OffSpring | ✎

prologue

       THE MUSIC pumped in the background of the subdued lighting of the club, the deep bass of the song vibrating against my ribcage and bouncing off the surrounding objects that made up the interior of the building. The air clogged with the smell of sweat and the combination of perfume and cologne creating an odd aroma that drifts through my nostrils.

The atmosphere sizzled and caressed at my skin, warm and stuffy, with the intention to lure me into its core with temptation, to be lost in the bodies that blended together; I ignored its call and sweep my gaze over the dozens of heads. A loud gasp escapes the seams of my lips when a hand suddenly smacks against the bare skin of my back, exposed by the dress I wore, pain tingling from the assaulted spot as I whirl around — my eyes clashing with green ones.

"Stop looking so stiff," Maddie says, despite our years of friendship, she could easily pick up on my body language even when I think I'm doing a great job of hiding it.

"Loosen up will you?"

She stood at my side from my seated position at the bar. Her blonde curls flutter into her line of sight as she peers at me through her lashes, her shape covered in a sparkling black dress that hugged at her curves: drawing looks from those around, oblivious to her own.

Meeting her gaze, a look affirms in the depths of them before I shift my attention away, proceeding to stir the straw that was within my cup of poison.

"Is it that obvious?" I mumble, "You know that I don't do well in these types of settings," I told her knowingly, my eyes once again observing the area.

My teeth sink lightly into my lip as I bounce my knee a couple of times, my body revealing what I hid from my eyes.

"I think we should have gone to that other one," I suggest a second later.

Maddie rolls her eyes, the eyeshadow that covered her lids brightening the color of her eyes as they pierced through me, her body assuming the position of placing her hands on her hips — her 'wonder woman' stance as she calls it.

"You," she arched a manicured finger my way, "have a problem."

I raise a brow in response, angling my head to the side. I could sense the amusement laced within her words as they lingered.

"Oh, ouais? and that problem is?"
[oh, yeah]

"You never want to live in the moment. You're always looking for a logical cause that's enough for you to go back into your comfortable space," she tells me.

My eyes reach heavenward before smacking my teeth and turning my attention to gaze into the mass of dancing bodies: knowing that she's right.

"So what if I am? Is that such a bad thing?"

The groan that released from her person reached my ears before her hands suddenly clamped down on my shoulders, swiveling me around until her face was leveled with mine.

"Of course it's not, bebé! It only is when you're stopping yourself short from enjoying life."

I glance at her from the corner of my eye as she gifts me a small grin, "I just want you to enjoy yourself, like actually enough yourself without worrying your tits," she tells me sincerely.

A second later, her lips pull back into a smirk, her hand bringing her chosen liquid poison to her lips.

"Hell, you're a twenty-five-year-old virgin for heaven's sake!"

The volume of her tone caught the attraction of unwanted attention toward us, mainly of the male species as their gazes flickered from her to me— the ever-growing lust accumulating in their eyes. I scowled up at her from my seat as she avoids my gaze like she's been caught.