ONNAXOFF

Chapter 4

Abel

My plan for the night is the same as most club nights: show up, rock along to some tracks, drink, take pictures, drink some more, maybe smoke a few blunts and then leave with a girl or two. But tonight is a little different. Tonight, I have a specific girl in mind. Ever since the other night, Jessie’s been showing up in my thoughts at random moments. Not frequently, but randomly. Like yesterday, I was in the shower, when suddenly there she was, lathering up with me. I have to get this chick out of my system and there’s only one way I know how. The only thing stopping me from taking her right here in the club is my intense dislike for PDA and the fact that she’s currently at the bar drinking and laughing with her friend Rose.

Last week, Lamar suggested we go to an old nightclub we used to practically live in, way back in the good old days. The place is packed from wall to wall with partygoers rocking out to the excellent mix the DJ is spinning. He’s playing club classics I haven’t heard in forever at volumes that are going to have my ears ringing till tomorrow. It is almost like he’s trying to blow the roof of the place. And judging by the age of this building, there’s a good chance he can do it.

Halfway through his set, he suddenly cuts the music and shouts “AYE, I HEAR WE HAVE A SPECIAL GUEST IN THE BUILDING TONIGHT!” An excited buzz starts up in the crowd with everyone wondering who it could be. “TORONTO’S VERY OWN… THE WEEKND!” He smacks a button and the opening beats of Crew Love start up. Within seconds, people are screaming and jumping along to the pulsing rhythm. Entertained by the response, I shake my head at Lamar. Just from the way he grins at me, from his position on the couch between a passed-out Cash and a scantily clad chick, I know he was the one who let the DJ know about my presence.

“LET’S SHOW HIM LOVE, PEOPLE.” He yells, as the song fades into a remixed version of The Zone and my own voice reverberates off the walls. This guy must have known I was coming in advance because his medley of my songs is fucking fantastic. Even I’ve never heard them done like this before. When I hear the way the crowd goes wild for his Remember You remix, I make a mental note to get this guy’s phone number; his talent for making mixes could come in handy in the studio someday. Eventually he goes back to playing other songs and I decide to get up and dance when he spins an insanely sick Worst Behavior.

 “Wow, who knew you could move like that?” Even before I turn around, I recognise the playful British voice as Jessie’s. And once I do turn around, with her hair curled and her pouty lips painted red, I don’t want to take my eyes off her. The gold belt bow-tied around her waist seems to be the only thing keeping her black and white dress closed. And I fully intend on finding out if the tight dress unwraps when I unravel that gold bow. She approaches me, sashaying forward in shiny black heels.

“Not as good as you.” I force myself to stop checking her out and reply to her remark. “You’re a dancer, right?”

“Aren’t we all dancers?” She teases, answering my question with another question.

The DJ scratches the track and starts to switch the song from Drake and the smooth ooohs of Outkast’s Hey Ya fill the club.

“Oh shit! I haven’t heard this song since I was like 18!” She laughs, getting down straight away. As the DJ starts yelling the iconic “Come on now, ladies! I wanna see y’all on your baddest behaviour! Lend me some sugar. I am your neighbour!” part and Jessie ‘shakes it like a Polaroid picture’, I silently thank him again for allowing me the pleasure of seeing her body move like that.  After the song changes again, I dance with her for a few more songs before I hold my empty glass up to signal ‘I need a refill’ and we head to the bar.