Nightlife ✓

08 | attainable

A STRANGE THING HAPPENED BECAUSE of my feelings for Quentin.

Ever since Fraser drunkenly catcalled me at Topaz, a small seed of hope had been planted. There were certainly other nightclubs in Halston, but not that many. Knowing Quentin went partying like any other senior made me hopeful that I could see him when I worked, and brighten my draining nights.

He made me look forward to working my shifts. And I arrived on time tonight.

This Tuesday, I was working on the dance floor. I was supposed to hype up the crowd by dancing crazily provocatively, but I actually seldom had to do it. I never had the time or space. More people were concerned with getting photos or chatting with me. Either way, I boosted Topaz's clientele and Zach was always a happy chappy.

Around eleven, Fraser, Noah, and Quen showed up. I saw them immediately because I had been looking out for him the whole night. Quen was absolutely hammered. I could tell even from our distance. His face was Asian-flushed to a brilliant shade of carmine, and his eyes never held themselves fully open. A flurry of glee raced through my gut.

This would be fun.

I weaved my way through the crowd, hugging and waving to all the customers who recognised me. When I was in front of the three boys, I flashed a bright, welcoming smile.

"Quen," I said, then waved to his friends. "And company."

He dropped his head to look down at me, still taller than me even when I wore stilettos. "Hey, Krista."

"Hi."

"Busy night?"

"Not too bad," I replied sunnily. "Most people have been deterred by the rain."

Quen suddenly leaned down. I stiffened, my heart giving an excited squeeze. His lips went straight to the shell of my ear.

He whispered, "Did you know I'm drunk?"

His warm breath on my skin sent such a strong tremor down my spine that I reached out to his arm to steady myself. My breath caught in my throat, but I leaned back and gave him my best smirk.

I would never let sober Quen forget this.

"Well, you must dance if you're drunk." I extended my hand to him.

He seemed to take it out of instinct, looking down at where our fingers interlocked with no real understanding of why I did it. I gave him a soft pull, letting him know that I meant for us to walk to the dancefloor. I pretended not to see Noah and Fraser's expressions, a mix of congratulations and jealousy, as we left them behind.

I threaded through the crowd like a fish in water, tugging Quen through the wake I left in my path. He would have bumped into countless bodies had he tried to make his way to the middle of the dance floor without me, in his intoxicated state. When I regarded him under the disco light, I realised that he had flushed a shade darker than he was when he entered. Along with his fidgeting, I garnered he was quite nervous about dancing.

I started moving my hips slowly, keeping my eyes on him. The song was an upbeat pop tune, but I fell into the steady rhythm underneath all the snares, synths, and singing. My legs took me around in smooth circles, and my arms wove their way above my head, into my hair, down my torso. Quen was stone-still, his eyes following my hands wherever they went, like he was still thinking about how they had held his.

Considering the extra height he had on me, I still didn't reach Quen's face—but I was much closer. If I exhaled, he would have felt it ghost across his lips—we were that close. I was putting on my best performance, and giving him my best kiss-me eyes. This was peak Krista Ming; I didn't get hotter or more seductive.