Mistake ♦ Romitri

Chapter 2

The club was hidden behind the facade of an abandoned warehouse on the west of the town. The club itself wasn't well known and had few customers but they kept running on selling cheap drinks and playing good enough music to dance to. It was also unknown enough to sell drinks to underage teenagers. Or, in simpler terms, me.

I had undone a few more buttons of my shirt and had made sure that I had worn the most fitting leggings I owned and with that I was ready. I descended the stairs into the dark abyss below, passing the bouncers on the way who didn't spare more than a glance in my direction. 

I pushed the door open and was hit by the pounding music and the strobe lighting. The atmosphere in itself was enough to intoxicate me, despite the raging headache it was giving me. I loved feeling lost in the music, in the building. No one knew who I was here. I was Rose, the girl who sat at the bar. 

I strutted towards the bar, a man-eating smile plastered on my face as I shouted out to the bartender on the opposite side of the room, the bar covering the expanse of the left side of the crowded, cramped room.

When I called out again, the bartender turned to me and approached me, a curious look in his eyes. His dark brown eyes stared down at me menacingly, emphasised by his tall stature, as he raised an eyebrow at me. I felt a scowl spread across my face, not only could the man do the impossible of lifting a single eyebrow but he seemed to be silently denying me a drink.

I looked up at him, our eyes meeting for a contest of wills. 'Well?' I asked, tapping my nails on the counter, waiting impatiently for him to pour me a drink.

'Are you even old enough to be drinking or in here for that matter?' He asked, his Russian accent thick. I suddenly felt small under his gaze and cowered before the new bartender. On the surface, though, I stayed tall- my shoulders back and my head held high.

I cursed that it wasn't the usual guy at the bar tonight but stood my ground and waited for the man to give me my drink. In fairness, I was surprised the man hadn't gone for the job of a bodyguard, his body was made of muscle and his height could frighten even the strongest of people.

'Yeah, how else did you think I would get in?' I replied, the lie falling off my tongue easily. I had a mixed relationship with lying. I was bad at lying in most social situations but when the time came and I felt it was crucial, I had the perfect excuses lined up and I could portray them in a tone that would have any person do my bidding.

'Fake ID?' He asked, his accent even thicker than before and something about it was attractive but I knew in this situation, seduction would get me nowhere and with the forceful eye contact he was making, I knew there was no escaping.

'You're new here, right?' I asked, quickly changing the topic. 

'Changing topics, classic. But, yes, to answer your question.' I clenched my teeth; I had been caught out immediately by the frustrating Russian behind the counter. But, I felt a tingle of pride that I was right- he was new. I hadn't seen him around before, that much was clear, I would have noticed the hot Russian guy before now if he had been.

'So, can I have a drink now, comrade?' He smirked at the nickname but simply shook his head.

'It's Dimitri. Not Comrade...ID?' I slipped my hand into my breast pocket and pulled out the ID I had stolen from a similar looking girl back when I had been living out of the foster system. He squinted, trying to read the information on the front but seemingly struggling under the uneven lighting pattern. 

Either way, I was screwed as his eyes met mine again, a disappointed look spreading across his face. 'I was hoping that if you had been using a fake ID it would at least be good. No way is that you.' He sighed, handing the ID back to me before going to move away. I needed a new approach.