Lauren
Peer Pressure
Photo: www.inlist.com
The club
was large and dark. Music pulsated in rhythmic beats that had dancers
heightened to the maximum level of lust. This place made the sweet and innocent shed their
morals for a few hours of unadulterated ecstasy as colorful lights and lasers poked holes
through the black noise. Bodies, sweaty with the friction of movement, pressed
hard against other bodies as fingers groped at exposed flesh and tight clothing.
As the disc jockey held up an index finger above his turntables, the crowd responded
with a cascading climax of disappointing moans. This was the usual preface regarding the last
song of Saturday night. A stream of the insatiable slowly made their way to the
bar in hopes of cashing out under budget. A majority of the large crowd headed
directly for the exit without saying a word. Others ignored the DJ’s gesture
and continued to grind against their dance partners. Lauren, however, made her
way to the bathroom.
Lauren was a timid, but outgoing person. That is to say that,
while she would not spark the flame, Lauren would certainly coax it into a
brushfire. She loved parties and going out, even though she seldom drank or
did illicit drugs. She loved French fashion and films without speaking the language. Tonight
she was wearing a black French Connection Hail Helen dress with a small black
and gold Gucci belt. Black and gold Gucci Gladiator sandals adorned her pedicure
feet; toenails a cherry red to complement her manicure. She pushed
open the bathroom door to uncover a freakish sideshow of drunken women. A young
woman with long black hair stumbled out of a stall in a jerking motion. Her red
skintight dress hugged her forcefully, causing her knees to rub against one
another. Her high-heeled shoes matched her dress; each heel a sharp red
fang. The woman was probably quite elegant when sober, but now she resembled a
puppet on string. Lauren watched the woman in red grip a sink and double over.
The woman lurched as steady churns of brown vomit erupted from her pretty
mouth. This sent most of the women running out of the bathroom. Purses stuffed
with makeup and perfumes were snatched up and a line of women darted past
Lauren.
Only Lauren and the woman in red remained. During
the stampede, the woman must have blacked out; she was on the dirty tile floor,
eyes closed, similar to a murder victim. Lauren had to step over the body to
reach the adjacent sink. A different person would have attempted to pick up the
drunk, or at least establish consciousness. Lauren was not that person. She
wanted the woman to be okay, she really did, but she just wasn't that person. “Sorry,”
Lauren whispered as she stepped over the red woman’s skinny body. Lauren stood
next to a clean sink and looked into the mirror.
Her pale white skin was glowing under the dimly lit
florescent lights. Short, curly black hair was styled wavy and a thin gold
ribbon accented her head. Her light blue eyes looked tired as they gazed back
at themselves. “How did Kat convince me to come out tonight?” Lauren pondered
her own question as she reapplied lip-gloss to her pink lips. It usually took
quite the reward to convince her to venture out on a weekday, especially a
Monday. Her work days start early and she loves her beauty sleep. Kat, however,
knew the formula that worked on her best friend. He’s cute and smart, Lauren remembered what Kat had texted to her
before she agreed to come out to the most expensive nightclub in the city. So
far, Kat’s promise of Prince Charming was a no-show.
Before she could properly store her lip-gloss within her
small leather handbag, Kat rushed through the door. Her hair was a blonde puff,
a phenomenon that always happened when she danced. Sweat plus sporadic movement
caused Kat’s hair to break free of the products that she applied to keep her
hair straight. “He’s out there, L! You have to go meet him.”
“I was just out there,” Lauren said. She was fed up with
tonight’s shenanigans and incredibly sleepy. The smell of vomit had
soured her dancing spirit. “I’m cabbing it home, Kat. I’ll see you tomorrow
night.”
“That’s cool, but you have to see him before you leave.” Kat
was obviously drunk. Whenever she drank, she became very interested in what
other people were doing with their lives, especially in the sex department. To this day, Lauren regretted telling her that she had gone two years without sex. Kat's
size twelve, Tbags Los Angeles Ruffle Bodice Print Maxi Dress was damp and
tight, pushing her breasts through the top like a corset. Kat grabbed Lauren by
the arm and tugged her out of the bathroom.
The only guy that stood out to Lauren was wearing a white
t-shirt and jeans. He was intoxicated to the point of stupidity. He pushed
through the exiting crowd like a bear on its hind legs. His large upper
body was stumbling through the exiting people effortlessly. He was also yelling, “Kat!
Ka-therine! Katherine!” Gripping Lauren's arm too hard, Kat ran towards his voice.
“Clark, holy shit! You almost missed her,” Kat screamed as
she jumped into the big guy’s wet arms. Clark was drenched from the rain that had started to fall on that cloudy Tuesday morning. It was a heavenly sign that transformed late night into early morning.
Clark stared down at Lauren as he embraced Kat. “She’s your friend, Kat? She is gorgeous.”
Lauren looked up at him. She thought that he looked decent, but she was in no
mood to get to know him. He was too drunk. “What’s your name, baby?” Clark
sounded dumber than he looked. Lauren did not respond. Instead, she looked to
see where Kat had gone. To her right, she saw Kat making out with an overweight
man wearing an Ed Hardy shirt, tight blue jeans, and a black Chicago Bulls
fitted cap. The sight made Lauren sick. I
seriously hope she doesn’t catch anything. Lauren thought to herself as she
marched through the club door. As she walked out, Clark grabbed himself a handful
of her ass.
- Terry
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