“I thought we’d shake things up a little.”
Megan watched her boyfriend produce the unassuming white letter-length envelope and lay it on the black laminate bar, nudging it her way. She watched his face for a telltale sign but his only response was to grin back at her and wink.
“What is this?” she asked coyly, a slow smile spreading across her face.
It had been five years to the date since they’d first met and while she’d been hoping for a small blue box from Tiffany’s with the clear-cut solitaire that she’d been eyeing for months, this clearly wasn’t it. And yet something in her stirred with excitement as her imagination took flight to other possibilities. Plane tickets, that was her immediate guess, and she thought of sun-drenched beaches or a romantic getaway to some broody European city where they’d sip wine on a warm balmy night and listen to Spanish guitar.
“I think you need to open the envelope,” he said, obviously as eager as she was.
Megan’s hands worked quickly, feeling giddy from the martinis they’d been enjoying and she prepared an obligatory ‘oh, you shouldn’t have’ expression. She felt very certain that on this precipitous occasion, he’d probably splurged on something grand.
When the tickets were finally in her hand, she read them and blinked twice, looking up at him with baffled eyes. She turned them over, seeking some inclination that this was a ruse designed to confuse her and prepare her for an even bigger surprise. But there was nothing else. Nothing but those two unassuming tickets to the last place on earth she wanted to be that night.
“Well?” he laughed. “Surprised?”
“Uhm, yeah, I guess you could say that,” Megan said finally. She looked up at him and frowned. “Tickets to a rave, Shane? Really? ”
She was inwardly aghast at how genuinely shocked he appeared to be by her lack of enthusiasm. Didn’t he know her at all by now?
“This is the exact party where we first met, five years ago tonight, Meg,” he said, trying to encourage some excitement. When she just stared back at him flatly, obviously not amused, he leaned against the bar, shaking his head. “You’re not very sentimental, I guess. I thought you’d be excited to get out and have some fun for a change.”
She rolled her eyes. “For a change? I thought we were having fun.”
Shane shrugged and looked down the long bar that they were standing at in the upscale boutique lounge, watching other similarly bored, disinterested couples trying to make crippling small talk with overpriced martinis in hand. The watered down ambient music seemed like a perfect backdrop to the murmur of nondescript conversations surrounding them. He felt the weight of it, as he usually did on their Saturday nights. Everything was so predictable. It was like watching a familiar reel playing over and over again, soothing after a long week of hectic work schedules and yet never offering any challenge or unexpected momentum. His heavy sigh was meant to convey more than the words he spoke.
“Don’t you ever get tired of being like this?”
Megan became unsettled by his tone, looking around them for a clue as how to respond. All she saw were swanky upscale urban couples like themselves and a mix of singles having drinks and enjoying the chill vibe of one of her favorite bars. Her gaze drifted toward the party tickets sitting between them and she remembered back to the night they’d first met at the electronic dance music festival. It was an annual industry event every labour day weekend that showcased an impressive line up of international DJs at a sprawling club complex in the city.
She’d barely been 22 years old back then, in low slung jeans with a tiny scrap of green silk tied like a scarf over her perky breasts, glow-sticks in hand on a riser, her long blonde hair clinging to her sticky sweaty skin. There, she’d danced to the deep techno house music beats of Benny Benassi that seemed to rise like a low pounding from her core and up and out through every limb. She’d felt alive; alive with the promise of youth; alive with the inherent freedom of the moment; and alive with the possibilities the night had yet to reveal. And there he’d been through the thick crowd of partygoers, staring up at her lithesome tight body, giving her a private audience of complete and utter focus and infatuation. And lust. There’d been that too.
Later, they’d merged into one hot coil of intensity on the dance floor. His hands had been everywhere, his mouth tasting her sweaty skin, the touch of his teasing fingers on her hips, sliding along the curve of her back and down into the low waistband of her jeans. They’d gone back to his loft and fucked for days on end, in his bed, on the floor, and under the hot spray of his shower, awakening everything vital and urgent within them that had made them feel like pure sexual beings. They’d bonded during those days of take-out delivery, sketched out and lounging, recovering from that night and getting to know each other in all the important intimate ways, both physically and emotionally. The connection had been undeniable.
And now, five years later, Megan felt distinctly uncomfortable. That same sweaty party of more than 10,000 strangers felt an old worn memory from a place they’d left deep in the past. They were a couple now and while they were both barely into their late twenties, she felt like her mind had moved onto other more important things.
They’d grown up after all, hadn’t they?
She watched Shane’s eyes as he glanced back at her, and saw a smear of defeat. He was disappointed in her. In them. The silence between them began to feel stagnant, like water that was no longer running freely between them. While a sense of predictability and boredom had slowly been creeping into their relationship, Megan felt it very tangibly for the first time that night. He wanted this, she realized, to return to the place of their beginning. She felt her resolve starting to weaken despite everything within her that wanted to fight against what those tickets represented.
“Well,” she said finally, sensing the obvious standoff between them. “Since you already got the tickets, I guess we can check it out for a bit.”
He smiled at her. “Are you sure?”
She shrugged. “Why not,” she said amiably. “Maybe things have gotten a little stale. We could probably use a little adventure.”
Earlier that night, Shane had surprised her with a new outfit to wear as part of their anniversary dinner plans and she realized now there had been ulterior motives to his choice. She’d originally been uncertain about the shiny white miniskirt and strappy tank top. It was far too revealing and bordering on slutty on its own, but there had been an expensive luxe knit semi-sheer sweater in the gift box as well and paired with her gladiator stilettos she’d looked upscale and chic at the lounge bar. Now it was obvious that they’d be checking her sweater and his blazer at the door, merging back into the same people that used to go out practically every weekend to trendy clubs and after hours parties, dancing until dawn with remnants of party-candy melting on their tongues.
Megan’s reluctance was palpable and yet she found herself shivering with anticipation as their taxi neared the club complex just after 1am. Even from the confines of the vehicle, she could hear the distant yet audible pounding of music as she saw the lights and activity of the scantily dressed crowd come into view. It was a kaleidoscope of images, long hair and glimpses of bare legs on the girls and fitted t-shirts over tanned muscle on the larger packs of guys. They flooded the street in front of the club entrance, winding a lineup to get in that seemed to go on for miles.
“Ugh, I don’t miss this at all,” she said, already feeling annoyed at the prospect of having to wait with the rest of the masses.
“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got it all set up. We’re going VIP all the way tonight.”
“Oh yeah? I didn’t know you kept in contact with those types still.”
He laughed and grabbed her hand. “Maybe I like the idea of still being able to surprise you,” he teased, leading her past the impatient people waiting in line.
Shane confidently strode towards the shorter VIP line at the side entrance door. The hulking bouncer nodded at him, clearly familiar with the arrangement and waved them forward. Megan paused for a moment as Shane spoke to him and she took one last look toward the city, an indigo silhouette against the backdrop of night sky and water. The past was ready to absorb them again, and in moments, the mammoth entertainment club complex had pulled them into an abyss of darkness where anything seemed possible.
As Shane handed over tickets and checked their things, Megan started to feel the first stirrings of excitement as her eyes strained to adjust to the lack of light. The music flooded her ears and she could feel the vibrations through her feet, reverberating through her legs and up into her core, settling in rhythm with her heart rate. She clung to Shane’s hand as they merged into the already sticky mass of people on the dance floor, shoulder-to-shoulder, all turned toward the DJ booth where Avicii was spinning his remix of Armin van Buuren’s Drowning.
Strobe lights lit the seemingly endless expanse of space as thousands of hands pushed through the colored laser beams. Huge blasts of cool air shot out from the upper level like a dragon breathing. The building itself seemed alive, inviting those it had swallowed into its primal lair to play. Megan felt the natural humidity of the club mixed with the body heat of the crowd immediately and her tank top quickly clung to her like a second skin, the back of her neck sticky and warm in just minutes. She swore several times as people bumped into her, almost knocking her off balance if she hadn’t been holding tight to his hand. Shane maneuvered them through the crowd toward the stairwell with a sense of purpose and Megan used him as a shield, happily submitting to his choice of direction and staying close behind him.
It was that familiar funhouse environment that used to feel like a second home to her and as they began their ascent up to The Blue Room, Megan started to relax and take in the scene, feeling an unexpected rush of nostalgia. The upper VIP lounge was considerably darker and less crowded than the main floor, lit mainly by LED lights in shades of blue that gave it an otherworldly kind of vibe. Megan had only been in there once before when she’d come to the club with a bartender friend that had gotten them VIP access to the lounge. Now she waited behind Shane’s tall form, pressing up against his back, feeling his skin hot and damp beneath his shirt.
“Almost there, baby,” he promised her, leaning in and leaving a playful kiss on her neck.
She saw a tall well-built guy with short, spiky dark hair and a bit of stubble on his smooth tanned skin moving towards them. He wore dark jeans and fitted black shirt with tattoo skull designs across the back. He was all hard lean muscle and he cut an imposing figure on the floor. In the darkness she could see that his eyes were bright green and they contrasted with his otherwise more exotic features, giving him a slightly devilish appearance that was unsettling. When he saw Shane, however, his face broke into an easy grin.
“Hey Bro!”
They patted each other on the back and Shane leaned in to talk to him in a lowered voice. Megan waited patiently beside him, unable to hear the conversation, but she noticed those green eyes on her, appraising her long bare legs and glimpse of taut belly as her skirt began to ride lower on her hips because of the humidity in the air. God, he was bad news, she decided immediately, although she did feel a little thrill at the way his eyes raked over her. Clearly Shane couldn’t see his predatory stare from the way the two men were positioned and she just looked away, a smile on her lips. With the distinct air of prospective hookups and sex, these parties had never been a particularly couples-friendly environment. How ironic that they were there again, five years later, to test the waters of temptation.
Finally Shane stood back and drew her into the conversation. “Hey, this is Zach,” he shouted over the music. “He’s a club promoter. He’s going to hook us up for the night!”
Zach smiled at her and she caught an air of flirtatious energy from him, but it seemed imbued in his personality more than intentional. It was probably what made him a successful events promoter, she decided. He had a certain virile charm that seemed like a drug on it’s own, magnetic and intriguing, even to someone like Megan who had always been a deeply committed and respectful girlfriend.
Zach unclipped the metal link chain at the entrance to the room and they slipped inside before he put the symbolic divider back in place and patted the back of the bouncer that was guarding the entrance. Megan liked the idea of an exclusive corner of the club, away from the masses and her eyes scanned the upper luxe lounge appreciatively as soon as they’d entered The Blue Room. It seemed to have it’s own kind of cool vibe compared to the rest of the complex. There weren’t any club kids or techno-ravers in the crowd, it was all beautiful people, enjoying their own private rush while Deko-ze was spinning in the darker corner of the room, focused on his turn-tables as he spun deep, hard house music tracks. Megan easily acclimated to the scene as Zach walked them up to the bar, making casual small talk.
“I heard you were reluctant to come tonight,” he said to her.
She felt herself blush. “Yeah, don't get me wrong, I love to party, especially at an EDM event like this, but it’s just such a commitment with the recovery down time after these things.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m going to hook you up good tonight. Besides, it’s different up in VIP. You’ve got space to dance, space to chill, and some guaranteed good times ahead.”
“Well, I guess it's a good thing I got talked into it then,” she said with a wry smile.
He leaned into her with a conspiratorial grin. “Fuck this getting talked into shit,” he said into her ear. “Make your own choices, Blondie. Live by your own rules. All that matters is what you think. I mean who says what’s really right or wrong. If you wanna do it, do it. If you wanna take it, take it.”
His words seemed leaden with hidden meaning, but Megan shrugged it off, nodding agreeably. Shane offered her a welcome escape from the conversation as he handed her a vodka redbull from the bar, and put his arm around her waist.
“I’ve got to depart, my friends,” Zach said, eyeing the lineup forming at the door. “But have fun and enjoy. The night is yours. Anything you need, you know who to come to.” He pressed a small pill into each of their palms, playfully grabbing Megan’s hand and leaving a kiss on the back of her knuckles as he did this. “I’ll catch you later, Blondie,” he whispered into her ear. He smiled at both of them and disappeared into the darker recesses of the room, going back to attending to the crowd near the entrance that were pressing to find inventive last-minute ways to get in and escape the furnace of heat on the main floor.
Megan turned her attention to the pill nestled ominously in her palm.
“So, what are they?” she asked Shane.
“Pure MDMA capsules,” he shouted over the music. “Don’t worry, Zach only gets the best.”
She nodded, feeling her legs starting to tingle at the prospect. They hadn’t partied in a long time. The first year of their relationship had been a wild ride but they’d settled into a quieter pace very quickly after that. No more crazy times or little party pills. No more Saturday nights that lasted until dawn. There was just the warm safe space of commitment and monotony. Megan smiled to herself, realizing that while she’d been thinking of monogamy, the wrong word had come to her mind. The play on words lingered in her thoughts. She started contemplating the idea that she missed this. Not the scene or the party, but the idea of the unexpected.
“Ready to drop?” he whispered into her ear.
She smiled back at him. “Ready!”
They both swallowed the capsules in their hand, eager for a trip down the rabbit hole. As they waited for the high to kick in they found a secluded booth in the corner of the room, just off the main dance floor and settled in to do some people watching. Shane put an arm around her and she leaned into his chest, letting her eyes explore their private playground for the night.
The room was filled with deep blue shadows, fit bodies moving in the darkness, occasionally lit with a neon flash or the fluorescent hue of a short white skirt or top that stood out under the UV lights on the dance floor. Megan’s tank top clung to her in the humidity of the club and her nipples began to poke through the damp fabric. Her breasts...
Megan watched her boyfriend produce the unassuming white letter-length envelope and lay it on the black laminate bar, nudging it her way. She watched his face for a telltale sign but his only response was to grin back at her and wink.
“What is this?” she asked coyly, a slow smile spreading across her face.
It had been five years to the date since they’d first met and while she’d been hoping for a small blue box from Tiffany’s with the clear-cut solitaire that she’d been eyeing for months, this clearly wasn’t it. And yet something in her stirred with excitement as her imagination took flight to other possibilities. Plane tickets, that was her immediate guess, and she thought of sun-drenched beaches or a romantic getaway to some broody European city where they’d sip wine on a warm balmy night and listen to Spanish guitar.
“I think you need to open the envelope,” he said, obviously as eager as she was.
Megan’s hands worked quickly, feeling giddy from the martinis they’d been enjoying and she prepared an obligatory ‘oh, you shouldn’t have’ expression. She felt very certain that on this precipitous occasion, he’d probably splurged on something grand.
When the tickets were finally in her hand, she read them and blinked twice, looking up at him with baffled eyes. She turned them over, seeking some inclination that this was a ruse designed to confuse her and prepare her for an even bigger surprise. But there was nothing else. Nothing but those two unassuming tickets to the last place on earth she wanted to be that night.
“Well?” he laughed. “Surprised?”
“Uhm, yeah, I guess you could say that,” Megan said finally. She looked up at him and frowned. “Tickets to a rave, Shane? Really? ”
She was inwardly aghast at how genuinely shocked he appeared to be by her lack of enthusiasm. Didn’t he know her at all by now?
“This is the exact party where we first met, five years ago tonight, Meg,” he said, trying to encourage some excitement. When she just stared back at him flatly, obviously not amused, he leaned against the bar, shaking his head. “You’re not very sentimental, I guess. I thought you’d be excited to get out and have some fun for a change.”
She rolled her eyes. “For a change? I thought we were having fun.”
Shane shrugged and looked down the long bar that they were standing at in the upscale boutique lounge, watching other similarly bored, disinterested couples trying to make crippling small talk with overpriced martinis in hand. The watered down ambient music seemed like a perfect backdrop to the murmur of nondescript conversations surrounding them. He felt the weight of it, as he usually did on their Saturday nights. Everything was so predictable. It was like watching a familiar reel playing over and over again, soothing after a long week of hectic work schedules and yet never offering any challenge or unexpected momentum. His heavy sigh was meant to convey more than the words he spoke.
“Don’t you ever get tired of being like this?”
Megan became unsettled by his tone, looking around them for a clue as how to respond. All she saw were swanky upscale urban couples like themselves and a mix of singles having drinks and enjoying the chill vibe of one of her favorite bars. Her gaze drifted toward the party tickets sitting between them and she remembered back to the night they’d first met at the electronic dance music festival. It was an annual industry event every labour day weekend that showcased an impressive line up of international DJs at a sprawling club complex in the city.
She’d barely been 22 years old back then, in low slung jeans with a tiny scrap of green silk tied like a scarf over her perky breasts, glow-sticks in hand on a riser, her long blonde hair clinging to her sticky sweaty skin. There, she’d danced to the deep techno house music beats of Benny Benassi that seemed to rise like a low pounding from her core and up and out through every limb. She’d felt alive; alive with the promise of youth; alive with the inherent freedom of the moment; and alive with the possibilities the night had yet to reveal. And there he’d been through the thick crowd of partygoers, staring up at her lithesome tight body, giving her a private audience of complete and utter focus and infatuation. And lust. There’d been that too.
Later, they’d merged into one hot coil of intensity on the dance floor. His hands had been everywhere, his mouth tasting her sweaty skin, the touch of his teasing fingers on her hips, sliding along the curve of her back and down into the low waistband of her jeans. They’d gone back to his loft and fucked for days on end, in his bed, on the floor, and under the hot spray of his shower, awakening everything vital and urgent within them that had made them feel like pure sexual beings. They’d bonded during those days of take-out delivery, sketched out and lounging, recovering from that night and getting to know each other in all the important intimate ways, both physically and emotionally. The connection had been undeniable.
And now, five years later, Megan felt distinctly uncomfortable. That same sweaty party of more than 10,000 strangers felt an old worn memory from a place they’d left deep in the past. They were a couple now and while they were both barely into their late twenties, she felt like her mind had moved onto other more important things.
They’d grown up after all, hadn’t they?
She watched Shane’s eyes as he glanced back at her, and saw a smear of defeat. He was disappointed in her. In them. The silence between them began to feel stagnant, like water that was no longer running freely between them. While a sense of predictability and boredom had slowly been creeping into their relationship, Megan felt it very tangibly for the first time that night. He wanted this, she realized, to return to the place of their beginning. She felt her resolve starting to weaken despite everything within her that wanted to fight against what those tickets represented.
“Well,” she said finally, sensing the obvious standoff between them. “Since you already got the tickets, I guess we can check it out for a bit.”
He smiled at her. “Are you sure?”
She shrugged. “Why not,” she said amiably. “Maybe things have gotten a little stale. We could probably use a little adventure.”
Earlier that night, Shane had surprised her with a new outfit to wear as part of their anniversary dinner plans and she realized now there had been ulterior motives to his choice. She’d originally been uncertain about the shiny white miniskirt and strappy tank top. It was far too revealing and bordering on slutty on its own, but there had been an expensive luxe knit semi-sheer sweater in the gift box as well and paired with her gladiator stilettos she’d looked upscale and chic at the lounge bar. Now it was obvious that they’d be checking her sweater and his blazer at the door, merging back into the same people that used to go out practically every weekend to trendy clubs and after hours parties, dancing until dawn with remnants of party-candy melting on their tongues.
Megan’s reluctance was palpable and yet she found herself shivering with anticipation as their taxi neared the club complex just after 1am. Even from the confines of the vehicle, she could hear the distant yet audible pounding of music as she saw the lights and activity of the scantily dressed crowd come into view. It was a kaleidoscope of images, long hair and glimpses of bare legs on the girls and fitted t-shirts over tanned muscle on the larger packs of guys. They flooded the street in front of the club entrance, winding a lineup to get in that seemed to go on for miles.
“Ugh, I don’t miss this at all,” she said, already feeling annoyed at the prospect of having to wait with the rest of the masses.
“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got it all set up. We’re going VIP all the way tonight.”
“Oh yeah? I didn’t know you kept in contact with those types still.”
He laughed and grabbed her hand. “Maybe I like the idea of still being able to surprise you,” he teased, leading her past the impatient people waiting in line.
Shane confidently strode towards the shorter VIP line at the side entrance door. The hulking bouncer nodded at him, clearly familiar with the arrangement and waved them forward. Megan paused for a moment as Shane spoke to him and she took one last look toward the city, an indigo silhouette against the backdrop of night sky and water. The past was ready to absorb them again, and in moments, the mammoth entertainment club complex had pulled them into an abyss of darkness where anything seemed possible.
As Shane handed over tickets and checked their things, Megan started to feel the first stirrings of excitement as her eyes strained to adjust to the lack of light. The music flooded her ears and she could feel the vibrations through her feet, reverberating through her legs and up into her core, settling in rhythm with her heart rate. She clung to Shane’s hand as they merged into the already sticky mass of people on the dance floor, shoulder-to-shoulder, all turned toward the DJ booth where Avicii was spinning his remix of Armin van Buuren’s Drowning.
Strobe lights lit the seemingly endless expanse of space as thousands of hands pushed through the colored laser beams. Huge blasts of cool air shot out from the upper level like a dragon breathing. The building itself seemed alive, inviting those it had swallowed into its primal lair to play. Megan felt the natural humidity of the club mixed with the body heat of the crowd immediately and her tank top quickly clung to her like a second skin, the back of her neck sticky and warm in just minutes. She swore several times as people bumped into her, almost knocking her off balance if she hadn’t been holding tight to his hand. Shane maneuvered them through the crowd toward the stairwell with a sense of purpose and Megan used him as a shield, happily submitting to his choice of direction and staying close behind him.
It was that familiar funhouse environment that used to feel like a second home to her and as they began their ascent up to The Blue Room, Megan started to relax and take in the scene, feeling an unexpected rush of nostalgia. The upper VIP lounge was considerably darker and less crowded than the main floor, lit mainly by LED lights in shades of blue that gave it an otherworldly kind of vibe. Megan had only been in there once before when she’d come to the club with a bartender friend that had gotten them VIP access to the lounge. Now she waited behind Shane’s tall form, pressing up against his back, feeling his skin hot and damp beneath his shirt.
“Almost there, baby,” he promised her, leaning in and leaving a playful kiss on her neck.
She saw a tall well-built guy with short, spiky dark hair and a bit of stubble on his smooth tanned skin moving towards them. He wore dark jeans and fitted black shirt with tattoo skull designs across the back. He was all hard lean muscle and he cut an imposing figure on the floor. In the darkness she could see that his eyes were bright green and they contrasted with his otherwise more exotic features, giving him a slightly devilish appearance that was unsettling. When he saw Shane, however, his face broke into an easy grin.
“Hey Bro!”
They patted each other on the back and Shane leaned in to talk to him in a lowered voice. Megan waited patiently beside him, unable to hear the conversation, but she noticed those green eyes on her, appraising her long bare legs and glimpse of taut belly as her skirt began to ride lower on her hips because of the humidity in the air. God, he was bad news, she decided immediately, although she did feel a little thrill at the way his eyes raked over her. Clearly Shane couldn’t see his predatory stare from the way the two men were positioned and she just looked away, a smile on her lips. With the distinct air of prospective hookups and sex, these parties had never been a particularly couples-friendly environment. How ironic that they were there again, five years later, to test the waters of temptation.
Finally Shane stood back and drew her into the conversation. “Hey, this is Zach,” he shouted over the music. “He’s a club promoter. He’s going to hook us up for the night!”
Zach smiled at her and she caught an air of flirtatious energy from him, but it seemed imbued in his personality more than intentional. It was probably what made him a successful events promoter, she decided. He had a certain virile charm that seemed like a drug on it’s own, magnetic and intriguing, even to someone like Megan who had always been a deeply committed and respectful girlfriend.
Zach unclipped the metal link chain at the entrance to the room and they slipped inside before he put the symbolic divider back in place and patted the back of the bouncer that was guarding the entrance. Megan liked the idea of an exclusive corner of the club, away from the masses and her eyes scanned the upper luxe lounge appreciatively as soon as they’d entered The Blue Room. It seemed to have it’s own kind of cool vibe compared to the rest of the complex. There weren’t any club kids or techno-ravers in the crowd, it was all beautiful people, enjoying their own private rush while Deko-ze was spinning in the darker corner of the room, focused on his turn-tables as he spun deep, hard house music tracks. Megan easily acclimated to the scene as Zach walked them up to the bar, making casual small talk.
“I heard you were reluctant to come tonight,” he said to her.
She felt herself blush. “Yeah, don't get me wrong, I love to party, especially at an EDM event like this, but it’s just such a commitment with the recovery down time after these things.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m going to hook you up good tonight. Besides, it’s different up in VIP. You’ve got space to dance, space to chill, and some guaranteed good times ahead.”
“Well, I guess it's a good thing I got talked into it then,” she said with a wry smile.
He leaned into her with a conspiratorial grin. “Fuck this getting talked into shit,” he said into her ear. “Make your own choices, Blondie. Live by your own rules. All that matters is what you think. I mean who says what’s really right or wrong. If you wanna do it, do it. If you wanna take it, take it.”
His words seemed leaden with hidden meaning, but Megan shrugged it off, nodding agreeably. Shane offered her a welcome escape from the conversation as he handed her a vodka redbull from the bar, and put his arm around her waist.
“I’ve got to depart, my friends,” Zach said, eyeing the lineup forming at the door. “But have fun and enjoy. The night is yours. Anything you need, you know who to come to.” He pressed a small pill into each of their palms, playfully grabbing Megan’s hand and leaving a kiss on the back of her knuckles as he did this. “I’ll catch you later, Blondie,” he whispered into her ear. He smiled at both of them and disappeared into the darker recesses of the room, going back to attending to the crowd near the entrance that were pressing to find inventive last-minute ways to get in and escape the furnace of heat on the main floor.
Megan turned her attention to the pill nestled ominously in her palm.
“So, what are they?” she asked Shane.
“Pure MDMA capsules,” he shouted over the music. “Don’t worry, Zach only gets the best.”
She nodded, feeling her legs starting to tingle at the prospect. They hadn’t partied in a long time. The first year of their relationship had been a wild ride but they’d settled into a quieter pace very quickly after that. No more crazy times or little party pills. No more Saturday nights that lasted until dawn. There was just the warm safe space of commitment and monotony. Megan smiled to herself, realizing that while she’d been thinking of monogamy, the wrong word had come to her mind. The play on words lingered in her thoughts. She started contemplating the idea that she missed this. Not the scene or the party, but the idea of the unexpected.
“Ready to drop?” he whispered into her ear.
She smiled back at him. “Ready!”
They both swallowed the capsules in their hand, eager for a trip down the rabbit hole. As they waited for the high to kick in they found a secluded booth in the corner of the room, just off the main dance floor and settled in to do some people watching. Shane put an arm around her and she leaned into his chest, letting her eyes explore their private playground for the night.
The room was filled with deep blue shadows, fit bodies moving in the darkness, occasionally lit with a neon flash or the fluorescent hue of a short white skirt or top that stood out under the UV lights on the dance floor. Megan’s tank top clung to her in the humidity of the club and her nipples began to poke through the damp fabric. Her breasts...
