From Aliya to Hafiz

Two.

Hafiz.

The fluorescent lights.

The screams and shouts.

The booming music resonated with my heartbeat.

The drunks stumbling and bumbling about like headless chickens.

Everything about the scene playing out in front of me is all shades of distasteful and tiring.

The lights gave me a headache; too flashy.

The screams and yells also gave me a headache; too damn shrill and grating.

The music? Worse. It gave me a fucking migraine.

And the drunks are even more terrible. If they weren't rubbing up against me then they were leaning in close and stinking up my airways.

Fucking annoying.

I had never seen the appeal of clubs. It was all noise and more noise. And the occasional hand-raping.

Damn irritating.

So then why I was here, spending my weekend in a place I absolutely hated?

Well socializing for one.

It was like an unspoken agreement where all the heirs of the top families in the country would meet up in Carlos every Saturday for networking and connections.

You know, because since my circle started coming here and there are a lot of people who want to bootlick and kiss our asses, it sort of became a hang-out spot for the elites of the country.

And like there was nothing wrong with knowing more people in the business world. You never knew who could help you out of a pinch. So we were cordial towards those lower than us, but they weren't worthy to be called acquaintances.

They were too down there.

And we were way up here.

So anyway, we met here, in this distasteful club, to make connections and socialise. But you know what? I call bull.

Why?

Well, obviously the beautiful willows walking around with their sceneries letting out soft and fragrant breezes.

Simply put sexy women in skimpy dresses.

There were asses and boobs everywhere you looked, women of different shapes and proportions and colours. So I say the reason they all gathered here was because of the chicks.

Or maybe the chicks gathered here because of the abundance of eligible bachelors? Hoping to pick up one to marry and enjoy the life of a rich man's wife?

Pathetic, but practical.

As far as life goals went, it could be considered one.

But in my opinion, the one thing they all had in common was gathering here to get a good fuck.

And that was the only good thing about clubs, I could sleep with as many women as I wanted with no strings attached.

And that was amazing.

Soft arms wrapped around my waist and a bouncy weight settled against my bicep. "Babe, you're zoning out on me."

I looked to my right, meeting with electric green eyes, made even greener by what chicks called a smokey eye, filled with a slutty smile.

"What?" Bailey raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. Her nose was pert and lips plump, the overall set of her facial features were pretty enough. And paired with a round face, she looked both sexy and cute; a deadly combination for men.