A Room for My Pretend Love

That One Night

⚠️: This story contains references to domestic violence.

Music blared through the speakers, pulsing loudly in the background. Bodies moved to the beat. Patches of skin shimmered to the glow of neon lights while people rubbed against each other inside a densely packed club.

In the midst of it all was a woman clad in a green sequined bodycon dress. Oblivious to the sets of eyes ravishing her every move, she danced with her eyes closed feeling each movement as if in a trance. She swung from side to side, her long black hair revealing only half of her face.

If there's a god out there, please make me forget, she screamed in silence to drown out the voices in her head. And when the crowd cheered because a popular song started playing, Suki raised her voice along with them.

At first, she had contemplated drowning her grief in booze, but when she got to the bar, the stench of the alcohol brought back memories. Fighting the impulse to gag, she covered her nose and turned away. She realized that she just couldn't touch the stuff, not after what it did to her family. So, she went to the dance floor instead, seeking comfort in the anonymity of being just another body in a crowd of a hundred.

Stop thinking about it, Suki. You're here to forget, she cautioned herself as she allowed the techno music to clear her mind.

A hand snaked around her waist, prompting her eyes to snap open. In front of her were the leering eyes of a predator. It's the type of man she despised most: expensively dressed, reeking of perfume, cigarettes, and booze, and an expression that said he was entitled to every woman in this club just because he was a man with money.

"What do you think you're doing?" she snapped at him.

"What does it look like I'm doing, baby? Don't you like it?"

"Take your hands off me." The words squeezed their way out of her lips.

"What's the problem? The way you were dancing, you're obviously asking for it."

She felt a hand squeeze her backside. Without saying a word, she kneed the man hard in the groin. He howled, his body bent like a tree cut by an axe. Before he could do anything else, she pushed through the crowd and made her way to the door.

"What the fuck?" she heard him cry out, but she didn't look back. Instead, she focused on getting to the stairway that led to the door.

"I just wanted one night," she muttered through gritted teeth.

Before she reached the landing, she was pulled by the hair. With a clang, she fell back and hit the stair railing. Cold metal stung her palm when Suki hurried to steady herself. A thousand needles prickled her scalp, but she didn't let it show. Instead, she stared straight at the man. This pain was nothing.

"I guess I didn't kick you hard enough," she spat out.

He tightened his fist, but she continued to stare him down.

"You're really going to get it today," he said with a smile. As if in slow motion, he raised his hand. She knew what he was going to do.

The sight of his fist made her skin crawl. It was a familiar brand of horror, one that she used to confront on a regular basis. Memories that she had buried in the recesses of her mind flashed before her eyes. Helpless at their onslaught, she closed her eyes and let herself remember.

That day had started just like the one before it. As usual, she and her mother had woken up at the crack of dawn. Suki turned on the electric lamp by the stove. On the counter, mother laid out the ingredients. Like specters moving in the darkness, they made sure that breakfast was on the table and lunch was in the fridge. Years of practice had taught them how to move around without waking the monster in the bedroom. After finishing their share of the meal, she and her mother concealed the worst of their secrets with cosmetics and clothes then tiptoed their way out of the house. Even ghosts had to make a living.