Twisted Souls || Michael Langdon

Chapter Thirteen: Failure

"Not bad..." I smiled at my reflection and admired the sight in front of me, surprised that all the hours of preparation paid off.

A black strapless dress hugged my figure tightly, sheer material running down the front of my cleavage and barely concealing the sight beneath it. The dress ended a few inches above my knees and had a small slit on the right side, revealing my thigh in ways my mother would've deemed scandalous. Shining beneath my bedroom lights was a chunky necklace with genuine gold plates strung beneath my neck. Matching earrings were worn as well and were shown off proudly, while black Louboutin heels were strapped to my feet.

"Almost done." Swiping one last stroke of mascara over my eyelashes, I finished my look. My lips were painted a dark red color, while my eyelids were brushed over with nude eyeshadow that sparkled beneath the lights subtly. "Perfect!"

Taking one last look at the mirror, I twirled my curled black hair with my index finger and strutted to the living room. A black clutch was grasped within my hand as I made my way to the door, knowing that my Uber was waiting downstairs.

There was no way I was driving that night.

After giving the address of the seafood restaurant, the driver sped down the road, magically dodging the regular traffic that plagued Los Angeles. We skidded to a stop in front of the beachside restaurant and I got out of the car.

All eyes were on me as I strolled through the front door. The host gawked at me as I gave him my name, leading me to the table where my friends were.

"Holy shit." David's voice cracked when I sat down at the head of the table, while everyone else quieted down and stared at me in surprise.

"Close your mouth, darling, or else you'll catch flies." I smirked at David and patted his cheek in a condescending manner. Lillian, who sat on my left side, giggled as David blinked away, cheeks turning a vibrant red. Leaning back into my chair, I raised my hands to my other coworkers. "Relax, guys. You look like you've seen a ghost."

"You-You just look... Wow-You're hot!" Trevor, one of the newly hired therapists, gasped out. He covered his mouth in astonishment once he realized what he had said. "I-I'm sorry! I don't know where that came from."

"Thank you, Trevor. Anyway, all of you look equally amazing tonight." A friendly smile bloomed on my lips to ease the attention from Trevor and I. A chorus of gratitude was sent my way by everyone else on the table. "Now, did anyone actually order anything? I'm starving!"

Two hours of sitting at the restaurant flew by. It was filled with light conversations, about work, personal lives, and the latest celebrity gossip. By the time the check arrived, I was gasping for breath, tears threatening to flow down my cheeks from the amount of laughter I had expelled the entire time. Genuine happiness and amusement coursed through my veins and I fondly admired everyone at the table, grateful that I had such a wonderful group of friends and coworkers who all knew how to have fun. The ten of us sipped on our Moscatos, Cosmopolitans, and Bourbon like water, all the while escaping all the stress our work offered to us.

By the time we made it to the club, we were all slightly tipsy. A thin layer of alcohol blanketed my mind as I sauntered through the dance floor as colorful beams of light shot through the air. Smoke machines blew clouds on our feet, bodies bumping into one another while music blared through the speakers. Once we managed to claim a table at the corner of the club, I had ordered us a round of shots.

"Here's to this fabulous night out with all of you, this sick club, and the shit ton of alcohol we're all about to drink!" Lillian yelled before we all threw our heads back and downed the tequila in one swift gulp.