Brazilian Lounge

one.

Chapter one.

Smoke filled the room, it was full of good looking people with Cuban cigars. They probably all bought them from the suited up man next to the entrance's hallway. The suffocating, acrid smoke clouded the lights, but none of us minded. We enjoyed the drinks, the cigars and the live, seductive Brazilian melodies.

My throat used to burn when I inhaled the strong smoke. But that was when I was twenty-two. Ever since my best friend, Marcos, introduced me to the contemporary chilled out rhythms, I couldn't resist the lounge. The caramel skinned women, the cold cocktails, and especially the cigars.

Now...now, my throat has no feeling when it comes to smoking. It's second nature to me, I've adapted so well that I forgot what it felt like to not smoke.

I sat on a lime sofa with yellow and blue lines zig-zagging into no particular pattern. I often stare at it until it becomes vertiginous, but that day was different. Something felt odd, but nothing seemed out of place. Marcos was sitting next to me, across from two lovely ladies from Chile. Marcos and one of the ladies' sat back to back while the other Ms Chile leaned back and sunk into the cushions of her sofa. She threw her head back and closed her eyes to let the sweet, soothing music fill her ears. I studied her features carefully when I decided that it would be more interesting than staring at a sofa.

Her caramel-like skin looked flawless whilst her nose crooked a bit at the bridge, but her juicy, voluptuous lips made up for it. Her eyelashes were longer than most other woman I've encountered, and I couldn't see her eyebrows because of her dark curls that balanced lightly on her eyelids. Her neck seemed so long and slim, I wanted to plant sweet kisses down it, and the way her chest slowly puffed in and out as she inhaled and exhaled was so calm. Her breasts nearing me with every breath she took. She had a white dandelion tucked in her hair, which obviously meant she was free spirited. Especially with her loose pants with an explosion of colours on it.

Something still seemed off.

Then...that's when I figured it out. That's when I felt the sudden urge to turn my head towards the bar. My gaze landed on a tall woman who wore a short green dress with black sneakers. She wasn't caramel skinned though, and it was obvious that she wasn't used to the surroundings. She choked on the smoke a few times and started coughing, and her brows furrowed every time she glanced at her wrist. I assumed she had a watch on.

Her long brown hair, with a middle path separating the two sides, fell perfectly over her shoulders on either side. Her hair looked perfect, as though she had just came back from a Tresemme photo shoot.

"Aftonio?" Marcos snapped me out of my daze.

"Hmm?" I said, rubbing my eyes with the hand that wasn't holding my icy fruit cocktail.

"I am going home with Mariana. Can I take go, or what?" He asked in his heavy accent. I nodded, clearly not thinking properly. I didn't like walking home alone after dark, especially after I heard the rumours. But before I could speak again, Marcos and Mariana were on their way out. I watched them rush past the tall woman that I was previously staring at. I took a glance at Ms Chile, only to see that she had fallen deep into a slumber. And, to top that, her friend ditched her to go home with another man, poor thing. In most cases I would have stayed with a sleeping beauty, but right then I just had to introduce myself to the non-Hispanic. My conscious kept telling me that I couldn't miss that opportunity, and if I did, I was extremely stupid.

I got up from the sofa and slammed my drink down on the wooden table in between Ms Chile and I. I shot a glance at Ms Chile and she was still sleeping. I straightened down my bright orange buttoned down shirt before I walked towards Ms Non-Hispanic. She just stood next to the bar, unconsciously looking around the room. She was obviously waiting for someone, or something. When she noticed me walking towards her, she offered me a small smile. I smiled back and gave her a mini wave.

"Waiting for someone?" I asked when I was close enough. She shifted awkwardly, but she didn't seem too uncomfortable. I hoped that it wasn't the way I looked at her. I started mentally panicking...oh my God, did I look creepy? Do I have a weird smile? Does my breath reek of alcohol? Something in my teeth?

"Actually, I am." She looked into my eyes, distracting me from my mental panic attack. Her eyes were a dark green, they seemed kind, yet mysterious.

"Oh? Why here? It's your first time here, no?" I asked, not believing how confident I sounded. It was definitely the alcohol in those drinks.

"It is, but he asked for this place. It's supposed to be a date," she explained. I continued to stare into her eyes like I was searching for an entrance into somewhere, until I heard her let out a small giggle.

"What?" My eyes shifted down towards her soft lips and back up again. The corners of her eyes stretched and slightly curved upward as she smiled at me. It was almost as though she was smiling with her eyes.

"I feel so awkward. I'm the only American here. And I met the guy on the internet." I could see the shameful expression that she tried to hide on her face.

"You are American?" I asked, even though I knew the answer. I didn't want to hover on the topic of internet dating, so I tried to stick to a safer topic. She nodded. "Then let me take you somewhere more American?" I offered, letting the words roll straight off my tongue. She started grinning. Her toothy smile had me hooked already, I felt drunk. But not because of the alcohol.

"You want me to ditch my date to go on one with you?" Her voice dripped disbelief in an amused tone.

"Well if you say it like that you make me sound so cocky." I smirked.

"Is there a way to rephrase that to make you sound less cocky?" She raised her dark eyebrow playfully.

"I don't know. Probably not." I admitted. "But maybe after your date tonight you can call me?" I say hopefully. I knew that I was just pushing my luck, but it couldn't hurt to try.

"Maybe." She held onto the word while she narrowed her eyes at me with a smirk playing on her lips. I carefully took out a creased piece of paper and started fishing my pockets for any writing utensils, but then she held out her phone and bit her lip as if to contain her laughter. "Save it on my phone."

I forced out a laugh, which came out weak and fake, and took her phone before saving my number on it.

"Under 'Aftonio'." I say as I hand her phone back. She gave me a tight nod before slowly backing up. "Enjoy your date."

I turned back around and walked to my sofa. I felt her stare burning a hole in my back, but I didn't mind. It meant she was checking me out, obviously considering actually calling me sometime. I sat back down with a knowing smirk and took a sip of my drink. I realised I never caught her name, but my thoughts soon became blank when I had a staring contest with the American. It felt so intimate, even though we were on two opposite sides in the Lounge. It never broke until an older Columbian guy walked in and started talking to her. That must have been her date. I couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment and jealousy go through me. But I soon decided to just let it go, hopefully the date would go South and she'd call.

I glanced at Ms Chile who was still sleeping. So after I downed my cocktail, I took hers and finished it in one gulp. I felt slightly guilty for finishing her drink, but I put the glass back in her hand so that when she wakes up she'll think she drank it up. I started staring at the lines on the sofa as I got lost in the oh so seductive rhythm. The beat soothed my ears and the patterns soon became vertiginous once again.