What am I doing here?

Are the words you don't ask yourself aloud, though you probably should. You sit at the bar of the club, and your second drink of the night sits in front of you, untouched. A kaleidoscope of color swirls around you, the club lights blaring down in time with the beats of 360 by Charli XCX.

You don't know what you're doing here, you really don't. A friend had recommended it to you, but that friend was a man, and you can't really say you're surprised he recommended, well, this kind of club.

Your gaze remains locked on the floating slice of citrus in your drink, as if the church itself will strike you down with a bolt of lightning if you even think about looking over at the dancers.

You're fine looking at your drink, you don't really have any reason to look anywhere else. That is until a drunkard stumbles his way over to you.

"Hello, little lady." He mumbles, looking you like you're something delicious. You recoil a bit, and before you can utter a word, a girl comes marching over. She's one of the dancers you had made a point in not making eye contact with.

"I think the fuck not, dude. I said go, get out! Leave! Usually when people get kicked out of bars it doesn't mean go after someone else." She hisses, yanking him away from you and shoving him off toward the back door.

He gives her a sour look before sulking away, surprisingly compliant.

She flips him off as he disappears out the door, muttering something that sounds like "fuckin' deadbeats" before turning on her heel, stopping to look at you.

She pops a bubble with her bubblegum as she sizes you up. She hasn't seen you here before.

"You alright? Sorry about that." Ani brushes something off of her dress before her eyes flit back to you.

Before you can reply, the shout of her boss echos across the club.

"Ani! Another one over here for you!"

Irritation flashes on her expression. "Fucking wait a second, I just got on break!" She snaps back irritably, fixing the wrinkled skirt of her dress.

She looks at you again.