A Match Made In Hell

Chapter 7: The 69th Floor

Sorry for not updating, but for an excuse, I give you a super long chapter!

Love, Rey

Tam POV

Alvar's turquoise eyes searched the room, and then settled on us. I wasn't in Keefe's lap anymore, but since we were both very...very EMBARRASSED that something might've almost just happened that both our cheeks were lollipop red.

"Who're they?" Ruy peeked his head over Alvar's shoulder. "Oh. Hey Tam. Hey Keefe."

"Wait, you guys live here!?" I exclaimed.

"Uh, this is weird." Alvar chuckled to himself, "We don't live here."

"Yeah. It's more like..." Ruy scratched his head. "We should probably just show them, right?"

"Well, it's easier than explaining." Alvar debated, then turned back to us two, "You guys like to party right?"

. . . . .

"So, you turned my house into a nightclub." Keefe stated, astonished by what he was seeing.

Whatever used to be level 69 ("Really mature, guys" - Keefe), was gone and replaced by a huge rainbow colored dance floor and five big disco balls, and hundreds of neon lights dangling from the roof that seemed to go up for floors and floors. There was a bar, a restaurant, a clothing store, basically a nightclub with a mall inside of it.

"No, it's a gay nightclub." Ruy corrected, "Me and Alvar run it. Basically all the queer elves go here when they have nowhere else to go and just party themselves out."

"That's cool. You also know that you don't own Candle Shade and could get in huge trouble for having this, right?" I asked, trying to yell over the music.

"Well, sometimes you have to make a little trouble." Alvar shrugged.

"Yeah, but this is a LOT of trouble." I added.

"What? The music's too loud." Keefe yelled.

"Let's go into the meeting room." Alvar suggested. "Follow me."

We made a beeline through the dance floor, but it was a hard route to travel. Multiple bumped into me and almost made me knock over, but Keefe was really in trouble. A boy had hooked his arm into his and pulled him into a dance. Of course, Keefe is a natural-born dancer and he was totally into it, until the guy started getting handsy. His face turned red and I felt super mad (for no reason whatsoever because why should I be mad?), so I walked up to the guy.

"Hey dude, I'm trying to dance here." Drunk. So drunk.

"He doesn't seem to appreciate the way you were dancing with him." I said, swallowing a lump in my throat. I had to be brave.

"He can talk for himself, right babe?" He looked over my shoulder (well, it wasn't hard he was super tall).

Keefe had a calm expression on his face, like nothing happened, "Tam, it's fine-"

"No it's not. Drunk people don't get to harass kids. It's a law," I added under my breath, "Most likely." I then continued, "You're just a pathetic weakling who doesn't have control over himself and drinks to escape the inescapable reality of his depressed life."

A moment of silence.

"Woah." Keefe awes, probably because I never do anything to stand up for anyone unless they're special to me. Like Linh. I mean, Keefe's not special to me or anything, that's a stupid assumption.

"Okay whatever, dickhead." The man eases away into the crowd, as Alvar, shocked, waves for us to follow them once again.

We travel behind the bar, ("Aren't we minors?" I asked, and Keefe responded with a wink, "They don't need to know that,") and into a back room that led down a narrow hallway.