The Vouyerist Club [Short Story] (Book 1/2)

Chapter 6

As I woke the sun was creeping into my room. I unplugged my phone and checked the time. Two o'clock! How the hell had I slept so long? There was a message from Niki and several from David.

Good morning! Hope you got your beauty sleep and you're looking forward to tonight. The show lasts an hour so it's up to the two of you with how you use the time :)  Greg's looking forward to meeting you!

P.s. don't forget to get tested and bring the results with you. There's a clinic on York Street - it's walk in. David

Brunch tomorrow at Mario's Cafe? N x

Crap! I had totally forgotten about the test. I fired up my laptop and found the clinic online. They closed at four.

I dashed about the room packing my bag and trying to get everything ready for the evening. I'd have to go straight from the clinic to the club. I showered, washed my hair and towel dried it. It always looked better when it dried naturally and my hair would get a wave and create curls at the ends. I'd tong it more at the club to make it look more uniformed. I took one last look at myself in the mirror and headed out the door.

The afternoon sun felt reassuring on my skin. Perhaps it was good I had slept in. Less time to think about tonight, less time to get nervous and less time to talk myself out of it.

I found the clinic easily and left my name with the receptionist. She gave me a clip board with some papers to fill out. It felt a little like David's forms instead this time is was asking about a plethora or sexually transmitted diseases most of which I had never heard of. When I'd finished filling them out I returned them to her and waited to hear my name called.
People came and went like a constant conveyor belt of young men and women with concern or relief etched on their faces. My stomached flipped at the thought of the results some of them must have received.

"Isabelle Maddox," the receptionists voice rang through the room. I raised my hand a little.  She summoned me over.
"Room three and there will be instructions on what you need to do."

I walked along a corridor painted in clinical cream with the walls covered in curling laminated signs. The vinyl floor had been disinfected and mopped so many times the design on it was beginning to fade.
Once inside the room I noticed a small tray on top of an examination bed with a urine sample pot and a swob kit. Stupidly I thought I'd see a doctor but having never been tested before I assumed it would be like visiting your physician.

...

I redressed myself and returned the samples to the receptionist.

"We'll text you your results within the hour."

I made my way to a cafe I knew a few blocks away. The usual morning buzz had lulled and several arm chairs near the window were free. I ordered a coffee and some granola and took up seat in a large worn leather armchair.

I'd always practised safe sex but I'd never thought to get myself tested. As the minutes ticked on I started to worry about the results. What if I had picked up some awful disease. I'd have to call David to say I had an STI!

My phone buzzed with a message from the clinic. All the tests came back negative. Tonight was still on!

I checked my phone it was nearly five. The club was a twenty minute walk. I'd pick up some dinner on the way that I could eat afterward and head straight there. The thought of eating anything beforehand only added to the nausea that was building in my stomach. Perhaps that granola hasn't been such a good idea.

As I walked I smiled to myself knowing what was packed in my bag. Maybe some of the strangers I passed would be in the audience tonight. The thought sent a wave of excitement across my body. Was I actually getting excited for tonight? What was wrong with me?

I thought about Greg, I'd never been with a big muscular guy. I tended to go for the more geeky slim tall kind. The chances were he would be much more experienced than me. I just hoped he would find me attractive and he wasn't too much older than me.

All I had to do was put on an act for an hour and get out of there. No one would ever know about it and I could get on with my life. I could actually start to live rather than exist. If I could have made the funds another way I would have. But desperation makes you do things you never thought you would do. Maybe just maybe I might even enjoy myself.