Stranger // [Justin Bieber]

Chapter 5

First Edit: 26/07/2017

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We walk into a buzzing jazz club.

The music overpowers every other sound and sensation. All I hear is the swinging bass and thumping drums that steams up the crowd.

The people are packed on the dance floor, jiving to a Gatsby themed song. The band plays on a stage similar to a red curtain platform. Others are occupying tables at the ends with glasses of alcohol and cigarettes in their hands. Some are signalling the bartenders to make their next drink and very few are passed out drunk with their faces on the bar counter.

Everyone is having a good time.

Denzel places his hand on my back and shouts into my ear so that I can hear, "I'm getting drinks. What do you want?"

"Sweet red," I say in the most classiest way possible. He nods and disappears to the bar.

I cross my arms and look around me. Denzel sure knows how to pick a place for a good night out. This jazz joint is loud, hot and steamy.

A bump to my side has me stumbling forward before I regain my posture. I turn to see a man in his mid-forties with a whiskey in one hand and a beer in the other.

"Oh sorry love! I didn't see you there!" the man utters and gives me an apologetic smile.

I wave it off and dismiss him with a nod. Poor man, trying to balance his drinks in this packed place. He disappears off.

Moments later I see Denzel walking towards me with a drink in his hand and a glass of wine in the other. He hands it to me and asks, "Do you know who that was?"

He watched me from the bar? Okay.

I shrug and shake my head, "No idea!"

"It was Jason Blum," he answers.

I hope he doesn't expect me to know who that is.

He sees my confused expression and carries on shouting in my ear, "He's one of the best film producers in Hollywood! And you just bumped into him! Did you apologize?"

Okay first of all...

Deep breaths Leah. Deep breaths.

I force a smile and take a sip from my wine, "Interesting!"

Denzel and I sat at an open table and tried to chat over the loud music, not making much progress. It wasn't until the music slowed down half an hour later, that we were able to hear each other properly.

Denzel looks to the now-thinned-out crowd. Only a few couples and partners are swaying to the slow melody of the saxophone.

He gives me a devious grin and speaks, "Will I be dancing with you on the next song?"

Lord have mercy.

I fake another smile, "Sure," I breathe and look around, "let me just freshen up in the ladies first," I stand up and walk to the back of the club.

I stop for a moment, not sure where the restrooms are. They're usually at the back, right? There's one lone door next to the bar and as far as I can see, it's the only door leading somewhere, except out. So I walk to it.

I can see the head barman eyeing me with furrowed brows, but he looks away when I glare at him before I push the door open and go through.

"Definitely not a restroom," I mutter to myself.

This is another room. Luscious couches and chairs decorate the interior, whilst a more rockabilly song plays from the speaker at an almost inaudible volume. Someone plays a piano in the far corner and I can't see or hear what the person sings, since there's a bunch of people standing around the piano, listening to the piece. This must be the VIP area by the looks of it.