?" Rosé asks in her ear. Lisa shrugs, reluctant to engage further in this idea.

"Can you get her a tall Chivas highball, please?" Rosé orders from a waitress. Her friend has a lot more patience for her than she gives her credit for, and while she trusts her, she admittedly knows Rosé can get into very sticky situations and one day it might just backfire on them.

Lisa hopes tonight wouldn't be that day, and as soon as her drink arrives, she takes a sip and realises the high alcohol content of her usual drink. Oh lord, she hopes tonight really wouldn't be that day.