𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐲 𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐏 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐅 𝐎 𝐔 𝐑

"Celia." I answered.

"Well, you look ravishing tonight, Celia."

My cheeks reddened and warmed. I couldn't prevent it from happening, it was a natural body's response to react when one received a compliment such as that.

Ravishing.

Who even used such words anymore? A gentleman?

"Alright Chad cut it out before you scare her off." She waved at herself. "I'm here, do you think you could get us in?"

Ah, right. We were here for certain reasons. This wasn't about having a get together to reminisce about the old days we had together.

Or about the time we had lost. This was about that night, that night I hated talking about.

"Yeah sure but watch out for Mat-"

He started saying the beginning of someone's name but had gotten cut off by El who relinked our arms together and led us straight through the backdoor, despite Chad calling out her name.

"Thanks for the heads up." She yelled loudly, walking through the doors without looking back.

I silently panicked, what if we were caught from the person Chad tried to warn us about?

El didn't seem worried or bothered by Chad's statement but it didn't stop the thoughts from coursing through my head. Sweat trailed down my collar bone.

Swiftly I turned locked eyes with Chad before he slowly disappeared from the view. He looked at me with worried eyes and an unreadable expression on his face.

I turned. "Come on Celia, let's find some seats."

We stepped inside of the building and found seats quickly, given the majority of people were on the dance floor with crazed bright lights flashing down on them.

I inhaled and sighed deeply in the chair, reminiscing the smell of strong booze and cigarettes.

I didn't realize how much I had missed the smell or found myself comforted by the smell. Most of my happy moments in New York were surrounded by two smells. Booze and cigarettes.

I took in the scene in front of me. It was dark, the lights were set low with lights flashing in different directions from the ceiling.

It reminded me a bit of a disco party except for the amount of people who fell out of place dressed in fancy clothing and three piece suits.

There were a few businessmen I spotted and recognized from my father's company or online articles seated with cigars in their mouths, lost in deep conversations.

A waitress walked over towards them with refilled drinks.

I rolled my eyes at this. I didn't understand why they couldn't get up and order their own drinks.

I turned back towards the bar and waved down the bartender with my hand tapping against the pub table following the beat of the song.

The bartender walked over. "What can I get for you?"

"Ballantine. Neat please." He eyed me for a second but I shrugged it off.