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Just Apologise

A l e s s i a s p o v:
Once Arabella was done sweet talking the bouncer we made our way into the club, ignoring all the whines and groans from the people waiting to be let in. We have no clue what she actually says, she offers to do it every time we decide to go out. Me and Arya have given up questioning her, we just let her do her thing and go along with it.

Witchcraft?

I could already feel the vibrations from outside so I wasn't surprised when I stepped into the club, it felt like I was walking on a vibrator.

I grabbed Arabella's hand, Arya grabbed mine and we made are way through the crowd towards the bar, I could tell Arya wasn't completed comfortable because she kept on squeezing my hand every time someone would brush past us.

"Can we have six shots please," Arabella asked, I looked around, trying to find what I was looking for. There it was. From my experience in most clubs there's a office, usually the club owner, manager, boss whatever you want to call it has one. Most the time they prefer it positioned so they can look down on the club, making sure nothing goes wrong.

Or so the could be perverts.

In the top right corner of this club, only noticeable if you stare at it for a while there's a sheet of glass. I'm guessing the person on the other side of the glass can see through it, but it's blacked out on the this side.

That's where Adrian is.

Well I'm hoping that's where he is, he might not even be here.

The bartender places our drinks down in front of us, two each, and not so discreetly slides Ella a piece of paper. "Are you Italian?"

He smiled and nodded, his fluffy hair moving with him. Arabella turns her body to us once he starts attending to other customers, she flutters her eyelashes looking at nothing in particular, slightly nodding her head like she's imagining something.

"Please don't tell me you're imagining his- Arya starts off,

"Italian dick, yes why wouldn't I be?" Ella finishes laughing at Aryas face of disgust.

We tap the bottom of the glass against the table, then down the shots, back to back. I shake my head to the burning sensation and blink a few times to stop myself from tearing up.

"What the fuck was that?" Arya questioned, fanning her throat with her tongue sticking out.

If you can't tell we don't drink alcohol often.

A white man waddled his way towards us, he had a uneven beard, mostly grey, and a beer belly. There was stains on his grey t-shirt, and his pants were very worn out.

"That, sweetie, was vodka mixed with whiskey." He croaked, i didn't hide my disgust when I saw his rotting teeth or when the strong smell of cigarettes hit me. I put my hand over my nose, with my eyebrows scrunched up.

A/N: I don't drink alcohol so I don't know if that's even a known combination but we move 👍🏾.

"Another round of them pet." He shouted, a little too aggressively over the music, tapping his dirty nails on the counter.

So he has the money to get into this part of the club, and order over priced drinks but he can't change his shirt or buy new jeans?

"His priorities don't add up." I muttered to myself. He turned back to us, singing the lyrics to the song to himself, and gave us a smug look. Exposing his crooked teeth once again.

Arabella screamed and dragged us to crowd of people dancing. Arya was in the middle of me and Ella, something we always did at clubs. My back was against Aryas front, and Arya was against Arabella. We danced to the music, singing our hearts out to Earned it by the weeknd.

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