Naomi
The club's vibrant neon lights flickered and pulsed, casting kaleidoscopic patterns across the sea of dancing bodies. The thumping bass reverberated through the air, infusing the atmosphere with an electrifying energy. It was the perfect place to celebrate our successful document theft operation, a job well done in our line of work.
Harry, Niall, and I found an empty booth nestled in a dimly lit corner of the club. We'd already had a few drinks, the clinking of glasses and raucous laughter punctuating the lively ambiance around us. Our celebration was in full swing.
I used to go to clubs with my friends a lot but quit some time ago. I did not expect that my return to such places will be with such people, but I am glad that I can dance again with good music.
"Vodka or weed?"
"Why the 'or'? Straight?"?
"No gay. Of course it's straight. And the 'or' was because you're not taking both at once." Harry said.
"I'm not stupid, I know how much I can drink and how much I can smoke Harry." I know moderation and I know my capability.
Harry, seeing my determination, just shrugged and ordered a few glasses of alcohol at the bar. Turning towards me, he said, "But if you throw up in my car, you'll visit the other world-" he pointed with his finger at the ceiling "-there to heaven".
We sat down together with the alcohol at the round table on the side. On the dance floor, people danced and rubbed against each other to the beat of loud music.
I drank two shots at once, feeling the familiar warmth of alcohol spreading through my veins. Harry leaned back, his expression relaxed for once, while Niall shared an funny story with us, his laughter contagious.
Then Niall took out a joint, lit it, and began to smoke. He blew smoke and smiled. He handed me a roll of weed and I happily took over and started smoking.
"You don't seem inexperienced, does your mom know this is how you have fun?" Harry asked with slight amusement in his voice.
I took a drag and then lazily turned back and forth, "Do you see her in here somewhere? Exactly, no, and I don't think she cares what I'm doing." I handed Harry the joint in response to his question.
A few puffs are enough for me to feel really good and start wanting to have a great time in the club. Not thinking any longer, I got up from the table, two pairs of eyes went to my "I'm going to dance". Without waiting for a reply, I walked towards the crowd on the dance floor.
The current song changed to a song by The Pussycat Dolls 'Don't Cha' so my mood improved even more and my hips started swaying by themselves. In an instant, I blended in with the crowd and started to dance.
So banging, shorty like a belly dancer with it
Smell good, pretty skin, so gangsta with it, oh, baby.
Yeah oh baby, I fucking love this song.
Once on the dance floor, I surrendered to the music's embrace. My body moved with a newfound freedom, swaying to the beat as I lost myself in the electrifying atmosphere. The world outside the club, with its complications and dangers, felt like a distant memory.
It used to be my weekly tradition to go to clubs, but then my ex-boyfriend came, so I started going to such places less often, and then not at all. Sometimes I even missed it.
I felt someone rubbing against my back a little harder, and then I was praying for person not to be disgusting, nasty man type, because I don't want my good mood to went shit, but when I turned around, it turned out that they were two other girls.
We started dancing together and singing to the song.
I know you like me (I know you like me)
I know you do (I know you do)
Alcohol hit me harder, so any shyness was forgotten. For this reason, I liked going to clubs, I could forget about my problems for a while, dance with sometimes even strangers whom I would never meet again.
We danced together, our movements fluid and synchronized, as if we had been friends for years. The song's playful lyrics filled the air, and we sang along, united in our love for a good time.
As the music enveloped us, I felt a sense of belonging, a connection with these strangers who had become instant dance partners. In that moment, the worries of our dangerous profession and the complexities of our relationships faded away. All that mattered was the joy of the present, the pulsating beat, and the exhilaration of dancing the night away.
One of the girls grabbed my hand and turned me 180 degrees, then turned around herself and slapped her back against mine. When the chorus came, we instinctively leaned against each other, bending on our knees and going down to a low squat.
As I continued to dance with my newfound friends on the pulsating dance floor, a mischievous idea took root in my mind. The infectious rhythm of "Don't Cha" urged me to be playful, and I couldn't resist the temptation.
My eyes darted toward the distant booth where Harry sat, his gaze fixed on me. Our eyes locked, and an impish grin tugged at the corners of my lips. With the lyrics of the song echoing in my ears, I began to lip-sync them, my eyes never leaving his.
Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?
I mouthed the words, exaggerating my movements to match the playful tone of the song. A sly sparkle danced in my eyes as I continued to perform for him.
Don't cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?
I taunted playfully, accentuating every syllable as I swayed to the music. The corner of Harry's mouth curled into a knowing smirk, a silent acknowledgment of the playful banter.
With a mischievous glint in his eye, he moved his lips, forming the word with unmistakable clarity "wife", then turned to Niall's side and continued talking to him.
Harry's presence in the distance only added to the intrigue of the night. The playful banter we had exchanged had injected a sense of curiosity into our already complicated relationship. But in the midst of the pulsating beats and the vibrant atmosphere, I chose to let go of my worries and simply enjoy the exhilaration of the dance floor.
The night was young, the music was infectious, and for now, I was content to lose myself in the rhythm and let the cares of the world fade away. And I continued to dance with a group of girls and had a great time. See? I don't even know their names and we danced together anyway as if we'd been friends for years.
After a few songs, someone took the microphone and said, "We are glad that you are having a good time, but it's time to taste some light competition. Please leave a place on the dance floor, it's time for karaoke competicion."
Fulfilling the guy's request, I left the dance floor, heading towards the table. I sat up and suddenly Niall said, "So what's Naomi, what are we singing?"
I turned my head towards him. "We?"
He nodded, "Yes, we. And we'll even win, I tell you."
"I am not singing with you." Harry said, sipping a drink from the glass.
"Where did I ask? I can only sing with Naomi." The blonde replied with a little laugh as he pulled out his phone and looked through the songs "Tupac?"
I was happy, because why not sing, I said "How about High School Musical?" Niall formed an o-shaped mouth and smiled even more.
"Oh sweet Jesus, how about Elvis?" We started exchanging new possibilities and we laughed when I suddenly heard a loud sigh from the brunet. Harry shook his head, squeezed his eyes shut, and tilted his head back against the backrest.
"With all due respect to High School Musical and Elvis, we won't win with something like that."
We?
"We?" Niall asked in surprise and then quickly turned his head towards me, "I think he's really drunk. It was quick. You were just saying that you are not singing with us."
Harry just rolled his eyes and added, "People like karaoke, but to vote for you they have to remember you, Jesus." He opened the phone and started browsing the songs "Okay, everybody knows Poker Face, we'll sing this song."
I raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised that Harry was not only willing but eager to participate in the karaoke competition. He must have been exceptionally intoxicated to be this uninhibited.
Then he approached the man who had previously urged others to take part in the competition via the microphone. He waving his hand for us to come over. The man briefly thanked the previous group of four people who sang one of Rihanna's songs.
I whispered to Harry "What happened that you changed your mind?" He answered me quickly.
"I like to compete, especially when I know I will win. And I always win, so why not. But it's a one-off action." He said boldly, taking the microphone from the party leader.
"Naomi, Niall and Harry." He introduced us quickly, pointing at each of us in turn.
"We'll sing Lady Gage, hope you like it." He turned to me, handed me the other microphone and whispered, "I hope you can sing a little bit."
Well, I may not have a Whitney Houston voice, but I also don't squeal when I sing. "We will win emo boy, easy peasy." He smiled at me for a second.
The alcohol began to hit even harder, so I wasn't scared when I saw dozens of people staring in our direction. It's good that we went to the apartment for a moment and I changed into a similar dress, but a short one, because in this long one I would kill myself walking around this club.
I heard the beginning of the song and looked at the guys. Niall was smiling like crazy and Harry gave a look that he would start singing the first verse.
The audience's curiosity was piqued as they watched us, a trio of unlikely performers, prepare to take the stage. But any apprehension was quickly dispelled as the first notes of the song filled the air.
I never thought he was so confident when it comes to performing in front of an audience. Maybe it's just the weed or the vodka, who knows.
I wanna hold 'em like they do in Texas, please
Fold 'em, let 'em hit me, raise it, baby, stay with me
He looked and Niall and the blonde one sang right away.
I love it
Wow, I didn't expect him to sing so well, it quickly turned out that he wasn't lying when he spoke about karaoke moments ago, he knows what to do to make people remember him. He began to walk around the stage and make small hip movements to the beat of the music. For a moment it hit me and I was impressed, because as I mentioned before, I didn't expect it from him. Rather, I thought he had a stick in his ass and could only whine and complain about everything and everyone.
With every second of the melody, he moved more, danced more, and showed himself from a side I had never seen him from before. He would walk up to people and sing right into their eyes.
Everyone clapped on the beat and it only gave him more self-confidence.
As the chorus approached, we threw ourselves into the song with abandon. The crowd cheered us on, their energy fueling our own. We danced and sang as if we were the only people in the room, our worries and troubles forgotten for the moment.
Niall delivered his lines with charisma, his stage presence evident as he engaged with the audience. Harry, though clearly intoxicated, exuded a playful charm, adding a layer of entertainment to our performance.
And I? I embraced the freedom of the night, relishing every moment of our impromptu performance. The chorus came, and we sang the iconic lines together.
Can't read my, can't read my
No, he can't read my poker face
(She's got me like nobody)
But compared to the guys, I don't seem to have as much fun as they do. They both dance across the stage and sing loudly in male but handsome voices. Of course, I do not stand like a pole, I also try to dance, but what I see is too much for me, and I just can't get over how a man who literally hangs out with people who can kill, maybe he is killing himself, is now dancing and singing Poker Face.
My rush of thoughts was interrupted by a hand woven into mine, as I looked up, my eyes collided with the green ones. He turned me one full turn and fell to his knees. I heard the second verse begin so I started to sing, but the first thing I did was seize the opportunity and lift my leg up and put it on Harry's thigh, who is currently staring at me from below.
Russian roulette is not the same
without a gun
Singing, I leaned over to him, and he just mouths the song with me while keep looking at me.
And baby, when it's love, if it's not rough, it isn't fun
The crowd roared in approval, and we couldn't help but smile. For those few minutes, we were united in song, our differences and complications forgotten in the joy of the performance.
As the final notes of "Poker Face" echoed through the club, we took our bows amidst thunderous applause. It was a moment of pure fun and spontaneity, a reminder that even in the midst of chaos and uncertainty, there could still be moments of lightheartedness and connection.
As we left the stage, still basking in the afterglow of our performance, I couldn't help but glance at Harry. He looked disheveled and carefree, a stark contrast to the reserved and guarded man I had come to know. It was a side of him I hadn't seen before, and it left me wondering about the complexities of his character.
But for now, we were simply three friends, caught up in the exhilaration of the night, and ready to embrace whatever adventures awaited us next.
As we sat down at the table, Niall spoke first, "We were great, if we don't win this-" Harry quickly interrupted him, "We'll win."
While the other people were singing, he went to order shots at the bar and we had a few more, I'm not sure how many. The three of us were already pretty drunk. My image started to blur but I still had a lot of fun. I haven't been drunk for a long time.
We laughed at everything as we waited impatiently for the result of the competition.
Niall went to the bathroom and we were left at the table alone with Harry. I was watching the other people on the stage carefully, not paying too much attention to the man sitting next to me.
Suddenly I felt a warm breath on my neck and a moment later I heard a whisper in my ear "You're pretty".
I turned my head slightly towards him, we both had drunken smiles on our faces. I leaned into his ear, "Tell me this when you're sober and I'll thank you for it."
"I always think you're pretty, no matter if I'm drunk or sober." I smiled more at these words, still looking into his eyes and nodding my head, mumbling "Mmm, for sure".
Suddenly Niall separated us, coming from behind us and bumping his head between ours. "What are we gossiping about?"
"You." Harry changed his tone, answering unpleasantly, mean and sighing.
"Thank you for all the performances, you can vote by throwing a piece of paper in the bucket with the names of people you think should win." The man on the stage spoke up.
Moments later, the votes were counted and of course, "Attention, attention. The winners are ... Charlie's angels, that is... Niall, Naomi and Harry, we invite you for the award."
With the euphoria of our karaoke victory, we decided to collect our prize from the stage. As we made our way up, the cheering and applause from the audience only intensified, adding to the electric atmosphere of the night.
But just as we were reaching the stage, Harry, in his inebriated state, decided to add an unexpected twist to our triumphant moment. With surprising strength, he effortlessly lifted me off the ground and hoisted me over his shoulder.
I couldn't help but gasp in surprise as I found myself in this unorthodox position, my laughter bubbling up in response to Harry's move. The short dress I was wearing suddenly seemed longer, covering my ass and any potential embarrassment.
The crowd erupted in laughter and cheers as Harry proudly carried me towards the stage, my legs dangling over his shoulder. Niall, not missing a beat, stood beside us, grinning from ear to ear, clearly amused by the whole spectacle.
I couldn't stop laughing as we reached the stage, where the emcee handed us our prize—a gleaming trophy and a round of drinks. Harry carefully set me back on my feet, and together we accepted our winnings, our laughter infectious.
It was a moment of sheer joy and spontaneity, and I couldn't have asked for better company to share it with. Despite the alcohol and weed coursing through our veins and system, the bond between us felt stronger than ever, and the night was far from over.
As we made our way back to our booth, still chuckling at Harry's impromptu display of strength, I couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment. The worries and complications of our lives had momentarily faded into the background, replaced by the simple pleasure of laughter.
But the last thing I remember and hear were Niall's words seconds later, looking at our prize "Guys, I have an idea".
꧁꧂
Headache, sunlight, something on my waist, feeling sick, nice sheets, city sounds from a distance, sore mouth, wait a minute, something on my waist.
I opened my eyes quickly, trying to move, but a large hand held tightly to my lower back, hugging me even tighter with my every move.
I looked down quickly, luckily I was fully dressed and after a while my eyes went up. It's Harry, holding me tight and hugging me. Is he still drunk? Where is Niall? What happened yesterday after receiving our award? I do not remember anything.
It was even a pleasant feeling, I have not been hugged for a long time, and especially lying on the bed, I have forgotten what it feels like. However, I couldn't bear this feeling any longer and I started to move harder to free myself from Harry's embrace.
He began to groan in a sleepy voice, and after a while he lifted his hand slightly from my waist. I rose gently from the lying position and sat on the bed, Niall was lying on the pillow on the floor, snoring softly.
Everything hurts, my head, muscles, throat, even my mouth. "Everything hurts." I heard a man lying next to me.
"I don't remember anything, do you?" I asked in a low hoarse voice.
"The last thing I remember was leaving the club, then a black void." He replied, rubbing his hands over his eyes.
He took the pillow from under his head and threw it at Niall who was sleeping on the floor with great force, "Do you remember what we were doing when we left the club? Everything fucking hurts." He asked.
"Yep, we went to collect our award." He replied yawning and keeping his eyes still closed. Then he turned the other side and fell asleep again.
Harry looked at me and raised an eyebrow. He asked the blonde what the award, but this time he did not answer him.
There was something wrong with Harry's appearance. "Your lips are very red and swollen", I pointed my finger gently at the pinkish area.
"Yours too."
Whoah, wait a fucking moment. I hope I'm wrong.
As if he was reading my mind, Harry jumped up from the bed, still staring at me. Both at the same time, we took each of our lower lips in our fingers and lifted them down.
We turned towards the hanging mirror on the wall and I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
We have matching lip fucking tattoos.
꧁꧂
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