Turn right to Venus's Clubhouse. 7 PM.

10 pages left.

'Few steps away, Eurydice had stepped on a nest of snakes and had been bitten...'

Course fingers wedge an almost-invisible wire between where the pages are binded, a makeshift bookmark but not the worst thing he's used. 

All this reading makes a certain thirst rise. 

Charles snaps shut the thin novel, adjusting himself in his leather seat, hiding it in the safety of a glove department before starting the engine. His car was running out of gas. Two more trips and it'll need a refill fast.

He does a mini-check on himself in the rear-mirror, leaning back and widening his eyes to the max, as he uses his fingers and gently pinches out the soft lenses out of each eye. The amber eye-contacts on the tip of his finger glint in the setting sun rays before Charles disposes them into a wrinkly paper bag nearby. 

Note to self: Buy more paper bags.

Then he swiftly pulls out an eyedropper and squeezes a fresh droplet into each eye. Blinking hard at the minty feeling spreading through his eye-sockets, he breathed out slowly and squints at the last stretch of sunlight across his dashboard. 

It's time.

⊹ ⋆ ⊹ ⋆ ⊹ ⋆

Moving streaks of vibrant pinks and blue light shower people from above, the soft lemon scent mixing with a smokiness in the air makes for a welcome as the bodyguards happily beckoned Charles into the booming nightclub, more spacious than the library he visited.

Despite being new in town, he felt many looks thrown his way in interest and some interested but nobody seemed to dare to, or want to, approach him when the DJ hits the next song— pulling in rounds of applause and hollars as people forget about him.

He settles into a circular seat at the mostly empty bar counter, ordering himself a random non-alcoholic drink and downing it fast. Refreshing. He paid the young bartender using a twenty.

"Wow you look like a movie star from this side angle, Charles Bergstein." A sharp feminine voice calls from closeby.

"You know who I am?" He turns to give a lighthearted suspicious look to the shorter girl as she boldly saunters near and takes the empty seat next to him.

She playfully sips her gradient glass, her blonde brows pushing up against the other like an upside-down V. "Hard not to, Mr Bergstein." She intoned cheerfully, putting aside her drink further on the countertop and leaning against it. "I'm Jenna by the way."

"Everyone's been talking about you and now I can see why. I'm so glad I caught you first, City boy." In an instance of a flashing light, his face cringes at the pet name but relaxes fast when Jenna's catlike gaze meets his again.

"City boy? I'll have you know, it's been a long time since I've been a boy." 

Jenna rolls her eyes quickly while scoffing in the hard-core music, Charles caught that look as he slowly gives his empty glass to throw bartender. 

"Mr Bergstein?" She clears her throat above the music, his grey eyes, shielded in an array of colours from the lights, shifts onto her questioning. 

He doesn't think he has time for any... Other activities but getting to know one more person here would be beneficial. 

"Now I feel ancient when you call me that," Charles forces out a natural chuckle, running his hand through the side of his thick swept-back hair which the girl's eyes follow eagerly.

"You don't look that old, Charles. And plus, I'm turning 22 in a few weeks, you can't possibly be older right?" The teasing tone in her flirty voice evidently used to make him take the bait.

He takes it willingly. A little fun never hurt anyone.

"27."

"Wow— Just half a decade older! Told you that you don't look old," she said smiling victoriously.

"Right you did," Charles reciprocated her easy-going smile, occasionally sweeping his gaze to the other people dancing in various styles across the dance floor as he senses her ogling his body. As long as she wasn't going to talk, he didn't care anymore.

There was nothing else in between them. No words shared until—

"—Call me Jen." She abruptly says, twirling the metal straw in her half-empty icy drink, her sparkling eyes never leaving his under the ever-changing neon lights.

"Pleasant meeting you, Jen."

"Mmhmm, you too."

There was something familiar in Jen's face. Bone structure? She's a nobody as far as Charles is concerned. He crosses his arms tight and keeps his distance respectful, scouting away inch by inch when Jen's body slides a little too close, when her arm brushes against his, like a slippery ice-cube he can't pick up to throw.

Maybe being boring would help. "So, do you got any family here?"

"Huh, yeah I got a little sister." Jen dismissively nods, leaning over the bar counter and ordering a refill to the smiling bartender. "I'd introduce her to you but she's too mousy to be seen in here, sucks to suck but it's her life not mine ya know what I mean." 

"Put this one on my tab," Charles grins to the bartender as he hands over his card for verification. 

Jen brushes back her strawberry locks with both hands as if to bring attention to the soft cleavage in her deep neckline, a more than pleased look on her plump cherry-lips. "Thanks, you're really sweet. Charles." 

He nods shortly, thinly smiling as a certain boost in the music blasted out from the rowdy crowded dance floor and Jen couldn't resist peering over to the source. Her shoulders bouncing with the rhythm.

Perfect.

All it takes is a slight of hand, the distracted bartender, busy partygoers hogging all the space on the dance floor, the climaxing bass dropping at a heart-punching rate. Charles smoothly reaches for her full glass while Jen's attention is elsewhere up at the dancing DJ, a tiny white tablet barely visible between his fingers is let go into her alcohol. It dissolves entirely in the second that Charles retracts his hand casually to lay on the bar counter. 

And Jen is nonthewiser, whipping her hair back on purpose, the tiniest bit hitting Charles in the face, as she giggles loudly over the blaring electro music.

"—So like I used to take drives around the border of the town, you should come with me and my friends next time. They would love you being there." 

Charles shrugs though flashes her a charming full-teeth smile, "I'll think about it." 

"Yeah you should. It'll be loads of fun, and there's free drinks too—" she continues, trying to entice him.

Jen flutters her lashes on repeat like a malfunctioning robot, looking like she has something stuck in them but Charles couldn't tell as she nurses her new drink in hand while looking away from him and fluffing up her hair in large gestures. Faint waves of sweet-smelling candy with an underlying hint of smoke and sweat waft from her but all he could focus on in his mind is when she will stop talking. 

He smiles, nods, compliments her makeup and watches as each time Jen takes sips of her fruity- whatever the name is- drink. Her previous alertness dulling into a lazy pleasant silence. 

Well it is a nightclub, he wasn't expecting any peace of mind when he decided to enter.

"I could use a drive back... homeeee." There's a distinct tired slurr in her words.

Charles sighs, standing from his seat and stretching his numbed legs as Jen does too— blowing a lazy kiss at the bartender who winks in turn. 

"Yeah, I'll do that. Where do you live?"

.     .     .

After the car shifts into rest beside the sidewalk, Charles stops the engine.

"Could you.... Call Claudia for meeee," Jen leans her glittery face against the plush leather and pouts exaggerating though her heavy-lidded drunken state shows full honesty. 

Charles carefully replies, eyeing her lazily held cellphone. "Sure... Which Claudia? I still don't know a whole lot of the people in town." Only one. 

Jen snorts pig-like, the kind she only does at home with her sister or close friends, the ugly sound amusing Charles as she shoves her cellphone onto his lap a dangerous inch away from his zipper.

"Just call herrrrr for me, will you? There's... Like only one Claudia in town.... Call Loser for me pleaseeeeeeee Charlie." Her last words before she succumbed to a limp sleep

Charles holds back a laugh as he nods at the lightly snoring girl, tapping through her password-less cellphone and finding 'Loser' in her contacts. Instead of calling her, Charles chose the message button.

'Hi, Jenna's sister. I am a friend. Jenna is too drunk currently, I drove her back and I'm parked right infront of your house.' (Seen) 

Instantly a response came.

'I'm coming. Thank you for driving her back.' (Online)

And wait, he did, right as Jen rouses from her nap and left behind on the leather sparkling imprints of her makeup. Thank goodness this car wasn't a rental.

"Claudiaaaaaa." Groans an obviously drunken Jen leaning heavily against the outer side of his car, hair plastered all over her face as nonstop rounds of laughter ripple out from her in the dead of night. Charles watches from within his darkly tinted windows as a messy-haired Claudia rushes out to help Jen, struggling to carry, more so drag, the stumbling baby-deer legs of her older sister inside the house. 

She didn't look back even once. 

Charles drives off after a couple of seconds of staring, memorising the area. Things are looking too easy.