Endless Thrills (On Hold)

Part 6

"How many times have you been called beautiful by a man who eventually made you feel ugly on the inside" - r.h. Sin

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"Numb: deprived of the power of sensation" - Google.

Mirabelle felt numb.

Surrounded by sweaty bodies grinding on each other, kissing the night goodbye to dance into the morning.

She looked around the small yet big living room turned into dance floor. People were dancing in the middle of the room, or dry humping--same difference. There were seats set around the dance floor as people made their way to take a break from dancing. Her eyes drifted to a couple who were almost doing it on the sofa. She moved her eyes away from them just as quick.

Her eyes peered towards the entrance of the kitchen where a few people were taking body shots.

She couldn't help but hear the conversation of a couple of girls seated near her.

"C'mon Ash, for some reason, he wants you, so you should embrace it," one of the girls told her friend.

The other girl seemed apprehensive as she meekly pointed out, "but he's a bad influence, he uses girls. Plus, I heard that...it hurts the first time...a lot."

It seemed as if the her friend was getting tired of her excuses and shot out, "look if you want to fit in and him to be wrapped around your finger, I suggest you drink this and let loose. This way, you won't even know what happens and it won't hurt at all."

There was a pregnant pause and Mirabelle waited to know if she accepted the drink or not.

"Good, now go get him and remember to put in some good words about me when you're with him," her friend said.

Mirabelle let out a sigh in disappointment. Another one bites the dust.

Lazily, her eyes moved to a group of people sitting in the corner of the room. They were passing around a joint while playing spin the bottle. She watched as Brandon Miller, an acquaintance, move to lock lips with someone other than his girlfriend. The group of people laughed as she tried to get his attention but he didn't stop as they were glued to each other, and eventually she stormed off crying.

She saw that a few were leaving to go to the basement, where Mirabelle previously was. Only a few certified individuals were allowed to go there. She was told to feel proud that she made it there in such less time, for few spent years trying to make it there.

She didn't -- she couldn't -- not after what she had done to deserve that. 

She was pulled out of her empty thoughts when a group of familiar people approached her. She silently stood up as they sat on the sofa around her. The last person to be seated smirked at her and sat down before pulling her into his lap. His arms slithered around her waist and she let out an unnoticeable shiver. Her mind was yelling to let go and to break free from his grip, but alas, his hold on her went deeper than her skin. 

He gave her a chaste kiss on her lips and looked at her red solo cup. The alcoholic drink was filled to the top, untouched from the moment he had gotten her it. He furrowed his eyebrows and 'tsked' at her.

"My Mira, are you not thirsty? I think you are parched," his soothing voice spoke to her.

His arms tightened around her, one of his hands resting on her bottom. She almost had a reaction when he referred to her as 'Mira', a nickname reserved for her mom.