Sᴇᴘᴛᴇᴍʙᴇʀ 13. 2024.
Cool Autumn breeze whisks at Alessia dress as soon as they exit the vehicle. Katya leads her pass the line and straight to the front where the bouncer greets her with a charming smile. She tells him that Alessia is with her and he lets them in to her dismay, receiving groans and curses from the people behind.
The music comes to her in a low rhythm, thumping; her heart begins to pump in beat as it gets louder. Katya smirks and Alessia stands still, looking out at the grinding, river of sweat and hormones on the dancefloor.
"Let's get you drunk first." She hears her say and turns to look at her wordlessly. Katya winks like the troublemaker she is, adding, "By the way, this isn't our party."
"Then, where?" Alessia breathes out nervously.
"Remember I said 'underground'." She quotes with bunny ears on her fingers. "There's no bar we can sit at down there and you'll be on your feet the whole night. So, let's get you drunk first." She repeats, and with that, Kat places a hand at the square of her back and guides her to the bar.
Once seated, Alessia can feel the coldness of the stool pressed against her skin and she cringes, freaking out internally that it isn't sanitary. Why did she put on a thong instead of boxers? She always wear boxers...oh...right, Katya chose everything for her to wear.
"I think I'll stand..."
"Sit." Kat pushes her back when she leans forward to get up.
"What can I get you ladies?" a kind face pops up before them and an automatic smile lights up Katya's face.
She says, "My friend here is having a drink for the first time. Line out ten shots--" TEN?! Alessia turns to her with her eyes about to fall out, but Katya isn't paying attention to the horror written on her face. "--of what's trending on the shelves." She pats the counter, then finally glances at her friend, smiling, "You might be a lightweight, so you can stop whenever, okay?"
The girl with short, white waves on her head, black eyeshadow faded into silver, winged eyeliner and matte, burgundy lipstick, exhales heavily through her nostrils and rolls her eyes. Her mismatched gaze almost dazzles the bartender when he sees them. He grins lopsidedly, before willing himself to move to get their order, hoping to get a number afterwards.
While waiting for the drinks, Alessia spins on her stool, tilting her head at the dancing crowd. Before you know it, her head is bobbing to the EDM music. 'I guess I like it,' she thinks, then freezes up momentarily when someone catches her attention. The fast track dulls to a soft echo around her; he's dressed in a loose, black t-shirt and black jeans. He's jumping in the sea of people, having fun, but his stress is clear on his neon lit face. He wears black sketchers with white bottoms on his feet, bright red hair flopping on his head and, under the streaming lights, you can never miss those dark freckles.
"Lexy."
She whirls around at the nickname, seemingly coming back to life.
"Now is not the time for that, we're here to relax." Katya scolds, referring to her spacing out. "Here."
Alessia looks down at the ten shot glasses of alcohol lined out before her. She's frowning, breathing a bit heavier and she grabs the first shot without thinking and throws it back frustratingly. Immediately, she begins to choke, heaving at the raw vodka to which Kat reaches out to give her support. She shakes her head roughly, clearing her throat and she snatches up the second glass, staring blankly ahead.
Alan Whittaker should be dead.