PULSE [H.S]

072

When something feels off, it is. — Abraham Hicks

The club is dark.

The darkness consumes me as the group of us walk inside. Harry keeps his hand firm on my waist, pulling me into him as we walk, like he's afraid if he lets me go, he'll never see me again.

There's varying lighting that breaks up the darkness. Neon lights are moving around the room like lasers, and there's even light on the floors so you can see the walkway.

It's a mass of moving bodies. The dance floor is jam packed with people dancing and making out to the loud beat of the music. Scattered around the dance floor are circular stages with a metal pole in the middle of them, illuminated by bright neon pink and purple spotlights. Dancing on the poles are women dressed in hardly anything.

I follow everyone around the edge of the room and to a staircase leading to the second floor. A bouncer greets them like they're friends and lets us all pass. When we get to the top of the stairs, it's slightly less loud and a lot less congested. There's a separate bar up here, and there's seating in lounges that overlook the main dance floor.

"Why do you meet him here?" I ask Harry as we walk.

He says, "It's his club, the only place he'll do business."

"What time do you have to meet him?" I say.

His hand on my waist tightens even more as we pass a group of men, looking absolutely plastered. Harry's protective nature is endearing, and I never mind being pulled close to him.

He says, "It's usually an hour or so before he's ready."

We all settle down in one of the lounge areas next to a glass railing with a clear view of everything happening downstairs. There's three couches with a fancy coffee table in the middle.

Harry takes the seat closest to the balcony, and I slide in next to him. Everyone else files in on the other couches. It's almost creepy that people can sit up here and watch everyone else.

A waiter brings a tray of drinks over to us, setting them down on the table. Niall yells, "That's what I'm talking about!"

Everyone takes a drink, but Harry doesn't move to grab one. I turn to look at him, and he says, "I need a clear head tonight, baby. You can have a drink."

I grab one of the drinks, not even knowing what it is. When I take a sip, I realize it's a margarita, and it's really good. Harry puts his hand on my leg, the contact making my skin tingle.

"This place is cool," I say to him.

The dancers are so impressive. I'm in awe of them. The amount of strength that it takes to do what they're doing is insane. They have to be mentally and physically strong to be able to do a job like this.

Harry says, "Yeah? You like strippers?"

"The female body is a work of art," I say. His green eyes bore into mine, the color of them breaking through the dimly lit area. I say, "It's meant to be appreciated."

I've never heard of this club before, which surprises me considering it's only a few blocks from the apartment. It's definitely not a place I would've ever come if it weren't for Harry bringing me.

Niall gets everyone's attention by saying, "Who wants to play spin the bottle?"

Louis says, "Are we in middle school?"

"Hey," Niall says, putting his hands up in defense. He says, "I wanted to see Kiz and Clove make out."

Everyone shakes their heads at him as he once again lets his inner frat boy break through. Clove says, "Pervert. But I'd kiss you anytime, Kiz."