Spats & Spines ➯ Memaengg

Prologue

Will

The air feels musky and damp against my skin and my eyes have trouble adjusting to the sudden loss of brightness as I try to smoothly navigate my way around the crowd that has formed close by the entrance of the nightclub. The stench of cheap booze and the sugary-sweet aerosol mist of vapes fills my nostrils so obtrusively, I'm surprised it doesn't set my nose hairs on fire and I consider burning my clothes instead of washing them when I'm back home.

Everywhere I look there's a scarcely dressed woman, clumsily dancing to and though quite missing the beat, and an intoxicated man with no manners and too much confidence for his plain looks not far off.
The music is fortunately drowning out their drunk lulls and poor attempts at flirting, blaring from the speakers as if the DJ has made it his personal mission to wake half of London tonight, using bad EDM-Remixes of hits from the 2000s. With a distorted version of Kellis' Milkshake playing, I make my way towards the bar that is located at the far end of the club. Blue and green lights illuminate the ceiling and help me to make it across the dancefloor without bumping into anyone throwing it back, heading straight for one of the stools cramped along the counter.
It's more than just an effort to get the attention of the bartender, something I am not used to. When more people than you have neither the time, nor the inclination to count, crawl up your ass daily, it feels quite unfamiliar, aswell as refreshing to have to almost bend over backwards just to get a drink from a bartender that looks like he's had one too many himself.
After a calculated catching of his eyes and strategic raising of eyebrows that commonly translates to "Come over here and fix me a drink, I'm desperate" , I am finally granted a Negroni with too much ice and too little gin. Fabulous.

However, glad for anything that keeps my hands busy, I turn around on the stool and scan the room. My eyes have now adjusted to the dim light and hazy atmosphere as I let them wander around the crowded space, eager to find exactly what I came here for. And it doesn't take me long to locate the ginger shock of hair among the mass of sweaty and unfortunately moving dancers. She is sitting at the bar aswell, right next to the dance floor and way across, her face and most of her figure covered from me by men too old to be hitting up the young girls they're trying to buy drinks for and women that may be nice on the eyes but that I take no particular interest in. At least not tonight.
I lean back in my seat to improve my view, resting my elbows against the counter and take a good look at her. Long ginger curls fall down her back, tickling the pale arms that are stiffly clutched to her upper body. I let my gaze run along them and notice the way her hands are resting in her lap, fingers picking at the fabric of her dark green dress. Her fingertips are already covered in green glitter and I swear I almost spot a bald, pale green patch in her dress, right where her fingers are taking it apart.
She is nervous.
Good.

To confirm my theory, I fix my look on her face. Thick fair eyebrows knitted together just slightly. Full lips puckered and gaze lowered on an untouched drink, her lashes dusting a faint shadow across her freckled cheeks. This woman isn't nervous. She is terrified.
Good.
I take a swig of my drink, the ice having melted already, and carefully rise from my stool, stalking closer slowly and casually, my eyes never leaving her face. A tall young woman is standing at her side, laughing a bright smile while leaning down towards what I'd like to call my newly acquired target. Her long dark braids swiftly fall cross her shoulder and, as she rests one hand gingerly on red head's back, the other comes up to sweep them back and tuck them neatly behind her ear, revealing rosy cheeks on radiant brown skin. Dressed much more confidently in a light pink dress that leaves little to the imagination, it doesn't surprise me as she gives red head an apologetic look while talking to her, before erupting in a beaming smile at the other's nod and stalking off towards the dance floor, leaving her friend by herself. It's hard to keep the tug at the corner of my lips in check. Perfect.

Hailey Mason, sitting alone pitifully and feeling woefully anxious by the bar I knew I'd find her at tonight. I take another sip of my drink so it looks like I've been here awhile already before finally making my move and heading towards her. My steps inaudible above the blasting beat of the music, she startles slightly as I take my seat next to her smoothly, spinning the stool to face her. The apprehensive look in her eyes and tensing of her shoulders bestow upon me a gut-wrenching satisfaction that sets deep in my core and slips into the cracks of the facade I've built.

"Mind if I take a seat and join you?"

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^me because I worked really hard on this prologue and hope you liked it

The artworks at the beginning of each chapter are AI-Images I created, so they're always setting the tone for the chapter - woo technology!
I just think it's a really cool feature.

Make sure to check out the Instagram in my bio for updates and memes about Spats & Spines 👀

Also big shoutout to probably the only three people reading this - my wonderful friends: I appreciate u 🥹🫶🏻

- Memaengg