Can't you just text me before you come over like any normal person?

Part 10

It was 1.45am and Missy was at a club.

Her friend Karen had dragged her out, complaining that she never get to see her anymore, but had subsequently spent the entire evening poured all over some guy she had just met, leaving Missy alone.

Missy had spent the entire night as a third wheel, merely sitting in the corner of a booth downing shot after shot to console herself, while her friend and this random guy partook in the most awkward PDA imaginable.

It was about thirty minutes ago that a drunk guy had the bar had offered to buy Missy a drink, but when she had turned him down, he had grabbed her ass and told her to not be such a conceited bitch. So all in all it had not been a brilliant night out for her....

All she wanted to do now was to get home and forget about the whole thing.

"Karen, I'm going to go," she yelled over the loud club music.

Her dark-haired friend extracted her lips from the guy she was making out with and stared up at Missy.

"Oh don't go! We're having fun!" she said with a whine.

Missy forced a smile. She most definitely wasn't having fun.

"No, I'm tired, I'm just going to take a cab home," said Missy, tucking her long caramel hair behind her ears. "You stay safe though ok?"

She gave the guy Karen was with, a cautious glance as her friend beamed up at her.

"Ok, but text me when you're home, yeah?" said Karen, grasping Missy's hand and giving it a squeeze.

Missy squeezed back before hitching up her chain handbag and walking off.

She wove her way through the crowd pushing through groups of dancing people as she did so before finally reaching the doors that led out of the club and stepping out into the cold night air.

She shivered slightly. She only had a tight black dress and heels on and she cursed herself for not bringing a jacket.

She quickly moved aside as two girls pushed past her into the club.

There was a line stretching down the block of party-goers waiting to get inside.

Missy reached into her handbag for her phone. She frowned. It wasn't there.

"Fuck..." she murmured.

She lifted up the her little bag and made to root through it but it was empty, save for a tube of lipstick and the keys to her apartment.

Both her phone and purse were gone. They must have been snatched as she was walking through the crowds mere moments ago.

She paled and turned to head back inside but suddenly a large doorman held an arm out in front of her blocking her path.

"You need to join the line if you want to come inside," he said in a thick accent, gazing down at her disinterestedly.

Missy, shot him a confused look. "I just came from in there, I lost my cell phone and my-"

"Did you get a wristband?" he asked in a gruff voice, his attention elsewhere.

"No, but I-" she began.

"Then you'll have to join the line," he said, nodding towards the enormous queue, before turning away from her and beckoning a party of three forwards and letting them inside.

Missy stepped back onto the cold pavement. All she wanted to do was go home.

But she had no money and no phone and was at least a dozen blocks away from her apartment.