❛ 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ❜ ━ miguel o'hara

𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐦

I spear a hoop earring through my ear with chilling precision, muttering the lyrics to a song playing in the background as I search my bathroom countertop for my extensive amount of hair products.

I improvise the lyrics, only vaguely familiar with the verses of the song, as I select a plastic bottle from the vast assortment of gels, sprays, leave-in conditioners, and mousse.

I've practically moved into my bedroom at HQ, and now the mini-apartment radiates my energy and scent.
Throw blankets from my own apartment lay scattered across the couch, and candles brought from home decorate every table and counter. I spend an excessive amount of time here, so why not make it feel more homey?

I inhale the sweet, coconut scent of the product as I coat my hands in the substance, slathering a generous amount into my dark curls. The scent, a mix of shea and coconut, mixes with the warm smell of the candle placed on the corner of my bathroom counter. The tiny flame dances, the candle wick thin and curling by now.

I've decided to take full advantage of my day off, and put Simone's wise advice into action.

My thoughts are further from Miguel than ever as I shimmy into a tight party dress, hopping up and down as I yank the fabric over my breasts. Locating the zipper is a struggle, but I manage to zip up the black latex mini-dress anyways.

I give my makeup, a dark glittery look perfect for the nightlife, final touches before exiting the bathroom. A few tiny rhinestones decorate my painted eyelids, and my lined lips shine glossily.

I yank on a pair of heels and sling my purse over my shoulder before exiting my room.

It's 11pm, and HQ is quiet. Unsettlingly so.
The only audible sound is the clack of my high-heels against the sleek flooring as I make my way down to the lobby.
Navigating the intricate hallways designed specifically for Spider-People proves to be tedious in high-heels, but I manage to do so anyways without having to stick to any walls.

The full moon shines brightly outside, but I'll hardly get a glimpse of its beauty tonight.
I'm heading to my favorite nightclub, located in the underground district of Nueva York— my district. I haven't been there since the night I was bitten by that spider.

I give HQ one final glance for the night before climbing into the backseat of a driverless taxi, trying my best to push thoughts of Miguel away.

I can imagine the man vividly, slaving away tirelessly on his work platform.
Does he ever have nights like these? Nights of carefree self indulgence and enjoyment? It's hard to imagine him in such a casual setting, laughing over beers with friends.
He's an enigma. A complete mystery.

I shake my head to myself with a tiny sigh, gazing out the backseat window of the vehicle as the car pulls up in front of the club.

My senses are assaulted as soon as I step foot in the nightclub.

Instantly, I'm hit with a wave of different sensations, good and bad.
I almost stumble in my tall heels, just now recalling my heightened senses and the fact that everything is 10x more potent. The fact that everything sounds, tastes, smells, and feels much stronger to my body has proven to be both a blessing and a curse. I'm still adjusting to it.

The scent of weed wafts in the air, and music blares throughout the building. I squint, the brutal strobe lights already giving me a slight headache. I suck in air through my teeth.

Yeah...forgetting about Miguel will be no problem.

I weave my way through the thick crowd of dancing, drunken bodies, making my way to the sleek bar. I slide onto a stool and hand the young bartender a generous amount of cash, requesting a shot of tequila.
Drinking hard liquor alone is no fun, but I
know I need to loosen up a bit in order to relax.
My personal history with drinking has proven that tequila is especially effective in "loosening up".