“And you know this because…you are said immature little girl?”
“Shut it, Maximilian.”
Vivienne could only shake her head, sigh and wait. Max hated when people said his full name, well…because it was one hell of a name. When she’d first heard it, she’d immediately thought of Gladiator, and although she’d tried to keep in her laughter, she’d ended up laughing in his face. Luckily, they’d been friends for years before he told her his full name and he couldn’t just break it off over her reaction to his name.
“Make me, Drew the Prude.”
Drew didn’t reply for a few moments and Vivienne popped an eyelid open. Had Max succeeded in really pissing her off by using that silly moniker he’d given her in college?
Drew had leaned forward and so had Max. They were now facing each other and she could make out their silhouettes and some of their expressions whenever they passed a streetlight or another car.
“Just because I don’t screw everything that moves does not make me a prude, Maximilian.”
It was said in a soft, hiss-filled voice. For a moment, Vivienne wondered if they remembered that she was there. She was preparing to seriously interrupt with a non-related question when Max replied, soft yet forceful. “No, you’re a prude because you refuse to do anything out of that stuck-up, prim and proper comfort-zone of yours. Drew. The. Prude. Suits you well.”
“Sooo…where are we going, Max? I mean, this guy has been driving for a long time,” Vivienne said loudly, leaning forward and forcing both of them back into their respective corners.
Max didn’t answer for long moments. “It’s this place called Fangs. It’s on the outskirts of the city. That’s why it’s so far.”
“We’re going to a place called Fangs?” Drew asked incredulously. “For Vivienne’s birthday, you’re taking her to some Goth-club? I mean, at least, I took us out to dinner at the—”
“Four Seasons. I was there, remember? Didn’t want to tell you but you were robbed. Food was bland at best, overcooked, or undercooked. You could have probably made her better food and that’s saying something.” He turned to address Vivienne once more. “It’s pretty exclusive, Viv, and definitely a step up from smoky bars, and food for people with no taste buds. My boss is on the VIP list of the place so she lent me her card—”
“Spare us the details on what you did to get it.”
Vivienne glared at Drew, but she’d turned to look out of the window. Max didn’t take the bait and continued on.
“And it’s rumored to have the best drinks and music in the city.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m sure we’ll have fun.” Probably partly due to the fact that they entertained her with their constant bickering everywhere they went. Hopefully, they would entertain her by simply being good friends tonight, though from their prelude at the restaurant and now in the cab, she highly doubted it.
***
“Oh my Go—what is she wearing—why are we here? I knew we shouldn’t have listened to him, Viv. Seriously!”
They’d cleared two rather large and mean looking bouncers who stood outside of the tall building that looked like some sort of abandoned warehouse. After scanning the VIP card Max provided, they’d demanded identification, before glaring at the three of them for a long while. It took at least five minutes for them to actually get in. They’d then walked along a dimly lit corridor and had run into another bouncer, who’d pushed open a door for them. As soon as the door opened, the sound of blasting music and the reds and greens of club lights assaulted them.
And now, Drew had a death grip on her hand and Vivienne was slowly losing feeling in her fingers. Her eyes were on a raven-haired woman, probably their age or slightly older, wearing a spiked dog collar, a pink and black cut up shirt that revealed a belly ring and a tattoo of a skull on her lower back, a short leather skirt, and long white stiletto boots! Vivienne did a quick scan of the place and noticed that there were cages toward the front, and half naked men and women were dancing in them.
She turned to Max, who stood at her other side, taking in the place and the people with an unreadable expression on his face. He had been unusually quiet since the encounter with the bouncers.
“Max, are you okay—?”
He blinked and nodded, pasting on a smile as he looked at her. “Come on, birthday girl. Let’s get you those drinks—all on me.” He grabbed her other hand and began to move in the direction of the bar.
As she followed, Vivienne let her gaze roam the place. She saw a few others dressed like the girl with the cut-up shirt, and they were mostly dancing with each other against the walls next to the large speaker systems, but she also noticed people in business attire, and some in very casual clothing. The business suits all sat farther away, behind the bar, in the back corner. They were obviously here to drink and talk, not dance. The casuals were all over—walking around, talking, dancing. A mix of people were gathered tonight. She no longer felt overdressed.