My eyes grow wide as the guy I’m dancing with starts to grow and loom above me, his facial features fall into his face and when he speaks, strange animalistic sounds come out.
As I look around, the room looks totally fucked up, nothing is as it was before. The music sounds all distorted in my ears and dark shadowy creatures are appearing to me from in between the strobing lights. They’re roaring and clawing at me, trying to take me somewhere.
I start to push my way through the crowd. I don’t know which way is out, but I need to try and find it. I can’t breathe in here. There is anger being directed toward me and I’m scared. Something is after me. Hands grab at me and my body starts to shake as I hear screaming.
It’s coming from me.
The moment I realise it. Everything goes black.
***
When I come to, I’m on a couch and a face I’ve seen before is peering down at me. It’s Braden, the guy I met months ago while he was manning the coat check during the daytime when I went to stay with Ed and Matthew.
“There she is,” he says kindly. “You took a bit of a bad turn last night, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know what the hell happened last night,” I croak, as I try to sit up on the couch I’m lying on.
“Sweetheart, you're lucky it was me who found you and not someone else. You are too young and gorgeous to be getting your highs from strangers.”
“What are you even talking about?”
“I’ve seen you around the clubs lately. You’re always with someone, and on something, and you’re always carrying that big backpack of yours around. Have you got nowhere to go?”
I lay back and roll my eyes, sighing. “If I had somewhere to go, do you think I’d fuck half the guys I go home with?”
“No. No I don’t. Although, if I had your gift for attracting men, I wouldn’t be here looking after you. I’d be off with a man of my own.”
“Congratulations. You’re gay,” I state, my voice an emotional void.
“Officially I’m bi, but I do tend to lean a little closer to the gay side, which is why I’ve noticed you. You have gone home with some very fine men lately.”
I sit up properly and clutch at my head as pain throbs behind my eyes. “Thanks, I guess,” I wince.
“Here,” he says, handing me two Nurofen and a glass of water. “I’m curious - why do you keep going home with different drug fucked meat heads? Why don’t you choose one of those geeky looking guys who drool all over you and would do anything you asked just to be seen in your presence? You’re a fucking goddess.”
“Been there, done that. I can’t do relationships. I can’t stand the hurt look on their face when I screw it up. I go with the guys I do because they’re jerks. Hot guys are always jerks. They don’t give a fuck about me. They don’t ask questions. They just give me what I want, while taking what they want. It’s an easy trade.”
He takes the glass of water off me and places it on the coffee table in front of me, before he sits on the chair opposite. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a wad of cards and starts flipping through them.
“So which one of these are you? Linda? Erica? Peyton?... there’s more. What did you do? Rob every girl who looks remotely like to you take her ID?”
I reach forward to snatch them back, but he pulls the cards out of my reach. “Give them back.”
“Maybe I should. I can write these girls a nice letter and tell them that I found the girl who stole from them. I’m guessing that she’s this girl right here,” he says waiving my own ID at me. “Paige Larsen. A seventeen year old runaway from where? Jamisontown? Where’s that?”
“I’m not from Jamisontown. It’s just where I was living when I got my learners permit,” I tell him, reaching out again to try to take my ID.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he tuts, moving them away from me again.
“What do you want from me? I don’t have any money, and I’m too sober to sleep with you.”
“Well, I did have something else in mind for you. But after seeing your skills, I think you can help us both out.”
“What kind of skills are you talking about?”