DISCLAIMER:
This book will contain smut with kink, drug use and violence.
HARU:
A hot and sweaty excuse for a night out is what it is when my three closest friends eventually manage to drag me out. I stumble through the door of a headache-inducing club, baffled as to just how they've gotten me out of the apartment in the first place.
I had been quite content slumped at my home office's desk, lights off, posture poor and black coffee in hand. At nearly halfway through writing the plot for a new novel my publishers were pining for, the trio arrived (uninvited) at my front door. They'd barged in, hyped up for a night out even though it was a damn Sunday, and shaken some life into me.
"Fucking hell." I grumble, narrowly dodging the spikey heels of a tiny blonde on a mission to find the toilets, "It's packed."
"What'd you expect, big guy?" Leon laughs over his shoulder, leading the way as usual.
I shrug, "Before you guys abducted me? A quiet Sunday night in."
"Quiet nights don't exist in London, my friend." I feel a hand clasp my shoulder. Naksh grins at me under the multi-coloured lights of wherever we are, silent sympathy swimming behind those dark brown eyes of his. He's never the ringleader of these sorts of outings, it's almost always Leon or Alek's doing.
"Damn right they don't!" Alek slips past us, catching up with Leon who is busy weaving in and out of the grinding, inebriated dancers, "C'mon, we're gonna miss it otherwise."
"Miss what..?" I nervously chuckle. I'm not especially dressed for clubbing, though I managed to throw together a semi-decent, beige outfit with a baggy shirt thrown on top for layering.
I still feel stupid. Clubs aren't my favourite things in the world, I much prefer getting high in Alek's apartment or going to bars to play pool.
"The show, big guy." Leon informs me, carding a hand through his obscenely gelled, black hair, "I got Sandra to get us a table right upfront. Cool, right?"
My brown eyes narrow in suspicion. Sandra is a lovely girl, but her profession means she leaves little to the imagination in any scenario. Clothes seem to be an archaic concept in her world; if she had it her way everyone would parade the streets stark naked. She's a stripper. I can't exactly fault her for it, apparently the pay is great and she always seems to have more money on hand than sense.
Nevertheless, if Sandra Pooles is involved, it means that this 'show' at the very least borders on promiscuous.
"I don't know if I—"
"Awh, c'mon, man. You kidding right now?" Alek frowns, knowing exactly what I'm about to say, "We're here to cheer you up, this is for you."
What a big, fat lie.
I'd been in a foul mood for a number of reasons before the guys turned up and convinced me to go out with them, but by no means does that mean any of this is for me. They all know me well enough to guess that watching a woman slide up and down a pole is not my idea of fun.
"If you're going to lie, at least be more subtle about it." I mutter, earning a sly snicker from Naksh. I love my friends, I really do, but I've been forced to live in the real world from a young age and they most definitely still think getting laid and partying is the pinnacle of life.
We're at very different points in our lives, with different responsibilities and goals. But I know if I didn't have them around I'd probably stay cooped up in my apartment smoking weed all day. And what's the fun in that if you're all alone?
"Try to enjoy yourself, hm?" Naksh suggests, flashing me a crooked smile. He's a short man with unruly black hair and brown skin, a full beard on his smiley face that he keeps cropped short. Naksh makes a habit out of wearing brightly coloured shirts. His neon pink and sunny yellow top is a far cry from my beige, button-down shirt and white tee.
"I've been trying to since you guys busted into my flat." I sigh, losing sight of Leon and Alek for a second, "You got any weed on you?"
"Nah, but Leon probably does." Of course he does, the man is a walking pharmacy. Cartel might be more suitable.
We make our way up a brief set of steps that lead to a more secluded area of the nightclub. Alek briefly speaks to a beefy, stoic looking security guard who eventually pulls back a black, velvet curtain and gestures for us to slip past it.
The large room we walk into is filled with half naked men and women near-fucking on every surface in the vicinity. The lighting is a lot darker, red-themed and intentionally sensual. Every table seems to be occupied aside from an empty four-seater next to a raised stage with three, steel poles on it that all reach the ceiling.
"Fuckin' hell." I puff a quiet breath of air out. It isn't what I expected at all; it's so much worse.
"You like it, huh?" Leon wiggles his thin eyebrows at me, wiping a hand along his jaw repeatedly like he's just done something incredible, "The women, Haru, just think of the women."
"It stinks of sex in here." I state, settling into a chair and slumping like I usually do, "This is just pure exhibitionism, y'know that, right?"
"My God, you're so dramatic." Alek sniggers, his bleach blond buzzcut flashing whatever colour the lights change to, "When was the last time you got your dick wet again?"
Crude as ever.
"Hey." Naksh warns, "When was the last time you didn't jump into bed with the first girl that gave you a second glance? Huh?"
Alek holds his hands up in a mock surrender, "I'm just saying, Haru's an attractive lad, we all know this. But he's dodging females left, right and centre like they're all bloody diseased or something."
"Let the man do what he wants." Naksh rolls his eyes, "You're just tired of girls asking you for Haru's number instead of your own."
Alek hisses with humour, "Jey-sus! It's on for anyone that ruffles your feathers, I see."
"Whatever, man." Naksh shakes his head with an easy smile, "First round is on you."
"You got it." Alek clicks his tongue, "What're we ordering, fellas? I'm starting straight on the Beldevere."
"You Polish people and your bloody vodka." Leon laughs, "I'll have a Jack and Coke."
"Just a Stella for now, thanks." Naksh requests.
Alek turns to me with a knowing grin, "Let me guess, you fancy a joint, so no alcohol?"
"You know me all too well, boss." I chuckle, watching as he walks backwards pointing gun fingers at me. He ends up bumping into a waitress.
I turn my head in Leon's direction at the sound of a lighter flicking on and off.
He's already grinning at me, "Welcome, to Leon Kutcher's Narcotics. And yes, that's trademarked."
"Piss off, you twat." I smirk, watching as he carefully pulls out a pre-rolled joint from his inside pocket and hands it to me.
"How much do I owe you?"
"Nothing." The brunette shrugs, "I know you've been having a rough time of it lately, might as well try to make that better for you with some free bud."
"You for real?" I grin, inspecting it thoroughly, "This looks like some fucking good shit, you sure?"
"Yeah, big guy." Leon flicks the lighter on and waits for me to lean forward with the joint already in between my lips. He lights it. I inhale, hold it, tilt my head back as the smoke idly drifts into the air. It always gives the same effect: weightlessness and serenity.
"It's smooth." I observe, taking another drag, "Thanks, man."
"No sweat, Ru."
Leon tends to be the unspoken leader of our little group. He is a staggering 6'4 tall with limbs so long he doesn't know what to do with them. Apparently he 'could go pro' at being a basketball player, but he isn't prepared to give up the highs and lows of drugs for an athletic career. The man's dark hair is almost always dowsed in a thick layer of gel and his skinny face makes his cheekbones prominently stick out, too. The ladies always seem to like that about him. He has hazel eyes, a thin nose with a bump in its bridge and slim eyebrows that have ended up that way because of a weird phase he went through a while ago. He had plucked them almost every day.
I told him to stop at the time, saying he'd end up with nothing left to pluck, but now we laugh about the peculiarity of it. The habit just popped up out of no where, Leon did far odder things whilst high anyway.
"See? Already enjoying yourself." Beams Naksh from beside me, always the optimist. Over the years, he's adopted the role of being the chirpy friend that keeps the rest of us from butting heads. And even now, at the ages of 24 or 25, we still often need him to stop us from throttling each other. I know he likes me to tell people about the dimples he has in either cheek. So I do. Because he always has my back, especially in the most difficult of situations.
Just as I exhale another breath of smoke, feeling the effects of marijuana settle into my system, a stunning girl with fiery red hair sashays past our table. My head is tilted against the back of my chair, when she makes eye contact with me I wink and give her a lazy smile.
She blushes, but holds her ground and plants her black heels in front of my chair.
Leon sighs under his breath, "Here's number one of the night."
"Hello, gorgeous." I smirk, the smoke makes my voice raspier than usual.
"Hi." The woman's blue eyes sparkle down at me and her hand plants itself on the arm of my chair, "Are you supposed to be smoking that in here?" She teases.
"I do what I want, darling." Her slim fingers trail along my forearm, I flicker my gaze down to wherever her hand moves. My eyes squint as I make out the distinct gleam of a diamond on her ring finger. She's married.
One of the many reasons I keep well away from women.
"So do I." All of a sudden I'm not attracted to her anymore, cheaters make me feel sick, "Would you rather watch the show, or have me put on a private one for you?"
I gently push her slim hand away from me, "Sorry, sweetheart, I don't fuck married women. Not even if I'm high as a kite."
Her blush from earlier returns, though this time it's paired with embarrassment. Caught red-handed, the woman hurries away from our table to wherever she's supposed to be; probably in her husband's lap.
"Do you know how pretty you gotta be to make a married woman want to cheat on her husband?" Leon cackles, eyes pinning on someone behind me, "Drinks are here."
A moment later, Alek places three drinks on our table and makes himself comfy again, "What'd I miss?"
"A Mrs pretending to be a Miss." Leon fills in, though his riddle does little to aid Alek's confused expression, "A married woman just asked Haru if he wanted to bump uglies."
"Bump uglies." I mumble to myself, finding his word choice rather funny and silently laughing.
"I would've done it." Alek proudly states.
I laugh, the joint dripping from between my lips as I lock both hands behind my head and relax, "Because you're a terrible human, Alek, that's why."
"Cat is cat, pretty boy." He nudges my elbow, "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do—"
"Aha!" I wheeze, pushing him away with a shake of my head, feeling fuzzy and giddy inside, "You're hopeless."
"I'm horny." He corrects.
"That, too. That, too." I let the last few chuckles filter out of me just as the lighting on the stage flashes brightly for a second before dimming into a dusky pink.
A small band on the other side of the stage has set up, a large woman with a greying afro taps on a microphone.
"Good evening, babies." She has a distinct American accent, something I don't regularly hear living in central London, "I'm your host and singer tonight, Cynthia Monroe. I'd like to give you all a sweet, warm welcome to Lady Ophelia's VIP Lounge."
"What's Lady Ophelia's?" I wonder, leaning towards Naksh for a quick answer.
"The club we're in, fool."
"Shh! It's starting!" Alek almost squeals. His excitement for anything erotic never ceases to amaze me, but the weed just makes me laugh at him.
"Woo." I deadpan, taking another drag.
Naksh chortles from beside me, "I can tell you really want to be here."
"The weed makes it bearable." I shrug, watching the lights dim until there's a gentle glow around the band and a faded, red spotlight surrounding the middle pole on stage.
"The most beautiful of ladies is here tonight," the woman speaks, soft and almost relaxing in her tone, "the woman I know you've all come to see. The shinning star of Lady Ophelia's and the body that's taking the city's nightlife by storm... C'mon in joining me as I welcome to the stage: Sedah Hades!"