13: operation rainbow

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A/N: well then... things are about to get interesting...and gay! 🥳🌈
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Zedd

I was only turning eighteen in a few weeks but I was confident that my imposingness would get me through the door of the club. Even so, I had a fake id in my pocket, but I didn't really want to use it unless I had to, because if you looked closely, you could tell that the guy in the photo wasn't me. He wasn't as good looking.

I parked my motorbike in a spot right next to the building and sauntered over to the door, trying to look confident. Music pulsed from the building, flashing neon lights and strobe lit up the pavement. I could hear the sounds of a mass of people, dancing and cheering inside. Rainbow neon lights made a banner across the doorway, and I knew I couldn't pretend I was straight in here.

"Yo momma know you're out here tonight?" the bouncer grinned, looking me up and down in a way which made my skin crawl.

"Nope," I drawled and waited for him to let me past.

"Enjoy," he smirked as he got out of my way.

I nodded in return and hurriedly pushed past into the nightclub. And holy shit it was intense. It was loud, it was bright, it was full - probably mostly of non-heterosexual people. My senses were overloading and I tried to quell my rising panic. Spotting the bar along the side of the room I made my way towards it, pushing past everyone. As I slid into a stool at the bar I clenched my fists to try to calm myself.

"Now what does a handsome boy like you want tonight?" a voice made me lift up my head.

I gaped at the bartender for a second, one: because he had called me handsome, and two: because his hair was bright green, he had studs in his ears, and was wearing a silky-looking deep purple button-up. I blinked, swallowed, and tried to formulate a response.

"Aw is it your first time here?" the bartender looked at me sympathetically, "Don't worry, you'll fit right in."

While the idea of fitting in initially sounded nice, I then freaked out when I realised he meant I looked gay. I peered over his shoulder in the mirror that lined the wall behind the bottles. My hair was pointed up into spikes in all directions, my eyelashes looked thicker than normal, and my eyes and cheekbones glittered under the pulsing red, purple and blue lights. Who was I kidding. Although I wasn't a homosexual, I also wasn't a heterosexual.

"Uh, thanks," I finally managed to reply to the bartender.

"Call me Oli," he winked, "Now what would you like to drink?"

"What's the strongest you have?" I asked as I looked over my shoulder at the writhing bodies and sheer gay vibe being emitted.

"Well we have hard liquor. You wanna do vodka shots? We have some verrry strong Smirnoff," Oli rolled his rs while wriggling his eyebrows.

"Fine, yeah," I shrugged and watched as he reached for a large clear bottle on one of the shelves.

"How many shots?" Oli grinned, reaching under the bench for some shot glasses.

"Uh I don't know? Five?" I replied, trying to remember how many drinks I could have without losing control of myself.

"Are you sure?" Oli raised an eyebrow, "That's a lot for hard liquor."

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