BRIBE ME

1. PERFECT RUIN

Something about Thursday nights drew out the wolves for their frenzied prowl. The club heaved with the weight of bodies and bad decisions, last week's worries pickling in the piling glasses of liquid regret.

Laura Rain tossed a shot through her lips, the devil's honey blazing down her throat and washing away the sins of today.

On the surface, she was cool Laura. Calm and collected Laura. Got her shit together and ready to fire Laura.

But beneath her matte-red lips and onyx bangs, she was a perfect ruin. And considering what she was doing tonight, she was going to need more than one round of cleansing.

The glass in her fingers became her dancing partner as the synths launched into a heavenly high. This is how a real Thursday night should feel like, she thought while mentally patting herself on the back for answering the call of the club tonight. Work events be damned.

The bass thundered down her spine as the strobe flashed like a storm tearing through the sky. Laura's roaming eyes found her friend, who waltzed up playfully with a gleaming bottle of vodka in hand. Geri Guerlain swished her strawberry blonde mane and, with a flick of her wrist, Laura's glass goblet brimmed once more.

She grinned and blew her a loving kiss. Her friend and saviour.

She greedily consumed the burning nectar. Fire, meet flesh. The lava coated her throat with a warm hug that promised everything would be just fine and dandy.

Perhaps she should procure a peach brandy.

Shot number three got chummy with her brain and egged it on to mock the gyrating crowd. The smell of sweat and liquor swarmed her senses, but Laura wouldn't have it any other way – because the "other way" was spending three hours stuffed in a ballroom listening to businessmen stroke themselves over The Way Things Have Always Been and Will Always Be. The earth was trembling with change, yet those cavemen in suits were stubbornly slow-dancing in their crumbling caves.

She'd be laughing if her job wasn't on the line.

So she chose to abandon handshakes for hard liquor, and decided to watch strangers in the club wreck themselves instead. It made for much better entertainment. She could answer tomorrow's problems when they called.

Now the drop of dew at the base of her glass looked awfully lonely.

Laura waved to the bartender, but her weak flail fell away as two women shoved against the bar and decided they were the only ones who had doubts to drown. Sadly, Geri had been swept away by a dark and handsome distraction, and wasn't near enough to perform her divine miracle once again.

A groan rumbled in her red chest. She needed to do something about her endless need for a spiked drink. This can't be healthy, she chided herself. Maybe a good dance could work her urges away.

Or, perhaps, another shot.

Overcome with desperation, Laura braced to fling herself into the crowd when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She swivelled and came face-to-face with a pair of endless ocean eyes. They drowned her with such intensity that she could barely register anything else – except that this man was disrupting her own hunt with his.

"What!" she yelled into the music-clogged air, the shrill end of her voice ringing within her skull.

If the man heard her, he made no effort to show it. The devilishly sharp smirk on his face suggested he knew how handsome he was, but he still raised his eyebrows smugly to prove a point.

He gestured askance at her empty cup. She jabbed an accusing finger at the bartender, who was now glued to the two chicks at the other end of the bar.

Then, she shrugged, resigned to her fate of cradling an empty glass for the rest of the night.

Keeping his eyes on the crew, the man reached over the counter and pulled out a bottle of vodka. He winked at her and topped her glass to the brim before filling up his own.

Laura wasted no time rewarding her patience. The gulp kicked a primal part of her awake, and Monkey Brain offered the man a coy smile. His blue eyes sparkled as he returned the greeting and leaned in, his words pouring into her ear and constricting her leaping heart.

Through the thick fog of alcohol that mired her mind, she made out the words "let's" and "my place". Monkey Brain liked that.

Cynical Heart did not.

Before her lust grew into an unbeatable swell, she giggled and pulled away. The wolves were out for the kill tonight, but Laura was no lamb.

She bit her lip mockingly at the portrait of perfection before her – how could a person's face look so confused, yet so disturbingly handsome? – and pointed at him.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" she shouted.

Of course, the DJ decided his music was the only sound in the room that mattered, because all that Laura got in response was the sharp blast of an airhorn and the unamused shrug of Mr. Seafoam Eyes.

She abandoned her pursuit for the truth and waved him away. The four shots had convened in her brain and were plotting a heist to rob away her consciousness and drop her square on the dance floor.

Sleepy Drunk was taking over.

As if summoned by her buzzing brain, Geri materialised and whisked her out of the club, far away from the lure of the sea.

♥