“Hey.” You ask, “Ever been to a club?”
If Corrine were free tonight, she’d be all over this idea.
“A club? Like a weapon?”
“No, silly. A dance club!”
“I’ve been to a ball or two in my time.”
You stop walking.
“A…ball?”
Did he seriously just say he’s been to a ball?
Now you can’t help but picture Ziros in an old-fashioned costume, dancing a waltz at some sort of fancy royal party.
“Of course. I was very well-connected back in the day, you know.”
“Okay, but it’s notthatkind of dancing.”
“No?”
“No. Now I have to take you. Come on,” you say, leading him down the street toward a club that, well, if you’re honest, is probably more of a dive bar.
A place you only went to once, back when Corrine talked you into it.
And it really is a literal dive.
It’s downstairs in the basement of an old building, and the dance floor is already sticky with spilled beer. Probably not a great sign, considering it’s barely even dark outside, but hey—you’re here with the best bodyguard you could get.
What could go wrong?
Well.
Aside from maybe a monster attack.
Or that weird cashier dude showing up. Because sometimes you’ve started to get the bad feeling he’s stalking you—but that’s probably silly.
Or maybe this place will turn out to be owned by that blond vampire who let you stay on his superyacht.
Or…
Or it’s just a normal dive bar.
Yeah.
That’s probably the case.
Which is honestly kinda dangerous enough. It’s not even late in the evening, and it’s already so packed, you have to squeeze through dozens of dirty-dancing couples just to make it to the bar.
Oh.
That’s why.
It’s their Friday night special—the drinks start at a dollar and go up every hour.
And they just started.
