Kittie Tales

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen: You Feel (Fill) Me Too..

Alessandra

Roxie barged into my room angrily like she owned the building - which she technically did, by the way, because she is a Dumonte heiress. When her mother, Genny had heard about her wanting to rent an apartment in the city with 'middle classers', as she refers to people like us (no offence taken, I'm sure she means no harm), she'd walked right up to her husband and demanded that he buys the place and in his eldest daughter's name.

And he did!

Rich people richpeopling..

"Let's get wasted", she pronounced.

Even though we had our differences on other matters at the moment, I couldn't have agreed more.

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I threw on a fringe-sequinned short black dress and Roxie, a short alter-neck number that left nothing at the back to your imagination. A few minutes later, we were pulling into the front of the StarryNight Club.

A large crowd of people were lined up to enter the club; the youngsters who snuck out to be here, the young adults, the nine-to-fivers who needed a little boost of confidence for work day the next day, the 35+ men who were on a desperate wife-hunt, the spinsters who were doing too much, the horny guys who came to ogle at everything and anything in skirt, or pants, and of course, the ones who came to drown their sorrows in a few bottles of liquor. AKA Roxie and I.

Roxie handed the keys over to the young and flushed red-haired valet who couldn't keep his eyes off her figure the whole time. I prayed the car was still in good condition when we got back. Instead of joining the line out back, we strutted to the front of the line while Roxie waved at her friend and the owner of the night club, Dom, with a smile. He flashed a set of white teeth at our pair and gestured for us to follow him.

We were soon enveloped by loud blasts of sound and the cool waves of breeze from the air conditioning in the building. The sea of bodies moving, twisting and grinding to the music did nothing to beat down the cold atmosphere. I began to wonder just how many air conditioners were installed, or maybe Dom had a free gateway pass to Antarctica in here.

Thanking the heavens because my clothes wouldn't get stuck on me today, we decided to revisit the mission statement.

The mission: Get wasted.
The vision: Forget our sorrows.
Agents assigned: Roxanne and Alessandra.

And off we went to do just that.

The first shot we had was on the house, the second and third was a special order from Dom and because we were seated at the VVIP section courtesy of our host, we didn't even need to spend a single dime on our drinks. So, we decided to enjoy the privilege and the generosity of our host. It wasn't long after my fifth or sixth shot that I knew I couldn't feel my face anymore. Or was it eight? And I bet Roxie wasn't even planning on using her body the next day because she kept downing and drowning in the bottle of spirit.

We need to have a conversation when we can clearly think straight, this doesn't seem healthy at all..

I totally agree, but are you ready to share yours?, the rational part of my brain - whom I thought had gone to the back of the scene to allow my irrationality come to play - asked.

I took another shot to silence that thought and I could swear that I felt that burst of confidence in my chest. When the guy who'd made it so obvious that he was ogling me, walked up to our table and asked for a dance, I gave it to him straight away, not after making sure Roxie was in good condition and hands. Also, I'd agreed because I needed a good way to manage the alcohol in my system and going on bathroom trips every other minute was not part of the plan.