The First

I'm driving along, trying to find a motel or anything really, card board box would do at this point, since I have nothing left to lose, when I come across a thriving club. I'm sure the people outside have been waiting forever just to get past those stupid faux velvet ropes.

My mind draws me back to a time, one of the many times Jason and I were broken up, that I snuck into a club very similar to this. I was so pissed about our breakup, and was trying to find an outlet for my anger, drinking seemed like a good choice at the time. I was underage, of course, but that didn't seem to matter to the man behind the bar, though he didn't card me to see what age I was anyway. It was only when some slummy guy on the dance floor tried to grope me, while we were dancing, that my mind snapped me back to reality and I went running back to Jason's house. My breath was laced with the vodka I had been drinking, as I pleaded with him to forgive me for being so stupid. I couldn't remember why we had broken up, I was drunk. To this day, I still don't know. It was always because of me, I know that.

Before I have time to comprehend what I'm doing, I'm turning the car around, driving back to the club I just passed. I park my car on the side of the street and walk up to the bouncer. I don't know what I think I'm doing, there is no way that he's going to let me in, especially not before he lets in any of these crazy people that have been waiting in line for who knows how long.

"What are you doing? You have to go to the back of the line." Some girl says, as I approach the front of the line and the bouncer. "You can't let her in, we've been waiting here for like ever!" She yells to the bouncer, as I step in front of him.

He ignores her, and focuses on me. "Are you here with someone?" He asks, looking me up and down. I'm sure he's wondering what the fuck I'm doing showing up to a club in my jeans and sweater. I don't look like a belong here, with all the scantily clad girls in line to get in.

I'm struggling to find the words to answer, when a deep voice sounds from behind me. "She's here with me." He says, throwing a tattooed arm around my shoulder, as he comes to a stop beside me. I look up at this guy, I have to, he's tall. He's lean and muscular, his dark hair tousled up on top of his head. What a sight to see. I would be lying if I said he wasn't attractive. I'm sure with his looks he's got girls fawning over him all the time. He catches me taking him in, and smirks at me. Yeah, he obviously knows he's attractive, too.

"Oh. Alright." The bouncer says, not looking completely convinced, but he unclasps the velvet rope to let us through.

I'm lead through the doors by the sexy man with all the tattoos, into the club, immediately overwhelmed by how loud the music is, and how many people they've managed to fit into this building. They have to be over their fire code.

"Have you been here before?" He asks, as he leads me through the crowd, to the bar.
"No." I answer, truthfully. I should probably say bye to him now and run the other way. I don't know what I'm doing here, I don't know why I came to this place. I don't know why I let some stranger pretend I was his girlfiend, arm candy, whatever to get into this place. Part of me knows, though, that I'm slipping back into my bad habits.


"My name's Brian." The tattooed stranger says, offering his hand to me.

"Allison." I say, shaking his hand. This feels so formal for someone who doesn't appear to be a gentleman. I shake my head, I don't know this guy, nor have any reason to judge him.

"Something wrong?" He asks, noticing me shaking my head.

"No, sorry. I was just lost in my thoughts. Have you been here before?" I repeat his earlier question.

"Yeah, my friends and I come here often. It's a pretty popular hangout spot for us, when we aren't out of town traveling."

"I take it you travel often?" I ask, and he smiles.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." After a few beats of silence, he asks, "Would you like a drink?"

"I would." I smile genuinely at him. A drink sounds great right now.

He calls the bartender over and orders two drinks. "I hope you're okay with Jack and Coke." He says, after the bartender walks away.

The thought of whiskey makes my stomach stir. Terrible memories are threatening to rush back up, but I do my best to shove them down in the depths. I am normally not a whiskey kind of girl, the mere thought of the liquid sends chills down my spine, but something about this striking man makes me willing to give it a shot tonight.

"That's fine." I say, hoping my smile doesn't look as fake as it truly is. Something about this man intoxicates me. I'm not drunk, but he makes me feel like I am, makes me feel safe. How? I ask myself. I only just met this guy, and already my heart is acting like it's lost its rhythm. My eyes trace the tattoos up, until I'm practically staring at his face, focusing on his chiseled jawbones. I'm suprised he hasn't caught me checking him out yet, but I realize now his focus is on the man to the other side of him.

"Oh shut up, man. It's not like that. She needed help getting in the club, and I happened to be on my way in." He lightly punches the mans shoulder. I look at the man, only to catch him looking back at me. I quickly look away.

I feel a light tap on my shoulder, and I turn around in the barstool. "Hi, my name is Johnny." The man says, offering a hand to me.

"Good friend of mine." Brian says, taking a drink of his Jack and Coke. As I look back and forth from Johnny to Brian, something hits me. Why do they look so familiar? I can't place it, but I know them from somewhere. "Where are the other idiots?" Brian asks Johnny.

"Not sure. They said they'd be here, but didn't say when."

"Well damn, it's already 11:30."

"Fuck, that's still early. Zach probably just rolled out of bed." Johnny says, and Brian laughs.

"True." Brian turns to me. "So Allison, what are your plans for tonight?"

I hadn't really thought too much into having plans for tonight. "Don't know." I say simply, taking a long swig of my drink. The whiskey burns on the way down and the taste on my tongue does not suit me. One memory in particular is working it's way back up, like bile in my throat. Working it's way through the doors, doors that I've shut so tightly and bound with locks upon locks to trap these torturous memories inside forever.

I swallow and slam my drink down the on the bar, as I slam the memory back in its trap, locking the door, once it is safely inside. I'm not going to think about that tonight. I don't want to think tonight.

"Do you want to dance?" I ask Brian, as he's ordering me another drink, to replace the empty glass on the bar. I don't give him a chance to answer, as I grab his hand and lead him to the dance floor.

Notes

Okay, so I had to do a little rearranging with the first few chapters I had written, so stick with me here. I know I said previously I would post the first few chapters, but this is what I've got so far, as I'm now re-writing/rearranging the next couple of chapters. Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoy!

- J