Nightclub

[Sorry for the word vomit. I was simultaneously doing homework/college essays while typing this up. Also, you don't need to reply this length. I'm a who doesn't know when to stop typing lol.]

It had probably been three – no – five hours since Rome had decided to waste his limitless amount of time at the city’s infamous nightclub. He already knew the ins and outs (and alcohol) of night life all too well, but it was a change of pace from his former responsibilities as the sole guardian of his brother and it took getting used to. What had occurred before his abrupt and mysterious teleportation to this city was a constant blur. Rome was sure he was on the rooftop of his brother’s school a few hours ago. He was positive that’s exactly what happened, but if that’s what had already occurred… how did he even end up in this godforsaken city? At first, he tried asking around to see if anyone knew where the city was located or if it was anywhere near Seoul, but he ended up going around in circles. It was like the metropolis he was currently in didn’t exist in life at all. This aggravated him so much. How the hell was he supposed to support his younger brother, if he couldn’t be anywhere near him? The ing Social Services probably tossed his little brother into a horrible foster care home. That was exactly what he was trying to prevent from happening in the first place. Now it was destined to ensue and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

“Well .” He harshly whispered as his gripped ever so slightly tightened around his ice cold beer, before downing it all in one gulp. To preoccupy himself from past thoughts, Rome found himself signaling the bartender for another drink – his fifth to be exact, but who’s counting? He wasn’t sure what he ordered, but he took whatever the guy slid along the table towards him. The drinks were like silk against his throat, but holy were they expensive. He could almost hear his wallet incessantly sobbing over the tremendous loss. However, the blinding flashes of neon lights and deafening roar of unfamiliar music made it much easier for Rome to temporarily forget all of his emotions. One of the rules he remembered about clubs was that you didn’t have to mull over the crappy things in your life while you’re intimately pressed up against a dozen or so bodies. Perhaps, he’ll find a lost soul within these crowds and they’ll somehow develop some sort of unspoken friendship. That would be nice, maybe. Honestly, all his thoughts were swirling and interchanging at an inconsistent rate, but that was a normality he had to cope with. One second he was leaning against the smooth wall and the next he was at the center of the club, getting to know the other possibly intoxicated individuals in more ways than one.

One person caught his eye though, but the alcohol turned his tongue to lead and he found it hard to converse in a natural fashion. Now don’t get him wrong, he isn’t the most eloquent speaker out there, but he was a lot smoother when he wasn’t inebriated out of his mind. Therefore, he lightly grazed her bare arm with his fingertips, before making direct eye contact with her to make sure she knew it was purposeful. The contact was subtle, but deprived of any underlying motives. Rome felt like he had to speak to her, but after spending most, if not all, of his social life taking care of his brother, he didn’t know any other way to demonstrate it.
“Are you here with somebody?” He mouthed, hoping she didn’t take the message in a negative manner.