ELECTRIFIED

CHAPTER 1

TRIGGER WARNING!
this book will include loads of violence including shootings, blood, fights, death, and possibly more as i continue writing the story.  if you happen to be upset or triggered by the things i was listed, or are triggered by violence in general, i wouldn't advise reading further!  please stay safe and know what your boundaries are, i would never want to hurt anyone.  <3

Joey's hand travelled to his hair, the other wrapped around a cold bottle of beer.  He lifted the bottle to his lips, taking a few sips of the drink.  He swallowed hard, letting his eyes shut for a brief moment.  The music in the club was high tempo, meaning it was good for dancing.  A bunch of younger women, maybe in their 20s, jumped up onto tables and stripper poles, and began dancing.  They earned whistles and screams from fellow women, and catcalls from men.  Joey hoped they would all stay safe, as men usually don't know basic manners.

Joey didn't know what he was doing at a club at one o'clock in the morning, with nobody to talk to, nothing to do.  He just needed something to do other than sleep all day on his off days.  Work was annoying as hell, and getting a day off felt almost orgasmic.  Having two meant he had a night to do whatever he wanted, then he had a morning to sleep in and recuperate.  So, tonight, as per usual, he went to the club to get something to do.  Look at girls, get drunk (but not shitfaced), get hit on by girls, turn them down kindly, even sometimes play along for a bit.  He wasn't interested in dating at the moment, as he was too occupied with his own mind.  He figured he needed some time to complete the puzzle that was his mind, and fit all the pieces together.  At the moment, they were all scrambled, some pieces lost.  His logic was just to wait till maybe he stumbled upon those pieces.  Or put them together by luck.

He realized he had been thinking about puzzles for too long, then took another sip of his drink.  The lack of sleep was getting to him.  He rubbed his dry, heavy eyes, then blinked them back into focus.

In the distance, Joey could just barely see something that he hadn't seen frequently at the club.  A young, tall man with dark hair was climbing onto a pole.  He looked uncertain at first, then started talking to someone.  There were a few young women, probably about his age, clapping and cheering.  The man laughed, finally touching the pole.  Joey watched from a distance as the young man strutted around the pole, almost femininely.  His hips swayed to the tempo of the music, his footsteps matching it as well.  Then, he sped up and jumped, his legs swinging up onto the pole.  One hooked onto it, the other flung up, and he was hanging upside down, turning rather quickly on the pole.  There were loud screams of joy as he continued spinning, lowering himself to the ground.  He got off the pole and stood back up properly.

Joey's curiosity got the best of him, so he got up from his seat.  He walked a little closer to get a better look of the man.  He had a letterman jacket on, a red one, and dark jeans.  He had piercing eyes, but he couldn't figure out what colour they were still.  He had plump lips, a small but long, almost hooked nose.  He had a pretty normal weight, not like that really mattered anyway.  The guy was gorgeous.

Joey could almost sense where he was from.  He must've been romanian.  He just looked romanian, if that was even possible.

The boy twirled around the pole one last time, a little slower this time.  His eyes landed on Joey, a big smile on his face.  The smile then slowly shrunk into a weird half-smile, his eyebrows raised up a bit.  Joey then turned his gaze away, feeling something weird in his chest.  Like thousands of ants crawling all over his heart, down to his stomach.  He almost felt like he was sick all of a sudden.  He began walking away, pushing past people who were peacefully having conversations.  Joey made his way to the men's bathroom, pushing the door open forcefully.  Nobody was in the stalls, so Joey turned one of the faucets on, splashing cold water onto his face.  He looked at himself in the mirror.  The reflection wasn't a pretty picture - dark circles, eye bags, and god knows what else.  Joey ran his fingers through his hair, realizing all of a sudden that he'd forgotten his beer bottle.  He'd probably left it at his table.  What if someone drugged it while he was away?  He took that as a sign to just go home.

The second he pushed open the door was when the first gunshot was heard.  A loud pop, it almost sounded like a firecracker going off in the club.  Screams erupted from every direction.  Everywhere Joey looked, people were running, just desperately trying to stay safe.  Another pop.  And then another.  More screaming.  Joey couldn't focus, he searched endlessly for whoever was causing the panic.  His eyes rested on a man with a shaved head, holding a gun in his hand.  He reloaded it and began shooting.  Immediately, Joey ran towards him, pushing past the river of people trying to pour out of the building.  More gunshots.  Joey fell to the ground, tripped by someone's leg.  He began crawling, getting stepped on by those fleeing.  Joey felt pain all over his body, but slowly pulled himself up using a table.  He then saw, almost too late, the man pointing his gun right at him.  Joey gasped, ducking the second the guy pulled the trigger in his direction.  Joey crawled away, trying to seek cover for a moment while he figured out exactly what he was doing, but the man followed.

Joey decided to just go for it.  He got up and ran towards the criminal, shoving him onto the ground.  He felt something cold press against his stomach.  Realizing it was the gun, he shifted his weight and rolled over, pinning the gun against the floor.  He punched the shooter right in the nose.  He got up and stared at the man, who was in shock, blood pouring over his lips.  Joey held out a hand and began shaking violently, feeling every inch of his body experience what he could only describe as an electric shock.  He fell to the ground, seeing lightning-like burns all over his arms and hands.  He then turned to look at the gunman.  He was practically burnt to a crisp.

For a few seconds, Joey stared at the charred remains in disbelief.  He turned around to leave, but something caught his eye.  A familiar face.  Wide-eyed, the dancing boy lied on the floor, a pool of blood flowing from his chest.  Joey gasped, falling to the floor.  He ripped the boy's shirt open, seeing the wound where he'd been shot.  There was no way the young man would survive this wound, it was too serious.

Unsure what to do, he looked down at the boy.  "What's your name?" he asked.  "Hey, look at me, what's your name?"

The dying young man looked directly into Joey's eyes.  He was beyond being able to speak.  He lifted one finger, pointing towards a table.  There was a wallet lying neatly on it, where he must've been standing or sitting before he got shot.  Joey quickly stood up and grabbed it, before ripping off his jacket and pressing it to the wound, despite knowing it was too serious to save him.

Upset and nearly in tears, Joey read the name on the boy's license.  DANIEL CHRISTOPHER PREDA, it read.  "Daniel, I-I..." he mumbled, his lips shaking.  "It'll be OK, alright?  You'll be OK."

Daniel's eyes were emptying.  "I d-don't..." he whispered, slowly shaking his head.  "... No," he coughed.  Joey's eyes welled up, knowing he was helpless.  Daniel was dying in front of him.  He grabbed his hand.

"I'm here, I'm here, Daniel, you're not alone, o-okay?  I-I-I'm... I-I'm right here, just... J-Just..."  Joey's voice shook.  The blood began soaking through his jackets fabric.  "You'll be OK."

Daniel's head began rolling back.

"You'll be OK, I promise," Joey weeped.

/AUTHOR'S NOTE/

hey!  i'm estel!  this is my very first book on here.  i hope it's at least OK, i'm definitely not the best writer.  help me get started and let me know what you think of the story so far!  :)

estel <3