Standing in this fucking club was torture. I'm up for drinks, sure. But not a damn club, my ears were about to bleed from how loud the music was. My whole-body vibrating from the bass, as it shakes through the club.

The place was crowded as fuck. Bodies pushed together everywhere, there was a strong smell of sweat. Which alone made me want to gag.

How anyone finds this enjoyable is beyond me.

Standing with my best friend and coworker, Marcus, I was getting fed up. He said we were meeting some friends here. More so his friends. I'm friends with very few. The more you have, the more it seems they talk shit and back-stab you. I like to keep mine close and I'm good with my few friends.

Standing at this small ass table, waiting for who knows who and how many people, it was starting to get on my nerves.

Why say a time and not be there?

That shit pisses me off. A lot of things piss me off, it seems. Which is fucking true.

"Five more minutes, then I'm out of here," I turn to look at Marcus letting him know I'm serious. But the damn guy doesn't even hear me, and not because of the awful music that is blaring, but because he has some bitch latched to his arm and they look minutes away from fucking right here. Not surprised at all, this always happens. Not just to him either, but my scowl and 'don't fucking talk to me' vibe must be keeping the damn girls away.

Yes girls. Because real women wouldn't act this damn desperate.

And majority of them here were just that. It was easy as fuck to see it. The way they dress, with barely anything covering themselves, going from one guy to another. Flirting with them for a bit before they move onto their next target. Most do it for the free drinks. Shit, I don't know how many times Marc has paid for some bitch's drink cause she 'forgot her money'. Nice try, we all know you left your fucking wallet, so you could get the guys to buy your damn drinks. It was getting tiring honestly. But Marc bask in the attention. He is a total man whore.

All he has to do was look a girl in the eyes and they were putty, doing his bidding. With his short blond hair and blue eyes and sharp facial features, he was a catch to the ladies. They seemed to 'love' his boyish charms. At least that is what I hear. And it's hard not to hear them. It's like they have a volume button and they talk louder and louder every damn second.

Where I was the opposite to him. I had brown hair that was slightly longer on the top, I constantly ran my fingers through when I got irritated, like now. With dark grey eyes, and a scruff I have growing into a beard, the girls seemed to love the rugged look.

Smacking him on the back, maybe a little too hard, but who gives a fuck, I'm at my limit, I repeat myself to Marc. He turns his head scowling but nods anyways because he knows I would walk away this second.

He is always dragging me somewhere, especially somewhere I don't want to fucking go. No matter how many times I say no, he's like a bug that keeps on pestering you, until you eventually give in. If I hadn't known him since middle school and feel bad for his parents, I probably would have killed the guy many of times already.

Figuring I'll grab a drink instead of listening to this chicks fake laugh, I push myself through all the bodies, dodging the hands of girls everywhere, to the right side of the club where the bar is at. Asking the guy for a glass of whiskey, then changing it to a double, I feel a hand on my bicep causing me to flex. And not for that damn reason, but because someone is touching me.

Turning to my left with a scowl on my face, I bark out a 'what', to the girl on my left. This doesn't even seem to faze her, which of course it wouldnt, she's looking to sink her claws into someone.

Not happening.

Unlike Marc, I'm not a damn player. Shit, I'm still a fucking virgin. By my damn choice. And of course, Marc knows, so he is always bringing different types of chicks over, trying to get me laid. Saying once I get laid, I'll stop being a damn asshole.

Fuck that.

First of all, I'll lose it when I want to and who I want it to. And that woman will be tied to me for life. Second, I'm naturally an asshole.

Now this girl wasn't exactly ugly, but a lot of things were fake about her.

From her long nails, to her caked-up face of makeup, to even her damn tits. She had long black hair and hazel eyes that was coated with dark shit all around them. She reached up to my neck, but that was probably because of the heels she was wearing. And she was dressed as most of the chicks in here. A low-cut white top has her breasts spilling out to the point you could almost see her nipples and stops under her chest, showing off her stomach. And a skirt, that should not even be called that, as I'm pretty sure her ass is hanging out.

Why the fuck do chicks dress like this?

She's obviously single, and if she wasn't, why the fuck would her man let her dress that like. "Hey ba—," "Not interested," I cut her off, grabbing her hand, not rough but not gently either and remove it off my arm. I turn back around to grab my drink and as I move to pass her I hear her huff, muttering the word asshole as she storms off.

Thank fuck, I thought.

Walking back towards the table, I notice a lot more people there. So much for hoping they would be later, so I could finally leave. Heading towards the table slowly, dreading having to now stay, I glance at everyone surrounding the table. There were six people that came, then Marc and his chick that was still latched onto his arm, but you can see the fake blonde getting pissed as his attention wasn't on her anymore, but someone else.

I notice there was two sets of couples and two girls. Maybe they are a couple, who knows. Marc is talking to the one girl and laughing, genuinely looking happy. Not like how he is when he is getting his next conquest, so this must be one of his friends.
Looking her over, all I could think of was 'fuck, she's beautiful,' and the way she seemed to act, it was like she was oblivious to her beauty, as she didn't even notice she was attracting the attention from all the males around her.

With an hour glass figure, she was wearing a white top that was straining from her large firm breasts. The perfect size for my hands, I thought. The curves of her hips were enticing, like they were made just for me to grab and hold onto. Long slender legs were covered in blue jeans, that looked like they were painted on, made her plump round ass stand out.
Her long blonde hair flowed freely down her back, and I want to run my fingers through her thick caress to see if they were as soft as they looked. Her blue eyes, shined with happiness as she animatedly talked to Marcus, her full pink lips curved up into a smile, displaying her white straight teeth, they looked soft and pillowly. It made me want to grab and kiss her, so I could feel the softness of her plump lips against my firmer ones.

Fuck, one look at her and I want to do so many fucking dirty things to her, that I've never done.

What the fuck is wrong with me. I never, ever, think like that.

But someone like her probably has a man. She doesn't seem like the other girls, though I could be wrong, as she isn't acting like them with Marc. And we all know he could get anyone.

Her friend beside her sure as fuck is, because she is trying hard to get Marcs attention and slyly giving her friend an irritated look for having it.
She is dressed like almost every other girl here. Short dress that barely covers her ass. Tits almost falling out, a lot of make up on that I'm sure if she were to fall in a damn pool the shit would melt off and she would be a complete different person. Heels that are high as fuck, I don't know how she walks in them, because if she were to trip she'd end up snapping her damn neck.
Not wanting to waste anymore time on her, I look back at her friend, the one that has me fucked up just by looking at her.

Watching her smiling and laugh with Marcus, I want her to smile at me. Not him.

Again what the fuck is wrong with me.

It's not like they are flirting or anything, but I'm pissed he has her attention, even if she doesn't know about me yet. All of a sudden, I can't wait to get back to the table, which is the complete opposite reaction to my thoughts moments ago, and it's all because of her.

Walking swiftly back to the table, I make sure to keep my eyes on her.

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