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I take a sip of my drink, trying to ignore the overpowering flavor of alcohol in light of my lingering hangover. “I just wanted to ask you something about Elliot,” I say, adjusting the volume of my voice as the music gets louder in the background.
“Who the fuck is Elliot?” he asks, shouting over the loud bass.
I know he knows who Elliot is, but I humor him. “He’s my ex, the one from last night. Did you kick him out? Did you see him leave? My friend said she never saw him leave the club, and I thought you kicked him out,” I reply.
Akim is about to answer me when an unfamiliar man approaches, glancing at me with uncertainty and turning to face Akim. His whole demeanor is off, like he’s hiding a terrible secret. “Akim, we’re trying to start our meeting. Get her out of here,” he says to Akim as if I’m not two feet away from him.
I feel like a pest suddenly, more like an annoying purse dog than a human being.
Akim glances at me hesitantly. “I have to go. I’m sure I’ll see you again,” he says before getting up from his place at the bar and disappearing into the crowd of Saturday night partygoers.
Instead of leaving right away, I decide to stick around and ask the bartender a few questions. I steal Akim’s seat, and within a few minutes, a thin, tattooed man with androgynous features approaches me to take my order.
I slide the martinis away from me. “Uh, can I just get an amaretto sour?” I ask, saying the first mixed drink that came to mind. It’s impossible to fuck up an amaretto sour.
“Sure you don’t want something a little stronger? Or is it your twenty-first birthday? Please don’t ask me to make you a birthday shot,” he says.
“Nope, I got pretty hammered last night, so I want to take it easy,” I chirp. I hate being pressured to drink.
“Your loss,” the bartender says, grabbing a few bottles off the shelf.
“Hey, what can you tell me about the owner of this club?” I ask as he cracks an egg.
He hesitates, dropping a piece of the shell into the drink and tossing the entire thing to start over. “God fucking dammit,” he mutters, shaking his head.
Then he looks up at me, narrowing his eyes. “Why do you ask?”
I shrug. “I’m just curious. I met him briefly last night, and he seemed interesting.”
“I mean.. . I don’t know that much about him. He’s kind of a weird guy, keeps to himself,” the bartender replies, cracking another egg. I can see in his eyes that he’s withholding information on purpose, which only ignites my curiosity even more.
“Okay. Thank you,” I say, taking the drink from him with a fake smile and stepping away from the bar toward the dance floor. There’s a small stain where Elliot bled, and I feel a rush of pride.
I drink slowly, swaying to the music and mingling with the crowd for hours in hopes that I will spot Akim again. He has a meeting or something, but those usually don’t run all night. I’m sure he’ll be back out, and I have nothing better to do than wait.
Slowly, I realize that a night without drama at the club can actually be fun. I’ve never danced like this before, but as the music grows louder and elbows start to bump, I’m going all out on the dance floor.
I almost forget what I’m here for.
Untilhereturns.
“Hey!” I deep voice barks from beside me.
Speak of the devil.
I turn to see Akim pushing his way through the crowd with his hand extended like he expects me to take it and dance with him. What’s this all about?
I freeze, uncertain what to do.
Akim drops his hand and slips it around my waist, pulling me toward him and spinning me around with the music. He’s a lot taller than me, so he has to crouch down a bit to dance, and even then, his crotch is pressed firmly into my stomach.
I can barely breathe as he looks into my eyes, peering deep into my soul as though there was nobody else around and the world only belonged to the two of us.
He grins, spinning me around and half-walking, half-dancing me back toward the bar. I’m relieved. Any more of that, and I might’ve forgotten what I came here to do.
I sit back down at the bar with Akim, and he leans in, his breath smelling of tobacco and spearmint. “I hope you weren’t punching anyone when I was away.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, yeah, I was hoping I could relive the night over again by seeing my ex grinding on my sister,” I reply, partially joking and partially hurt at the fresh memory.
