AMBROSIA

BRUSH WITH DEATH

Psyche stared at the sky, as she tried to tune out the pregnant silence that followed Ariadne's last question, "Did you love Justin?"
The moon was full and the stars were slowly disappearing as they approached the city.

Did she love him? Perhaps yes, in a way. Was she in love with him? No.

Psyche knew the answer but it was too difficult to explain to someone who does not view love with her notion. Justin was someone she laughed with, someone who was there when no one else was. She had gotten used to his presence and relied on the fact that his presence would be ever lasting, his attention would be only towards her. But in the end, it was just her with all her delusions.

Psyche knew loneliness, she had made peace with it because it was her forced companion over the years. All her life she read about love, and the one thing she was sure in the moment was that she was never in love with Justin at any point in her life.

Justin to her was just a faint memory that resurfaced today because of his physical presence. She didn't love Justin and she equally didn't care about his existence. No harm, no foul.

...


Detroit was bustling as always, the city sparkled with lights as far as the eyes could see.

"Alright, you listen to me, and you listen good"

Psyche shuffled in her seat as Ariadne geared for the pep-talk.

"I don't know what is your deal with Cana or Justin, but today is your day, you will be twenty four in less than two hours, and just look at you," Ariadne said waving her hand towards Psyche. "You look like a goddess, I say we get in the club, find you a decent guy and celebrate the day, we can start with...."

Psyche lost the train of thoughts after Ariadne complimented her.

Till now she was used to receiving compliments over her looks, but every time it made her a tiny bit uncomfortable, she never knew how to accept any compliments.

Psyche looked down at the dress she was wearing. It was wearing a shiny golden dress with sequins hanging by the hem and resting on her thighs.

She remembered being drawn to this dress in the dainty boutique in France, the dress was on display, and it sparkled like real gold against the sunlight. It was a brand Psyche never heard of, Parcae and when she entered the store a very familiar looking lady greeted her and told her that her dress was waiting for her.

" AND more importantly, let us avoid them at all cost," Ariadne got her attention as she raised her pitch suddenly to overpower the honking sounds.

"Thank you for everything," Psyche's voice was feeble as the emotions washed over her, " I don't know what I would..."

Ariadne reached over and hugged Psyche. No words were needed. She got her.

"Let us party!!" Ariadne gushed in her sing-song voice.

Psyche took a deep breath as she got out of the car, and suddenly, a chill ran down her spine, freezing her in place. She glanced around, her friend Ariadne making her way to the valet, completely unaware of the foreboding presence that seemed to envelop the air. Despite the throngs of people flocking to the club, it felt as if no one else could sense the thick, morbid doom surrounding them.

Her eyes were drawn to a red spectre glowing in the neon-lit alleyway, a pulsating beacon in the shadows. Against her better judgment, her feet started to move towards the eerie red orb, as if compelled by an unseen force. Each step she took heightened her sense of dread and anticipation.

Psyche felt her heartbeat quicken, a wave of skepticism and fear washing over her. She believed in omens, and she had never felt anything like this in her life. She continued to walk deeper into the alleyway, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any clue to the mysterious red light's source. The alley was empty, shrouded in shadows, with nothing to explain the spectral orb.

Her gaze fell to a puddle at her feet, where she saw the reflection of a symbol, Θ (Theta), glowing ominously. The symbol seemed to emanate from a red neon light above a weathered, crimson door at the end of the alley. Psyche rationalized that this must have been the cause of the mirage, something her mind had conjured in the eerie glow.

"PSYCHEEEE," Ariadne's loud noise startled her as she jerked in the place.

"Coming," her raspy voice echoed, with her fingers still pulsating from the eldritch touch, Psyche started walking towards the Ariadne.

Ariadne scanned her face as she closed the distance and Psyche plastered a fake smile shrugging her behaviour. They locked hands and made way to the club.
...

The inside of the club was red—too red. The overwhelming hue washed over Psyche as she stepped inside, her eyes struggling to adjust to the suffocating, crimson glow. Everything seemed to pulsate with an eerie, unnatural light, casting elongated shadows that twisted and writhed with the beat of the music. The red glow of the club blurred the lines between reality and fantasy, making the encounter feel both hyperreal and dreamlike.