𝙋𝙧𝙚𝙮, John Shelby

- 24

- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR -

- IN WHICH THEY REEK HAVOC

. . .

JOHN'S ARM RESTED heavily on her shoulder as they walked up the entrance to the Eden Club, the girl waiting patiently for Tommy to bargain their way into the rather important, rather strict building that was guarded by much bulkier men than their own.

"Much obliged." Arthur muttered as they passed through the doors, the two men pocketing the money that had been distributed between them.

And as they begun up the corridor, various couples getting a little too comfortable, jazz music danced around their ears, the noise growing louder as they got closer to the hall. Rory's eyes darted across the different forms snorting various powders up their noses, her body moving closer to John's as they passed a trio of men just before brushing through the doorway that had been adorned with velvet curtains.

"It's a fucking freak show." The brother spoke quietly, watching as her gaze followed the patterned walls and small chandeliers rested in front.

Lorelai remained oblivious, fingers reaching out to run across the gold vases holding onto yellow and white flowers."Pretty." However her adoring eyes were diverted as a close couple on one of the cream coloured sofas grew a little too close for the current public state, stare moving to her shoes for a few seconds.

It was only as she wandered up the stairs did her gaze travel upwards to watch hundreds of men and women dressed in exuberant outfits dance eccentrically to the music that had doubled in sound the closer they grew to the stage.

"What the fuck is that racket?" Arthur called above the rhythm, following Tommy down a shorter set of steps onto a dining area which was filled with vibrant overpriced drinks that they'd never even heard of.

"This is what they call music these days, brother." Tommy paused for a second before making a beeline for the centre of the room, Rory making a note of the expensive lamps situated on each individual table.

"Music?"

"It's different, no?" Rory's eyes followed a woman who was sniffing up a line of powder on her wrist, the girl being forced to look away as John and Tommy turned sharply. Then her attention was being taken up by the band on a stage, the various instruments playing in such a way that she couldn't blame others for dancing.

They wandered over to a partially empty table, Rory slipping into one of the few empty seats whilst Tommy came up behind a couple who'd taken it upon themselves to get much more intimate than they should've. "Oi, oi!" He shouted, eyeing the man. "Put it away."

"Fuck off!" John added, bending down to their level, watching as they instantly drew back their chairs and rushed to find a new place to sit. "Look at this spot, eh." He grinned, sitting down beside Rory. "It's alright, isn't it?"

"Irish whiskey." Tommy called to a near by waiter. "Bottle." The man speeding up his walk after Arthur had said a few words of encouragement.

"Fucking hell, I recognise a few of these lads." John commented, head moving in almost every direction looking at the various couples around the room.

Rory nodded in agreement, brows furrowing together as her eyes locked onto one of the men near by. "So do I actually..." She felt her spine ripple, a sudden air of a tense cold hitting her form between the thick musty layer that sat on the walls of the club, her eyes flitting back to the table as the man returned the eye contact.