Sinbridge

*Chapter 1 - Dark Ivy*

[MA 15+]

As soon as we walked in, I felt the tension lift off me. The smell of sweat, alcohol, leather and natural musk, the feeling of pure animalistic desire; it chased away all thoughts of the bad in my life from my mind. I wasn't who I was outside in here. In here, I could pretend I were someone different. I could make up a name and backstory and no one would question it. Complete and utter freedom.

Music, to me, was like turning back the clock, traveling and returning to a previous life, a life before agony and loss; to lose yourself in it being one of the most freeing feelings of all. My sister kissed me on the cheek and disappeared into the throngs of people, promising that we were still on for brunch tomorrow and telling me not to get into too much trouble. I smiled and continued walking, not worried at all about her. She could take care of herself; she was a Williams after all and my sister. Finding a spot on the dance floor, I let go and embraced the music and in turn the music took control. I found myself in a different world. A world of flowing emotion.

My movements flowed with a dazzling grace that took away the breath of every person that could've, and was, watching me in the nightclub. I could feel my soul become one with the music and I unleashed my emotions into my dance. I needed the release that dancing would bring me; I needed this as badly as I needed to breath.

My entire being moved with a purposeful clarity. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in one of the countless mirrors that were covering the walls and briefly thought about how I looked so free, so lost in the music. Every move was second nature but flowed into one another.

To dance was freedom, to dance was to become an opening flower or a bird aloft. To feel the music pulse was like new breath for my body and nourishment for a soul so tired. I could dance until the sweat dripped to the polished wood and my cheeks tinged pink.

The club is electric, everyone feeding off the smiles and skin on skin. I could go like this all night long, feet moving to the crazy beat like they belong to the music. I move in my dress like my hips were made to sway, my titanium piercings catching the disco ball light that twirls above - launching every shade of the rainbow into the darkness.

The song ended and I took a minute to bring myself back to earth, my breath hard and heavy. I threw everything I had into dancing and at times a little too much. This was one of those times. I need a drink. Or two. After catching my breath, I turned around and headed to the bar, ducking around people who weren't dancing but their tongues sure were. The wall that contained the alcohol had a bright red neon sign shelves with the word Prescriptions above and I grinned, finding humour in that.

Ice clunk against the glass, and sizzles in contact with the warm air that's flushed the faces of the bartender and the assortment of people perched on bar stools before him. There's a glass slid across the wood top, an exchange of money, a mumbling rage about the high prices of the booze. A man to my left drowns his sorrow in the elixir at one end of the nightclub bar, and a young couple flirts shamelessly at the other end with the nectar in hand.

The drug seems to have very different effects, depending on the situation of its consumption. A young man appearing to have a twenty-first birthday celebration was handed a shot of vodka and promptly spewed it in to a trash bin after a few seconds, much to my amusement. His friends laughed, egging him on to take another crack. The man just lowered his head, allowing the scuffling of his hair and the friendly punches to his shoulders.

There's a rather larger woman at the corner table just a few feet away from the bar top. She sits with a cocktail glass, turning the cherry stem in the red concoction over and over again between stifled sips. The woman she is with is to the left of her, a thinner creature. She holds in hand a large beer, and there is a plate in front of her that seems to hold the remains of what was a serving of nachos. They both intently stare at the dance floor, on the hunt for fresh meat. There's no doubt about it that they are rather drunk.