|8|. Dynamite

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I took a few moments to gather myself. I wasn't about to go out there with stained mascara, looking like I had slammed myself face-first into a brick wall. I smoothed down the creases of my dress and completely wiped off my nude lipstick from my mouth. I'm very sure it wouldn't have survived the kiss completely unscathed.

I tried my best to fix the strands that had escaped my french chignon. I gave a small sigh. I had done the best I could do in this dark nook. I just hoped that I didn't look completely ravished when I stepped out of here.

I made my way through the crowd quickly. At least as quickly as I could with these damn heels. I gave the occasional smile when anyone looked my way while avoiding bumping into people. I was so not in the mood for meaningless conversation even if it was something as simple as muttering an apology. I didn't really know anyone here so it was okay.

Thankfully, I reached the ornate double doors and after collecting my shawl, entered the lobby using the elevators. Wrestling my way through the heavy throng of reporters and journalists gathered to capture moments or to put it more aptly 'juicy gossips' of the gala, I hailed a cab and gave him the address of the club that Sam had texted me.

I bit my lip, tensed and worried. Tom had sounded so drunk on the phone. Seeing Audrey and Marco engaged must have been the last straw for him. At least Sam was with him to restrain him until I got there.

A few minutes later the cab pulled up at a brick building, where a huge sign that read 'Till Dawn Nightclub' was lit in dark flashing red. I paid the driver and after thanking him left the cab. Loud music could be heard even from outside the club where I stood. Some loose stragglers loitered about the club, some smoking, others discussing in groups. There was even a man snoring loudly at the corner, an empty bottle at his side with a stale cigar stuck between his lips. Two huge, heavily muscled men dressed in all black stood guard at the entrance of the club. They must be the bouncers.

I turned up my nose at the sight. Not that I was judging anyone, I had been quite the screw loose as a teenager. Why had Tom chosen this place of all places? How had he even known this place?

Some of the men glanced towards me in curiosity. I knew that my dress was not exactly suited for clubs but what could I do, the situation was kind of impromptu!

Ignoring their inquisitive stares that was quite frankly lewd and unnerving, I clutched my purse tighter and entered into the club. I immediately wished I hadn't. I should have used my hands to cover my ears instead. I didn't know whether it was because it had been so long I went to this sort of place but I felt like my eardrums were being torn to pieces. The music was so loud and with the drunk and semi-drunk people cheering and hollering while grinding each other on the dancefloor, it wasn't helping matters at all.

Rainbow coloured neon and disco ball lights lit up the room in different shades of colours; down from the deepest green to the palest pink. The downstairs was crammed full with people and the upstairs was also filled too. There was an open space where those that were upstairs could see what's happening downstairs and vice versa. Leveled up onto a stage the DJ stood with a headset, nodding his head excitedly to whatever jam he felt like dishing out to the hungry crowd who embraced the music like it was a long lost friend wholeheartedly.

A light brown haired man, drunk obviously, staggered up to me, an almighty smirk resting on his lips. He was quite tall with brown eyes dulled by alcohol. He held a glass containing swirly reddish-brown liquid in his left hand, and crossed his legs at the ankles. No doubt, he thought it looked sensual and seductive but his movements were too jerky and uncoordinated to ever be.

"Wanna dance?" He slurred, angling his body languorously a little to the side to lean on something but evidently he was trying too hard because what his alcohol-addled brain failed to notice was that there was absolutely nothing there except, of course, air and he ended up falling to an unceremonious heap on the floor at my feet. The glass previously in his hand shattered into a million pieces, spilling liquid onto the floor.

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