𝐌𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

Prologue.

It was loud. The music could be heard everywhere, the beats reverberating through the walls, as the club was packed with sweating gyrating bodies on the dance floor and drunk ones at the bar. The lights were in different colors casting the club in a dim yet colorful glow.

None of this bothered the young man, who was seated in the executive lounge, that overlooked the bar giving him a perfect view. Seated amid two scantily clad girls, with one caressing his arm and the other whispering sweet nonsense into his ears, he felt at home. It wasn't his first time in a club and he had gotten used to it.

One of the ladies laughed at her joke and he joined her. Not because he was amused, but because it was what will get her to be happy. After all, it didn't cost him anything.

"Excuse me," a man who looked to be in his mid-forties said, pushing his way through the gyrating bodies on the dance floor. With a vibrating phone in his hand, he had only one mission and it was to get the phone to the owner.

The young man instantly jolted up, upon seeing his driver approach him. Griffin being here, holding a phone, could only mean one thing and he was not ready to accept it.

On reaching him, Griffin held the phone and without any preamble said, "You need to take this, it is your-"

"I know," declared the young man, his face blank but alarms going off in his head. He stood up, inclined his face towards the girls, and announced, "I will be back soon ladies, don't miss me too much." And for good measure, he accompanied it with a wink.

They giggled then turned their attention back to their drinks. He followed Griffin out of the club, then took a deep breath of fresh air the moment he stepped into the cool night. He needed his voice to be clear and not slurred before he picked up the call.

With firm resolve, he collected the ringing phone and picked it up. "Hello mum," The thought that he was standing in front of the club struck him. Taking long strides, he moved towards his car. His mum best not found out.

"Dylan," his mother's cool voice said into the phone, "where are you and why weren't you with your phone?" A pause as if realizing, "You were in the club, weren't you?"

"Look, Mum, we have been over this. I-" he stuttered. How did she always have a knack for knowing where he was?

"Listen, Dylan, I'm tired of having this conversation with you. I called for a different reason."

"What reason?" he asked as he ran his hands through his silky blond hair. He was relieved she had dropped the club conversation.

"If you stop interrupting, I'll get to it," she announced curtly.

He sighed and waited for her to continue. This was definitely going to be worse than the club conversation. She had dropped hints the whole year. Knowing what she was going to say, he readied himself.

"Good. Christmas is in a month, Dylan. A month. And I'm not getting any older, sorry, I meant younger. I have told you countless times how I want to see you settled." She paused, he held his breath waiting. "This is the twenty-fifth of November Dylan. You have exactly a month to give me a girl. And don't you dare bring a random girl from any of the clubs you visit frequently, I want a homemaker."

Well, Dylan thought to himself, there goes my idea of bringing a club girl.

"I want to see you settled and happy and I need to see you committed is that clear?" she asked him in a voice that brooked no argument.

He nodded then realized she couldn't see him. "Yes mum, it is."

"Good." Then the line went dead.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, running his hand through his hair. He kicked at the floor, sending tiny loose stones scattering across the gravelled parking lot. Where was he to get the perfect girl according to his mother in a month? That didn't even make sense. The fact he couldn't even argue was more infuriating.