When I think of a nightclub, I think of strobe lights and bodies gyrating. Rap music and maybe some pop hits, Lots of standing room, drinks flowing and people wasted. I remember darkrooms from back home with people shoulder to shoulder, vibing to the music. I recall seeing DJ amping up the crowd and slowing it down towards the end of the night. I had never been to a VIP section, but I had seen it high in clubs and it was always an open space.
This place was nothing like that. This place was huge and lavish. I guessed this was how upper crest society partied. There were no strobe lights. Instead, the room we entered was bright and looked like a ballroom with furniture. The bar lined one wall. It was white and lit up like a Christmas tree. The chairs in front of it were white as well, with high backs lined with led lights. Three large chandeliers hung above the bar. The floor was white and red and white couches sat at odd angles through the room. In front of the couches were small red tables already holding glasses and a bucket of champagne.
In the center of the room, a section of the floor was elevated, stairs led up to a square, lined with white leather and fluffy pillows. There were a few red tables there, and a server stood waiting to serve whoever sat there. All I could think was who partied on white. Where I'm from, this room would be ruined by the end of the night.
I followed close behind Malcolm, who seemed to know everyone. Even with the mask on, they knew who he was. The men showed him respect, and the women lit up and ran to him for hugs. One of them kissed him in the mouth. I was about to ask if it was his girlfriend when another did the same thing. That shut me up quick. They lined up for it and I lost interest. It was looking like my cousin had groupies.
Looking around, I saw everyone had on a mask. Even the server and bartenders wore masks. Everything about this room made me want to be gentle and not break anything, except the bar. The bar looked inviting and empty. There were actually about one hundred people in this "club" and they all looked like stiffs. So much for fun. I started towards the bar when Malcolm stopped me.
He smiled, "We're going this way." He said, motioning with his head. He already had a drink, which surprised me because we just walked in.
"I want a drink too," I said, refusing to budge. If I was going to make it through this, I was drinking.
"Princess," he whispered, they will bring you one. I promise."
Still feeling stubborn, I added, "You better not get drunk, cousin, because you drove and you're driving."
Malcolm downed the drink and set the glass on a nearby table. "Last one, this night is about you escaping all the pressure. Come up let's sit."
I followed him to the elevated square and gingerly sat across from him. As so as I sat, the server came with a beaming smile, asking what I wanted to drink. Seriously, her smile was one hundred watts. I wanted a nice cold but light, but I didn't know if they had that, so I ordered a Ciroc and sprite, still feeling like I just don't belong.
"Relax." Malcolm consoled.
"I'm trying," I said through tight lips, as the server brought my drink. I took a sip and decided it was good and took another.
"What's the problem?" he asked, coming to sit beside me, to the disappointment of his groupies.
"I'm scared. I'll break something," I admitted.
Malcolm laughed. "There is nothing to break. This is all leather."
"This just isn't my scene. When you said party. I was thinking dancing and a dark room and maybe more people."
"The night is still young, and we just got here." Malcolm said, "I figured you wanted to start slow."
"I'm more of a fast to slow person." I told him, "I mean this is cool, but this reminds me of everything I'm trying to get away from."
"Like your wonderful fiance," he murmured.
"Yeah," I agreed, "Like him."
Malcolm huffed and rolled his eyes. "Are you going to marry that clown?"
Here we go through. He was about to go all I hate Cornell again. "It's not like I have a lot of a choice in it. Plus, Cornell was one of the first people I kind of like here. He isn't so bad. What is ya'll beef, anyway? I know this is not all because he is a man whore."
Malcolm thought for a moment, his eyes far away as if recalling memories. "Cornell and I go way back. We went to school together and let's just say He wasn't a fan of me and I didn't like him. We ran in different crowds and he was of the popular crowd. Then when ..." Malcolm stopped mid-word and looked away.
"He bullied you?" I asked, kind of not believing that. Cornell had his golden boy image to think about.
"You still want to dance?" he asked, changing the subject.
I let it go since he seemed to relive some painful memories, but I was dying to know what happened next. "Yes, If you're down, can we go somewhere with a little more life. I don't have all night. I have about two hours left."
"What happens then?"
I stood and smiled down at him, "I turn into a pumpkin."
Malcolm stood as well and shook his head. "We can't have that. Let's go."
He surprised me by going in the opposite direction of the entrance. He walked towards the back, greeting people as he moved. Soon we were walking down a dark hall, lined with doors on each side. At the end of the hall, there was a freight elevator with a guy to operate it waiting inside. He was massive and only nodded at us as we went in.
"Where are we going?" I asked, honestly kind of missing my security detail.
Malcolm smirked as the elevator lurched to life. "I'm gonna take you to your kind of party."
I smirked and lifted an eyebrow. "What do you know about my kind of party?"
He didn't reply. The doors to the elevator opened, and my jaw dropped.
Before me was a dark room decked out in blue and purple lights. There were hundreds of people jumping and dancing. Servers in skimpy clothes served drinks through the crowd. 'Lil Wayne, She Will' was playing and people were having a good old time. It was perfect.
"After you," Malcolm said.