I mutter under my breath, thinking to just turn around and try again tomorrow, when a low, booming voice stops me.
"Mr. Fomori?" the bouncer yells.
I come closer, hoping that his recognizing me is a good thing.
He holds up his palm to the line, yelling again, "Are you here for Skyler?"
"Uhh, yeah." There's no way I'm going to be lucky enough that he's here.
"Alright, I'll let him know you're here," he speaks quietly into the transceiver on his collar. "Head on in."
The door opens, the loud music assaulting my senses, making my fucking eyes hurt from the pressure.
But I won’t find answers without facing some pain, so I force myself through the steel door, closing my eyes against the light bouncing off every wall.
My head throbs to the beat of the music, every step agony until I find a chair at the bar to the side.
"Mr. Fomori," a nervous woman appears in my line of sight, timidly placing a napkin in front of me. "I thought we might be seeing you soon. Your usual?"
I chuckle, rubbing my hand over my scalp. "I have a usual?"
"Yeah," she grins, holding up a finger to the man beside me, loudly demanding a refill, silently requesting his patience. "We call it The Bees Knees."
"You're kidding."
Her smile grows, "I'm not. Honey shine, lemon juice, and lavender syrup."
"Sounds great," I nod, fighting the urge to put my head on the sticky bartop.
Her eyes flick behind me for a second before she turns away, starting on my drink.
A man plops lazily into the seat beside me, knocking his knuckles on the counter.
My left eye twitch returns with a vengeance, the repetitive noise making everything in my head throb with annoyance.
The man laughs, and I fight to ignore him.
A self-satisfied sigh falls from his mouth, "That always drove you nuts."
"We know each other?" I ask, rubbing my eyes with my thumb and forefinger. I'm not sure if I'm relieved or worried that at least two people here know me within seconds of walking through the door.
A drink appears in my line of sight, sliding within reach. Withouthesitation, I snag it, taking the whole thing down in one go, needing to numb the ache even if only for a little while.
He laughs again, "Holy shit, that whole amnesia thing was real?"
"Unfortunately."
"I thoughtfor sureyou were just fucking with 'em," he slaps a hand on my shoulder. "Well, in any case, I'm sorry about this."
Before I can ask himabout what?a brown bag lands on my head, followed shortly by several arms grabbing me, dragging me off to god knows where.
The discombobulation makes my head spin, everything making me fucking dizzy. Spots of light slip through the seams of the bag, only making it worse. The tiny world I'm trapped in turns fuzzy, and all sound muddles like I'm under water with no way to fight back to the surface.
After what might be one minute or might be ten, I'm forcefully placed in a chair, and the bag gets ripped from my head, the light in this room far brighter than I was prepared for, leaving me blinded.
As I blink repeatedly, trying to manually force my eyes to adjust, the man comes into focus again, his jet black hair, sharp jawline, and dark eyes, features that look suspiciously similar to the woman who just served me a drink, becoming clear as he peers down at me with mild amusement.
"I take it you're Skyler."
