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The Marigold flower represents a passion, a creativity, but underneath the beauty of such an alluring flower, it is difficult to ignore the cruelty, the jealousy and the grief.
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TW - This chapter mentions drug abuse, and talks about the extremities of grief.
PLEASE DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THESE TOPICS ARE TRIGGERING FOR YOU, PUT YOURSELVES FIRST. I LOVE YOU <3
It gets a bit emotional at the end, well I cried writing it lol so I think it's emotional.
We walk into the club and I am met with the similar smell that I am far too fond of.
Me and Louis are never sure what the places Martin signs us up to attend are like, most of the time we've never even been ourselves before. Today wasn't a formal PR appearance specifically for the club, but Martin had been paid to make sure it looked like we were attending the club just because we wanted to. Another form of promo.
Once we arrive at the club and make it through the doors, we are escorted by our security team to a booth in the back corner of the club, somewhere that has clearly been reserved for us.
From what I can see this isn't a classic London nightclub, this is more like a speakeasy, but modernised.
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Louis notices the different exterior and huffs to himself, coming to a realisation about something.
"Fucks sake, I told Martin to keep us out of this shit again." He mutters to himself; I don't think that was meant for me to hear.
We slide into the booth and Lou orders our usual drinks. After a while the lights begin to fade down and I notice some doors to a new area start to open slowly.
My attention is drawn to the dancefloor that has now appeared and is crowded with people cramped together and dancing under the tinted warm, orange lights.
It seems like Martin has tabled us in the VIP section, but as it is now 1am the door would open to the normal part of the club and the everyone would combine.
"Excuse me?" Louis quickly asked the bartender who was placing our drinks on the table.
"What's the name of this place?" He adds.
"Burnt Orange" the bartender nods politely, keeping his etiquette I'm sure is drilled into him.
I look at Louis and roll my eyes.
The bartender walks away, and I move closer to Louis, gesturing up to my phone to take a selfie of the two of us.
We wiggle into each other and he poses by holding a kiss to my cheek. I smile and take the picture and add a filter. I post it to my story with the location tag whilst taking a sip of my Cosmo.
I see Louis pulling a joint out of his pocket and smirk at him.
"You bring me one?" knowing full well he wouldn't smoke without me.
