Instantly Hers | 18+

I

Standing in this fucking club was torture. I'm up for drinks, sure. But not a damn club, my ears were about to bleed from how loud the music was. My whole-body vibrating from the bass, as it shakes through the club.

The place was crowded as fuck. Bodies pushed together everywhere, there was a strong smell of sweat. Which alone made me want to gag.

How anyone finds this enjoyable is beyond me.

Standing with my best friend and coworker, Marcus, I was getting fed up. He said we were meeting some friends here. More so his friends. I'm friends with very few. The more you have, the more it seems they talk shit and back-stab you. I like to keep mine close and I'm good with my few friends.

Standing at this small ass table, waiting for who knows who and how many people, it was starting to get on my nerves.

Why say a time and not be there?

That shit pisses me off. A lot of things piss me off, it seems. Which is fucking true.

"Five more minutes, then I'm out of here," I turn to look at Marcus letting him know I'm serious. But the damn guy doesn't even hear me, and not because of the awful music that is blaring, but because he has some bitch latched to his arm and they look minutes away from fucking right here. Not surprised at all, this always happens. Not just to him either, but my scowl and 'don't fucking talk to me' vibe must be keeping the damn girls away.

Yes girls. Because real women wouldn't act this damn desperate.

And majority of them here were just that. It was easy as fuck to see it. The way they dress, with barely anything covering themselves, going from one guy to another. Flirting with them for a bit before they move onto their next target. Most do it for the free drinks. Shit, I don't know how many times Marc has paid for some bitch's drink cause she 'forgot her money'. Nice try, we all know you left your fucking wallet, so you could get the guys to buy your damn drinks. It was getting tiring honestly. But Marc bask in the attention. He is a total man whore.

All he has to do was look a girl in the eyes and they were putty, doing his bidding. With his short blond hair and blue eyes and sharp facial features, he was a catch to the ladies. They seemed to 'love' his boyish charms. At least that is what I hear. And it's hard not to hear them. It's like they have a volume button and they talk louder and louder every damn second.

Where I was the opposite to him. I had brown hair that was slightly longer on the top, I constantly ran my fingers through when I got irritated, like now. With dark grey eyes, and a scruff I have growing into a beard, the girls seemed to love the rugged look.

Smacking him on the back, maybe a little too hard, but who gives a fuck, I'm at my limit, I repeat myself to Marc. He turns his head scowling but nods anyways because he knows I would walk away this second.

He is always dragging me somewhere, especially somewhere I don't want to fucking go. No matter how many times I say no, he's like a bug that keeps on pestering you, until you eventually give in. If I hadn't known him since middle school and feel bad for his parents, I probably would have killed the guy many of times already.

Figuring I'll grab a drink instead of listening to this chicks fake laugh, I push myself through all the bodies, dodging the hands of girls everywhere, to the right side of the club where the bar is at. Asking the guy for a glass of whiskey, then changing it to a double, I feel a hand on my bicep causing me to flex. And not for that damn reason, but because someone is touching me.

Turning to my left with a scowl on my face, I bark out a 'what', to the girl on my left. This doesn't even seem to faze her, which of course it wouldnt, she's looking to sink her claws into someone.