Welcome to The New Classic, where the past and the present merge, to form a new future.
Once that no one can see coming...
Join Angelo, Vanessa and the rest of the gang three and a half long years after that fateful night.
Lo kept count. V didn't...
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We posses more than five senses.
Outside of what was primary to the human experience, there were other things our bodies perceived.
Balance, the ability to sense temperature and even something as intrinsic as knowing where all of your limbs are, in relation to another.
There's so many things that our bodies did, just to keep us alive.
But there was something really special that happened when those senses were used in ways they weren't intended to be.
And there was nothing natural about the club.
An environment that was artificially darkened, only to be artificially lit up again, with music pulsing into the air from speakers the size of a grown man. A place where the price of alcohol was massively inflated, but its potency watered down.
Here was a place in which people came to celebrate or commiserate; to hunt and to be hunted; to lose themselves or to be more conscious of themselves than ever.
Unshackled from the confines of societal norms, we consume more space, and demand more attention. We get closer to each other in a bid to seek freedom through bodily expression, together.
Lust was a currency that went even longer than the dollar here.
Sure, a few thousand of them put together could buy you a table and a few bottles to put on it.
But being sexy as hell not only granted you entry into this space for free, it could give you a first pick of which table to sit at.
And now imagine what it was like for those who existed at that intersection?
She who was desired by all, but afforded by none.
She could sit anywhere, but instead she used her means to create her own space.
A section full of girls, who were letting loose as much as they were guarding each other.
It was almost like an ecosystem, in with each member worked to protect everyone else. No skirt was left ridden up, and no nip-slip made it to the eyes of the predators. Drinks were being covered by the palm of one hand. The other was cupped around the ear of her neighbour, so that she could hear whatever compliment her once-stranger-now-best-friend was paying her.
The jeers and cheers of the crowd increased in tandem with the rate at which ass was being shook, which drowned out the sounds of male advances being squarely rejected.
Vanessa had found herself in the eye of the storm, as the instigator of it all.
Her request for all of the bad bitches in the house to gather in her section hadn't been one popular with the men, but it made for an evening of fun.
