Early February 1998: Bitten

The chilly air nipped at me, piercing my skin as I walked and my lungs as I breathed. My thick-soled boots thumped against the pavement as I walked, continuously peering over my shoulder to ensure that nobody was following me, toward my destination. One of the perks of going away for school was not having to worry about my parents hovering over my every move, but I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was following me. Well, perhaps not intentionally following me, but rather going to the same place.

I had told Draco that I was sneaking out of the castle for the night to explore a place called the Tipsy Tangie, a nightclub in London for magic folk like me. (And by "like me," I don't mean wizards. I mean... well, ask Draco. He knows.) Part of me had hoped that Draco would have wanted to accompany me on this excursion, as it was my first time venturing into this particular community. He claimed to be too tired for an adventure, though I had a feeling he didn't want to be too close to the other people who would be there, other people "like me."

As I continued walking through the cold night, I heard a faint thumping sound, a beat enclosed within one of the buildings in the city. The nightclub was getting closer. Or, rather, I was getting closer to the nightclub. I held my belongings in my hands, hidden in my pockets: ID, check; some money, check; my wand; check.

Just as I mentally checked off my list of things to keep track of, I turned the corner and saw a door fly open, the beat thumping thunderously for the brief moment before the door closed. I had arrived.

I approached the entrance cautiously, my slow footfalls silent against the pavement beneath them. My heart racing, I looked up at the man guarding the front door. He looked rather sleazy, his greased back hair falling into his face in clumps. His eyes were dark as the night around us, and they pierced into me with an almost ravenous glint.

"Seven Knuts," he said, reaching his hand out.

Just as I dug into my pockets for the coins, a felt a slap on my shoulder. My body went numb, not from the cold but from the touch. I hadn't expected anyone I knew to be here. When I looked over, though, it was a complete stranger. Another pair of hungry eyes, these ones ice blue, gazed at me, a half-smile creeping into the corner of his mouth. His spiky blonde hair

Both of these men knew that I was new to this type of scene, fresh meat experimenting with whatever chaos ensued behind these doors. 

"He's with me, Carey," the man said to the doorman, who reacted as if he was quite unsure what was happening, but then nodded.

The doorman pulled his hand back, and the man with the spiky blonde hair guided me through the doorway. The beat of the music thundered into my head; I winced for a moment, closing my eyes against the music. When I opened them, I noticed that my clothing choices were far too loose. Men were dancing in tight clothing that revealed their rippling muscles. That is, if they were wearing clothing at all; most were half naked, wearing only a pair of shiny skivvies that accentuated a gratuitous bulge.

"I'm Adrian," he whispered, his voice like velvet in my ear. "Adrian Sanguini. Can I get you a drink?"

His eyes flashed when he offered a drink, and I felt as though my only option were to agree. Before I truly realized what had happened, there was a plastic cup in my hand, filled with a liquid as icy blue as this stranger's eyes. Caution caused me to hesitate, for it seemed irresponsible to accept this drink.

"Take a sip."

His whisper glided against the skin of my neck, and my hairs raised with the gooseflesh. As I obeyed his command, lifting the drink to my lips, I eyed the revelry of the dance floor. The strobe lights flashed like blue lightning, glistening for a split second off the men's chests. The way their bodies undulated with the beat of the music was sensual, attractive.

I closed my eyes as I let the liquid within my cup enter my mouth. It was cold, sweet, and tart; it lingered for a moment before I swallowed it. A slight burn trailed down my throat with the liquid.

Adrian stood beside me with a smile upon his face, his white teeth glinting in the low light of the nightclub. He nodded as if to praise me for obeying him. I could feel his hand land on the small of my back, and my heart began to race. There was something dangerous about this man, my heartbeat was telling me, and I was attracted to it.

Adrian watched my gaze upon the crowd of skin dancing in the center of the room. That smile peeked through the dim light once again.

"See anyone you like?" he asked.

It was all so new to me that my lust was telling me that I did see someone I liked: Everyone. I wanted to partake in the chaos, the sensuality, the debauchery. I couldn't admit that to a complete stranger, however, even if he did pay for my entrance and buy a drink for me. Those gestures told me that he'd already found someone that he liked: Me.

I shook my head at Adrian. He seemed impressed that I, being so young and obviously inexperienced, wasn't going to give into the carnal desire so easily. But really, it was just too bloody dark to see anyone at all. Everyone's bodies were flashing in the colors of the rainbow from the disco lights above us, but there was no actual light to see much of anything except all that skin.

"Really?" he wondered, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Not even me?"

His hand disappeared from my back and he turned to face me. He stuck his arms out and leaned against the wall, pinning me close to him without an escape. Our eyes met, and I could feel myself wanting to melt into him. Of course I was interested in him. Why wouldn't I be?

His hot breath washed over me; his breath sour with the smell of alcohol. Those piercing eyes still gazed into my soul. For a moment, the thumping beat of the music faded, and I could focus only on Adrian's body getting even closer to my own. I drew in a shaky breath and tried not to breathe back in his face out of self-consciousness. 

"I... I mean," I stammered. "Of... of course, you're very attractive."

A lopsided smile stretched across his lips. He pressed away from me, his arms sliding down my shoulders, following my biceps and forearms. His left pinky wrapped itself around my right pinky, and he drew me away from the wall. 

"Let's dance."

As quickly as the thunder-bass had faded, it erupted back into my ears. I couldn't hear anything he said as his lips moved while he led me toward the dance floor, but I was beginning to think that conversation wasn't the point of this kind of club.

Adrian spun me in a half-circle so that he was behind me. His hands gripped my hips firmly, and the space between his body and mine closed. I'd never really experienced this kind of place before, so I was unsure of what my body should be doing. Adrian, on the other hand, seemed quite familiar. As the music roared through the room, his body undulated like waves, moving mine with it. I didn't think that I was as rhythmic as he was, but he was guiding me through the song.

The song played on, and his hands moved from my hips; they slid between my skin and the shirt, and he ran them gently up the sides of my ribcage. The physicality and sensuousness of his touch forced gooseflesh to break out across my skin. I only hoped he couldn't tell. As our bodies continued to melt together on the dance floor, a bulge in his tight pants pressed against me. A lump grew in my throat: Nervous and apprehensive as I was, I could not hide my intrigue and attraction. I found that my arms had reached up and over, resting behind me around Adrian's neck. I leaned my head into him and tilted it to the side; he nuzzled a slightly scruffy cheek against my smooth, adolescent neck. My eyes closed.

When I opened them, the strobe lights continued to dance across the room, flashing onto the faces of strangers. Everyone was in the moment; their bodies pulsing as one with the beat. Just like mine. Just like Adrian's.