Chapter 25
OLIVER
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I stood at the entrance of the club; a curl of nervousness threatening to make me gag.
The Romper was sticking to me like a second skin. I could feel it everywhere it touched. And I mean everywhere.
To think Casey had a dozen skin-tight clothes like these…I could not and would never comprehend how he would enjoy wearing these pieces of attire.
I’d taken 20 minutes just to fit into it and let’s not get into how I’m managing to walk in it. Thank god for Ubers because I would never have gotten into a public transport looking like a bedazzled lavender diamond that might die from asphyxiation-if that even makes sense.
The club entrance looked very realistic to an actual cave. As I began to enter, it felt like I was descending into a dark void that slowly embraced me. The entrance felt such at odds with the high-rise towers and modern infrastructure that it felt alien.
After walking a few feet, however, light began to fill the cave; a deep dark purple with a touch of red hue. The cave’s inner lining was interlinked with small strings of velvet that glew in flickering waves.
Velvet Underground, the name sparked amusedly in my head.
The light got brighter. I immediately froze.
Two dark figures stood before a wooden door. As I got closer, I realised it was a man and a woman, but before I could move nearer to discern their faces, the man’s gravelly voice echoed, “ID. Now.”
I took a step back. I have never been a club before. Are the guards always this brash?
I rummaged through a purse I’d carried. “Sorry. It’s right here. Give me a minute.”
My hand ransacked the purse like there was no tomorrow. It was pretty small so I had to feel my way around things but I was sure my ID was there.
A minute passed before I realised my hand could not feel anything that had a rectangular shape like, you know, an ID.
I internally screamed. The air prickled with impatience and I could practically feel the guards’ eyes piercing my body.
No, no no. I must have brought it, I whispered.
My movements got faster before I chuckled nervously. “Give me one minute.”
I turned my purse over and emptied its entire contents. A wave of cringe washed over me as I watched a bag of wet wipes, napkins, a bottle of caramel lipgloss and a bookmarker-what was that doing there?- tumble onto the floor.
No ID.
I tried for a smile but I must have looked like a crazy scientist, what with all the pent-up anxiety. “Sorry, I must have forgotten it.”
The guards were obviously not amused
The woman clicked her tongue. “Then no entry.”
“But I’m at Campus. I’m definitely older than eighteen and-“
“For all we know you might be a minor trying to enter adult premises,” The woman said, injecting sternness into her voice that bordered menacing. “You don’t look a day over 17. Not with that skin. Argue again and I’m going to have to call the police.”
I gulped before beginning to pick my things off the floor.
“Wait,” The man said.
I looked up. My face was now illuminated by a flashlight held by the man. Up close, I could definitely see him; pale skin, tall stature, dark moustache. A black mole rested on his chin. He was definitely in his late thirties. His black eyes roved over me, stopping briefly on my outfit before landing on my face. I felt a shiver run through my back.
“You can get in.”
“Frank…” The woman raised an eyebrow. She was shorter, definitely in her mid twenties, with auburn hair. Her nose was slightly crooked and when she spoke, her front upper teeth were slightly misaligned. “Are you crazy? Not this again.”
“I’ll personally vouch for him,” he said and they got into a heated argument as I gathered my things, my mind in a haze.
“No, he can’t get in.”
“Yes, he can.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
They had a wicked stare-off for about a minute. My heart palpitated and I wished I was anywhere but here.
Finally, the woman turned her face away, relenting. Her expression was a mixture of sour and annoyed. The man looked smug.
The man opened the door and gestured I can go inside. I grabbed my purse and hurriedly walked past them before I felt an arm around my waist.
The man bent down and whispered into my ear. “You owe me your number.” He winked and caressed my waist before letting me go.
I muttered a thanks and moved past, hoping that the disgust I was feeling wasn’t glaringly written on my face as I made a mental note to always carry my ID everywhere, even the toilet.
