Desiree was not deterred. She led me by the hand toward the congregation of bouncers.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “You heard what he said.”
“Yeah, but they’re obviously going to make an exception for you,” Desiree said.
Of course they will. It was like Jeremy had told me about walking up to girls—if you hesitate, you lose your confidence. If you don’t act within three seconds, then you’re not likely to act at all. I was glad I had Desiree to pull me along.
“Good evening,” Desiree yelled over the surrounding music to the humungous bouncers standing behind a velvet rope. They were so much bigger standing before us than they were a hundred feet away. “We hate to cut in front of everyone, but we’d really like to go inside. We hear your club is the best.” Desiree smiled and batted her beautiful green eyes.
Three of the bouncers were looking at us while the fourth was focused on the line. They gave each other amused looks and mocking gestures while Desiree spoke.
One spoke up as soon as she finished her sentence. “Listen, kids, you’re both a little—”
He stopped cold when he saw what was etched into my hand. I had pulled my hand from Desiree’s as soon as he started speaking and yanked up my sleeve so all three bouncers could see. I stared confidently into the eyes of the bouncer talking.
The mocking gestures and condescending tones vanished immediately and no one even needed a second look at my arm.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the bouncer who had been speaking stumbled. “I meant no disrespect.”
“I’m sure you didn’t. You get approached by many people trying to weasel their way in one way or another. I understand that we look like nothing more than one in a hundred weasels.”
“No, sir. I would never think anything like that.” The bouncer turned to one of his cohorts who put a finger up to his earpiece and turned his head when he began speaking.
A porcelain-skinned, pink-haired woman appeared through the black-glass entrance only seconds later. She must have stood over six feet tall in her platform heels and carried a thin computer tablet, much like Darius’s.
“My name is Gabriella, and I will lead you to your family suite.” She unhooked one side of the velvet rope to let us in. “This is quite the pleasure. May I ask your name?”
“Oliver—Oliver Lorne,” I said, attempting not to stutter. “And this is my girlfriend, Desiree.” The girlfriend thing felt good to say, even though it was for appearances only (at least to Desiree).
The bouncers each took a step back as Desiree and I stepped into their personal space. I nodded to them as I passed like I figured someone important and powerful would do.
“Well, Mr. Lorne, welcome to Level Seven, the premier entertainment experience in all of Provex City. I will take good care of you and your girlfriend.” Gabriella shook our hands and guided us through the tinted glass entrance.
As soon as we stepped through the glass, we were hit with the true volume of the music. Gabriella led us down a dimly lit hallway full of settling mist. The only light came from the floor—from backlit glass tiles that shot up light in a full spectrum of colors as we stepped on them.
Desiree grabbed my hand again and held it tightly as we approached what looked like lightning flashes ahead of us.
“Do you like to dance, Miss Desiree?” Gabriella asked as we reached the clearing.
We stepped out from the end of the hallway and the mystical wall of smoke.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Desiree said, and just as she finished speaking we got our first real view of the club. Desiree’s eyes grew so wide I thought they might burst.
“It’s a sight to behold, isn’t it?” Gabriella said. “We’ve kept the inside of this club out of pictures and off the interlanet for three years now. Your photolas won’t work in here. The firewall within the club blocks any picture taken by blacking it out. Our security photolas are the only things that will pick up any images and we have to work extremely hard to keep those images secure. I’m sure you can appreciate that.” Gabriella stepped aside so we could approach a railing, much like the one outside with the pulses of light running through it, and get a clear panoramic view of the entire club. “Welcome to Level Seven.”
7
Le7el
We were standing two floors up from the main dance floor, though I could see smaller dance areas on several different floors. The main area was open to all of the floors, stretching up seven stories. The rest of the seven floors were all surrounding platforms that overlooked the main dance floor. The bursts of light I saw through the mist were indeed bolts of lightning streaking down from the ceiling, striking the dance floor with an explosion of colorful sparks. And the people continued to dance unfazed around the explosions. The dance floor was also made up of color-changing glass tiles like the ones we were standing on now. Male and female aerialists twirled, twisted, and flipped through the open air, interacting with each other in an erotic, angelic dance, dodging the lightning streaks as they flew. There were clear pillars connecting each platform to the next with one topless guy or girl somehow swimming around inside with no visible oxygen tank. All they wore were bikini bottoms and their bodies were painted either blue or green.
“Not bad,” I said, trying to sound underwhelmed.
“I’m sure you’re not easily impressed,” Gabriella said. “Allow me to show you to your suite.” Gabriella led us down a few steps and around the platform we were on.
Along the wall were torches with fire that changed color with the music. We passed a bar and a small dance floor occupied almost entirely with women, reminding me of the dance floor at Desiree’s party. Most of the guys were lined up around the edges. That was one thing that wasn’t different.
As we passed our first swimmer’s pillar, Desiree took off her coat and then nudged me.
“She’s almost completely naked,” she whispered.
“I saw that,” I said. I had noticed about two seconds after we entered the club.
Desiree craned her head around as we walked by the swimming woman and then adjusted the bust of her dress.
Gabriella guided us past several more bars, dance areas, and lounges. Glass bowls with more unnaturally colored flames hung from chains attached to the platform above. The flames instantly and simultaneously changed colors in time with the music like strobe lights.
“After you.” Gabriella stopped and held out her arm, inviting us into a glass elevator capsule. Desiree and I stepped inside, followed by Gabriella, and we shot up to the seventh floor.
We had a private platform shaped like a half-circle with another light-pulsating rail extending to the wall on either side. The closest platform hung a good ten feet away. There were four couches and two tables. Glass bowls of colored fire hung from the wall, flanking the elevator, and more sat in the middle of each table.
Gabriella walked up to one of the tables and tapped the glass bowl. Each of the four flames shrank to half their size.
“You can change the lighting to fit your mood,” Gabriella said, tapped the glass again, and the flames grew brighter than when we had walked onto the platform. She brought it back to the original illumination.
I walked up to the other table and tried for myself. Surprisingly, the flames seemed to give off no heat whatsoever. The glass bowl was cool to the touch.
Also on the table was an ice bucket with another bottle of champagne—like we hadn’t already had enough—and two glass flutes.
How’d they know there would be two of us coming to this private room?
“Your bottle service is unlimited and we have a food menu here. Everything is complimentary and delivered directly to your private suite.” Gabriella tapped one of the tables and it appeared to ripple like the surface of a pond, and a screen came to life with the menu. She demonstrated how to scroll and navigate through the menu items. “Press here to order anything you desire.” She scrolled through a few more screens. “Press here to contact me directly. Do yo
u have any questions or is there anything you’d like right now?” She kept her finger pressed to the screen and dragged it around the table to show how it could be passed around.
Desiree and I glanced at each other and shrugged.
“I think we’re good for the moment. We’ll take a look at the menu and order something a little later,” I said.
“Very good. At least let me start you off,” Gabriella said, popped the cork on the champagne bottle and poured us each a glass. “I’ll come back and check on you later. If you do not wish to be disturbed, you may press here,” she said as she scrolled to another screen on the table, “and your elevator will be locked, except in the case of an emergency. Anything less, we grant you total privacy. The seventh floor is the only floor without video photolas. You can only be seen by people on the other seventh floor suites and by our sky angels. Some couples like that.” Gabriella smiled, bowed, and disappeared into the elevator capsule.
“What did she mean by that?” I asked as soon as we were alone.
“That if you’re gonna have sex up here, then you’re gonna have spectators,” Desiree answered.
“Oh…” I felt stupid for not picking up on that. And now that we were alone, and after Desiree mentioning sex, it felt a little awkward. “We seem to be the only floor to not have topless swimmers,” I said to lessen the tension, which sounded more helpful in my head.
“We’ve got the aerial—sky angels,” Desiree said, dropping her coat onto a nearby couch and approached the railing. She immediately took two steps back. “Whoa, we’re really high up.”
I threw my coat on top of hers, walked up, and leaned against the lit rail. The aerialists were mostly flying below us, but would occasionally bounce up to our level. They were close enough that I could see they were wearing transparent bodysuits with designs painted in strategic areas for at least a minimal amount of modesty.
I looked back at Desiree. “It’s not so bad.”
“Why does prestigious always mean high up?” she asked and took a few more steps away from the edge. She was obviously as afraid of falling as I was of drowning.
“Because rich people want to look down upon everybody else?”
“That’s probably true,” she said, picking up one of the champagne flutes, and taking a sip.
“I thought you were done for the night?”
“I was done at the restaurant. I wanted to be able to enjoy whatever else we were gonna do tonight. And look where we ended up.”
“In paradise,” I said and went for my flute.
We clinked glasses and continued to drink.
The music was some type of techno-tribal infusion. It was loud, powerful, and feral. Desiree swayed where she stood, holding her glass out in front of her. She couldn’t stop her body from moving to the beat of the music.
With my champagne glass draining fast, I leaned against the railing, looking down at the flying angels and the mass of moving people on the dance floor far below. A bolt of pink lightning streaked down to the floor and pink sparks flew when it hit. There were dozens of topless swimmers across the great chasm, on the platforms below. But it wasn’t like any of them were close enough that I could make out any details. There were small groups of people partying in seventh-floor suites like ours, but the two directly next to us sat empty. The floors below were all continuous platforms, not like our separated suites.
Desiree took a seat at the table and poured herself another glass of champagne.
“This is so good!” she said and began scrolling through the table screen while she sipped from her flute. “What should we order?”
“One of everything? Why not, it’s all free. I wonder how long it would take them to make it all.”
“How about just the desserts?”
“Go ahead. What’s stopping you?”
“Still fitting into my dress at the end of the night. That’s what,” Desiree said. She leaned forward and ran her hand over the now green flame…then blue…then orange…then purple… “It’s not even hot.”
“Which is a good thing, ’cause you’d be in a lot of pain right now if it was,” I said.
“Na ah, I’m magic, remember?” Her words were already rolling off her tongue less pronounced. “When this is gone, we’re going down to the dance floor,” Desiree said, pointing to the half-empty bottle. “And when we get back, our choco-lavation will be here waiting for us.”
“What’s that?”
“I have no idea, but it looks delicious.” She showed me the picture of the dessert from the screen.
“And have another bottle sent up,” I said, draining more of our bottle into my glass.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. No one cares that we’re drinking here, but we still do have to go home tonight. We can’t spend the night here.”
“Don’t worry; I’ll get you home. Everything will be cool.” I walked around the table to stand close to her.
She leaned sideways from her seat, resting her head against my hip. “I know. I trust you, Oliver—Oliver Lorne.”
I ran a few fingers through her hair, placed a lock behind her ear, and when she didn’t stop me, I began massaging the back of her scalp.
Desiree didn’t move, but whispered, “That feels good.”
It did for me, too. It felt good to have her head resting against me. I didn’t want to move either.
Then she sat up straight—her hair taken away from me.
“Ready to go downstairs?” Desiree asked, standing up and scooting her half-empty glass to the far side of the table.
“The champagne’s not gone yet.”
“That’s okay. I need to dance.”
We left our suite without me having any more of a say. I was the one with the wolf-head tattoo that everyone in Provex City feared, but it was Desiree who was really in charge here. Jeremy probably would have slapped me, and for more reasons than one.
In the elevator, we saw the platforms flash by until we reached the ground floor, two floors below where we originally came in.
Desiree grabbed my hand and led me to the wall of people lining the dance floor. Lights flashed from the tiles beneath our feet, lightning bolted down from the heavenly ceiling, and sparks flew in fits of explosions. I felt like we were walking into a neon warzone.
We passed through the first line of people, which was denser than the inside, and made our way through the moving bodies to find a small area of our own. When we found that perfect spot, Desiree turned and wrapped her arms around my neck.
I carefully positioned my hands on her waist and attempted to coax my feet into moving to the beat of the electronic music. This was only dancing-attempt number two, and though I still felt awkward around all these other fluid-moving people, the champagne definitely helped ease my anxiety.
We looked into each other’s eyes. We closed our eyes. We felt the closeness of our bodies. We bumped into other carefree people. We laughed. We drew each other close. We lessened the movement of our feet. We leaned in. We kissed. And it was not like before. The comparison I had between kissing Anna and kissing Desiree was no longer accurate. Desiree kissed me with such tortured fervor that the rest of the over-stimulating world just melted away. No one could get in between us; no one could pry us apart. It could have been the alcohol, or at least the aid thereof—but I believed deep inside that it was genuine passion.
When our lips parted, we were both panting and gasping for air. I stared into her eyes and she stared into mine. We were truly connected for a split second and in that moment, all of our complications, baggage, and regrets didn’t matter. In that moment, I didn’t care about finding my father. The lovely, quirky, and haunted girl before me was all I wanted…desired…needed.
“Thank you for tonight,” Desiree said.
“I wouldn’t want to share it with anyone else,” I said.
“I’ve gotta pee,” Desiree said, and just like that, we were fighting our way off the dance floor, dodging entranced couples and tile-striking b
olts of lightning. We were lucky to have survived.
The bathrooms were positioned far apart. I walked Desiree to the women’s room before searching for the men’s room for myself. As expected, the women’s room had a line, so I figured I had plenty of time to find the men’s room and make it back before Desiree would be finished. And my assumption was right. She wasn’t in the line of women against the wall any longer, so I waited against a pillar, eyeing the women as they exited the bathroom.
A few minutes of waiting was fine, but after a while I began to grow concerned. I looked around to see if I had missed her walking out, with her actually standing around waiting for me. But I didn’t see her sparkling red dress anywhere.
I checked my cell phone, but I had no service, no signal, and very little battery life left. Of course our phones wouldn’t work here. I paced around the pillar and finally decided to stop a woman who was exiting the bathroom.
“Excuse me; can you check on my girlfriend?” I asked shyly.
The woman seemed happy to help, so I described Desiree to her, and she walked back in.
I waited impatiently by the exit, probably a little too close because I received disapproving glances from other women exiting the bathroom.
Finally, the woman I had talked to returned with an expression that could only mean some type of bad news.
“Your girlfriend’s sick,” the woman said in a somber tone. “She told me to tell you not to worry. Just give her a few minutes. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
So I waited.
And waited.
I must have watched hundreds of women go in and out of the bathroom. I ended up stopping another woman, startling her more than I had intended, but I was getting desperate. She went back in and returned a few minutes later.
“I couldn’t find your girlfriend in there. I checked all around, called around, and everything,” the woman said and walked away still apologizing for not being more helpful.
It took only a short time of pacing in front of the exit before I couldn’t take waiting any longer. Something was wrong. Desiree wouldn’t just disappear and leave me here. My heart thumped hard against my ribs.
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