Clementine had become a wild child. Born in America but raised abroad, she now had little regard for the expectations of high society. But her reckless ways eventually catch up with her when she is kicked out of college in New York City and forced t...
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Clementine had to laugh.
"You know," Zico continued on, "most of the people in this room are. On something."
Clementine looked at him, and around the room, but tried to focus on the vicinity around her.
She guessed that it was about nearly one hour past midnight, and she wondered if he was on something, how long did it take to take effect.
"How long have you been here?" She asked him. They were now both facing the front of the stage. Clementine realized that this was less a club and more a performance. There was a stage set up near the front, and beyond the light show taking place, there were some sort of DJs and dancers.
"Not long," he answered.
Clementine could feel that something was slightly off. That he was at once unguarded and guarded and she didn't know what to do about it. She tried her best to adapt to the complete attack on all her sense. The lights, the sound, the visuals, and of course, him.
Clementine brought her hand to her chest as the music started to change.
"I can feel it here!" She exclaimed, and Zico looked at her and gave her a knowing smile.
"Me too," he said. "Hey, let's go up there," he motioned to the front of the room. "All our friends are there."
Clementine realized she was grinding her teeth, and at once annoyed that they were going to meet somebody else and relieved that he said 'our', she followed him to the front.
Even on the way across the room, Zico gave knowing glances to people and it felt like he knew half the people here. That they were 'his crowd'.
When they did get to their own group, Clementine nodded a few exchanges to some people that she recognized, but most of whom she didn't know.
The girl with the crazy hair though, the one that was in their cab in the very beginning, and who seems to have some sort of problem with Clementine and foreign attachment to Zico, was also there part of the group. Much to Clementine's dismay.
After Zico exchanged some words with them, she watched as he took something out of his pocket. And, turning towards them, some of them - crazy hair girl included - quickly took something out of the tiny baggy and swallowed it, passing around a water bottle.
It happened so quickly, that it reminded Clementine of a professional doing something. Like a ballerina nailing a triple pirouette. Quick and effective. Dashing and deadly.
"I'll be right back," Clementine touched Zico's arm and quickly turned around before she had a chance to hear if he said anything or not.
Clementine had a sudden urge to get away from the scene, for a moment. To try and collect herself. To process fully what just happened.
Its not like she did't have her hunches, but seeing it in the open like that, him not caring if anyone or if she saw it, was a stark realization.
Clementine went to find the bathroom, which she realized was one shared room for men and women, lit by red lights along the hallway. Trying to find a stall, she stumbled into one where two men were making out. She quickly stepped out and went into an empty one.
This may have been okay for New York City, but this was definitely avant grade for Rio, for Brazil.
She breathed a little, and in the dim light, pulled out a compact out of her small purse. She reapplied her red lipstick, finding that it usually calms her. And then stood there, letting the beat of the music pulsate through her, even in the next room..
She considered her options, and thought about leaving. But then, she realized, she has come this far. She was not ogling to get scared.
She went out of the stall and made her way back into the main room. She looked for the bar. She kemp standing idly in these kind of places was dangerous.
She found it in a balcony type area. Up the stairs, from where you could have a full view of the dance floor. She tried finding Zico and their friends from there, but gave up after seeing that it was simply a sea of people in the dark.
She went towards the bar, and asked for a Cuba libre.
"Uh-uh chiquita, somente água," the women at the bar told her. Water only.
What kind of bar does that? Clementine wondered, but then it came to her. The kind of bar that condones drug use, but not alcohol.
Clementine rummaged her purse for some cash, and paid for the overpriced bottle of water.
She took a sip, and decided to go back down to meet them.
