Cramped sidewalks, freezing air, noisy traffic, and bleak building faces were forgotten as soon as people entered Heatwave. Large glass doors acted as a portal to a different world—a space that was more intimate and energetic than that of outside.
Instead of calling for taxis, voices called for bartenders. Instead of sluggish stoplights, neon blue, red, and purple hues from dangling pendant lamps reflected in glossy irises. Instead of harsh wind, thumping club music and excited cheers rattled partygoers all the way down to their bones.
The dual leveled establishment had a smaller bar on the second floor. That space was closed off via tinted glass walls; and it was reserved for patrons who spent extra money to get in. The room looked down on the open space of a more heavily populated first floor.
A long u-shaped bar sat across from the crowded dance floor. A lone DJ booth was seen in a corner beneath flashing lights and electronic props, being kept out of the way of tipsy patrons. Tables of varying sizes lined the walls, so anyone who wanted to could have a place to sit and eat, drink, or mingle.
People who were sitting down were laughing with each other. People who were on the dance floor were shouting, swaying, and taking pictures. Quite a few partygoers who were on the drunker side staggered in their spots.
Couples scattered throughout the room were seen sloppily making out with each other. Their mannerisms were so wild, it was like they were trying to forcefully consume any remaining traces of alcohol from swollen lips and slick tongues.
Alessandro made it a point to not stare at those individuals. Instead, he glanced around at the sea of dancing strangers from his perch.
He sat comfortably in one of multiple booths in an elevated seating area meant for VIP members. A half finished glass of watered down whiskey was clasped in his right hand. The left one was fiddling with a stray piece of string that hung from the outer fabric of his jeans.
A thin gray long sleeve kept his arms hidden, but a deep V-neck in the garment partially exposed his dragon tattoo. Instead of keeping up with his signature slicked back hairstyle, he opted for a more casual one with his bangs framing the side of his face.
It was an attempt to appear less formal since he wasn't in the workplace.
Neon lights made it a bit difficult to see. Even so, Alessandro's eyes scoured the dance floor in multiple spots. He was still playing the role of Mr. Bale to an extent, so he was watching over a few employees drunkenly socializing with other people. Acting as the vigilant guardian left him unable to really do anything else, but he didn't mind. He'd honestly rather sit around while nursing his drink if it meant he could keep a close eye on his workers.
It wasn't really done because he didn't trust them. His observant gaze flicked around the area just in case a random stranger, whom he didn't trust, showed up.
"Don't look so glum." Stephan took a seat beside his boss.
"I'm not." Alessandro chuckled. "Just staying alert. I'm having a good time, don't worry."
"Seemed like you could use some company though."
"You can relax, Steph. If you want to go dance or something, don't let me stop you."
"...This isn't really your scene, is it, Mr. Bale?
"We're not on the clock, so you can call me Alessandro," he answered. "And it isn't that. I just haven't gone out with a big group of people in awhile. Guess I'm just trying to get into the swing of things again."
Stephan nodded in understanding. He finished off a glass of what seemed to be a vodka cranberry, but bright lighting made the beverage look a different color.
YOU ARE READING
Ignite
Romance"I'm not some damn piece of charity work." "I know. I just want to give you a helping hand- as a friend." "We're not friends." "Well- then as an old flame." *** Alessandro and Lance used to date back in high school. It was a loving, fulfilling relat...
