{1980} My friends and I giggle loudly as we approach the neon doors to Club 42, the biggest disco-house in all of LA. Our thin heels clink against the ground, jewellery swishing as we pull our minidresses down, climbing the stairs feeling the excitement grow with every step we take, the music thumping and lights flashing, people cheering and drinks clinking. It looks like good fun. All 8 of us walk in a straight line into the club, barging through elbows and dancing hips. We separate and make our own path individually, briefly fare welling each-other and wishing luck. Whatever that means. I laugh loudly as a guy grabs my arm and pulls me flush to him. I feel the music rattle my bones and thump my heart, filling my soul with the rhythm in every crevice. I get a brief look at his face, appearing to be a skinny white boy with thick curls draping over his forehead. His face is young and innocent, just a boy out for a good time. I throw my head back and laugh, as I'm here with the same intentions. He holds my hips firmly as I wrap my hands around his neck, rocking and swaying to the beat of Rock With You by Michael Jackson. His sensual, velvety voice fills my ears, beautifully accomplished with melodic, smooth horns and gentle keys and drums. We both laugh and smile as the song comes to a finish, the drums fading out and lights dulling to prepare to slide into the next record. I gently caress his arm, smiling sweetly. "Thanks for the dance boo, I'll be back later if you want me." My flirtatious self yells over the crowd, winking mischievously. He smiles widely, toothy grin glowing in the fluorescent lights from above. He turns and disappears into the thick group of dancing bodies. I barge my way through the crowd once more, eyes fixed on the bathroom sign glowing green in the corner. I open the heavy door to the females and go to the mirrors. The harsh white lights beam down, making my eyes slightly since as they adjust. I stand in front of the mirror checking myself out, correcting my hair and makeup. My bandeau boob tube hugs my bust tightly, accentuating my curves with some black high waisted shorts which tease my bottom scandalously. My thick, bouncy curls are firmly held in place with hairspray. My makeup is light and dewy, soft but sexy. My caramel, smooth skin glows healthy and bright, clear and matte. Not bad, Eloise. That's my name by the way, Eloise Simmons. Most people call me Ellie.
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I smile proudly as I walk out of the bathroom, returning to the loud and crazy atmosphere. Suddenly, I feel myself being drenched in freezing liquid as I'm shoved harshly against the wall behind me. I squeal abruptly in shock, as a tall, strongly built and fierce looking black man approaches me, gritting his teeth in a devious and evil smile. My heart pounds as he leans over me against the wall, reeking of alcohol and marijuana as he breathes into my neck, hot and damp. I whimper uncomfortably, scared to death, lips quivering. I pray helplessly that someone is watching and will help in getting this creep, now softly kissing my neck, off of me. I squeeze my eyes shut and hope, small and vulnerable under this monster of a man. "Mmm baby...you're coming home with me tonight..." He whispers in a deep, gravelly tone. I press against the wall further, trying to get as far away from him as possible. His large hand gropes at my waist, feeling my body unwelcomed and pervertedly. I feel a scream building up in my throat, on the verge of being released, until I hear a sharp yell of a soft but aggressive voice. "No she isn't!" I widen my eyes as the large man is pulled off of me firmly and pushed back into the crowd, stumbling and shocked. I feel someone grip my wrist and drag me quickly away from the situation. We both run quickly out the front doors, not dating to look back, although he is probably too drunk and high to understand what just happened anyway. I attempt to see my saviour, but only see a tall, somewhat skinny yet well-built black guy with bouncy, short curls, wearing a brown Highschool rugby jacket, blue jeans and brown heeled boots. His body is slim and athletic, skin smooth and dark under the street lights. We continue to run to the und of the block as cars and pedestrians rustle in the street. Suddenly, he turns to me, and I see his face as we both catch our breaths, staring at eachother.
