The Last of the Old Ones

Colin

Chapter Seven

Four Months Earlier

I knew the next few months were about to be go-mode so I decided I would blow off some steam before I got thrown into the thick of things. With the high expectations on me by my family, this party was something I really needed, and it was in the town we would be relocated in so it also gave me a chance to scope things out. I finished tucking in my black dress shirt into my black slacks and adjusted the silver watch on my wrist. One spray of cologne later, I tucked my mask for the party into my pocket and headed for my car. My parents weren't fond of me going out so I didn't do it often but at least I had an excuse I could reasonably make if I got caught.

As I pulled up to the old brick building, I slid the mask on my face and unbuttoned the top button to my shirt. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes filled the air as soon as I stepped out of my black Aston Martin; I didn't often flaunt my family's wealth, but this car was elegant. Maybe I would grab a few drinks and cut loose tonight, I thought. I was nineteen so drinking had become my cut loose option when I left the house as of two years ago. After the nuclear war so many years ago now, people had decided seventeen was a good age to allow drinking, if we were old enough to fight in a war, surely, we could handle alcohol. Although all the places I frequented knew me by name, here I was just another stranger. A stranger with a very nice vehicle. I handed my keys to the valet and slipped my pickup ticket in my wallet as I pulled out my ID and handed it to the guard at the door, the guard who seemed more interested in my Aston Martin than checking my age might I add. I supposed this kind of luxury was not common in this type of town.

Once I was inside, I found my way straight to the bar. Sitting there, I flashed a smile at the bartender as she poured me two shots of whiskey. I downed them one after the other without so much as a grimace. She lingered for a moment after she made me a whiskey sour to follow the shots. I had no interest in her though, she was good looking, mid-twenties, shoulder length, curly blonde hair, but the expression she wore told me she saw me as "Daddy's money". I didn't have time for that. I had missed the feeling of bass running through my body, it had been about a month of helping the house pack so I hadn't been out as of late. I stood up from the bar and moved closer to the dance floor. Drink in hand, I stayed on the edge of the dance floor surveying the swaying bodies. People's faces were just flashes of ornate masks and a mixture of full-skirted and body-hugging dresses. The extravagance out of place with the music that played through the speakers. An excuse to feel special, I told myself. Most of these girls were just trying to catch the attention of anyone who would give it. I scanned the club until my eyes locked onto a particularly beautiful woman, a stranger but somehow familiar. Her skin emanated an alluring scent that filled my brain even from the twenty or so feet away that she was. I was now three drinks in, and I had to know what her skin felt like... maybe it was just the alcohol talking... I knocked back the rest of that whiskey sour and placed my empty glass on the bar. I took a deep breath and headed closer, already knowing this was going to end recklessly on my part. All logic out the window, I was now just following the primal voice in my head telling me to go to her.

She turned around as I got near, as if I had called her name, but I hadn't said a word. She watched me approach and turned to dance with me when I got within an arm's length. We swayed together to the beat. Our bodies talking without words. My fingers trailed the beautiful stranger's arms as she danced against me, her sweet scent had drawn me to her in this club of strangers. The way she let loose to the loud music told me she was probably here for the same reason I was, to forget her problems and responsibilities for the night. Through her intricate silver mask, I had seen her piercing blue eyes darken when I had approached her to dance. Her shimmering black dress held to every curve, inviting me to explore it. It may have been a masquerade of types, but the music had me focused on how her hips moved to the beat. I could feel the electricity emanating from my fingertips as they touched her skin. As her hips move, her ass grazing the seam of my pants. I could feel her smirk and my body reacted to her movements; she knew what she was doing.