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“Uhhhh, I’ll take the stairs.”
He hesitates, his weird persona clearly not used to statements like this. “Um… sir, I’m sorry, but you must take the elevator.”
“Well, I don’t want to take the elevator, I want to take the stairs.”
He seems a little uncertain as he waves at the elevator again like he’s only been given two things he’s allowed to do with his shiny white gloves and that’s to wave my ass in and press a button.
“There are no stairs,” he says.
“Well, that sounds like a fire hazard. Maybe I should report that to the local fire station.”
He stares at me with more hand waving going on. I feel like he’s trying to convey the part where if I mention this weird club to anyone, someone’s going to off me. I kind of feel like someone always wants to off me, so the threat kind of sucks.
“If you want to join us, you must get in the elevator.”
“This a scam? This feels like a scam. You trying to sell something? Is that why you guys keep pestering me with this stuff?” I ask. “Like get the hint. It’s nine o’clock and I already feel like I’m out too late.”
“This is a luxury,” he says, sounding kind of offended now. “Only the elite are… I’ve said too much.”
“You sure have… are they going to off you now?” I ask, like I’m honestly concerned. “Ooh. DoIget to off you?”
He’s glowering at me now, which I feel like is mildly unfair, but I take a deep breath and step into the elevator. He seems pleased as he hurries in, and I give him the stupid code. The moment the doors close, I grab onto the handrail in the elevator as a tightness surrounds my throat. It’s like a hand has wrapped around it and is slowly closing.
I can hear the man saying something, rattling off something that I surely don’t care about as that hand tightens and tightens until the doors open and I lunge out before drawing to a stop.
Finally, I can breathe again, but what now? What have I done? Now I have to go up the goddamn elevator to get out. Or maybe I’ll have to live here…
My eyes scan across the people moving around, and I feel extremely out of place in my hoodie and skinny jeans. There’s music and people milling about and literally everything I hate dealing with… and to top it all off, there’s Kade sitting at the bar.
He’s clearly got Spidey senses or something because he seems to notice me the moment I step out of the elevator. I try to pretend like I wasn’t on the verge of suffocating as I strut up to the bar and wave the bartender down.
“What can I get you, gorgeous?” the woman asks.
“Absolutely nothing, thank you. Can I talk to the boss of this place or whatever and tell him to fuck off, and that I don’t want to come here and join his… gang or speakeasy or whatever this place is, and to stop sending me these stupid letters.” I hand her the letter addressed to me so she can tell them who I am.
She seems surprised as she stares at me. “You… you don’t want to come here?”
“No, thank you… unless you guys ever have like aSmash Bros.tournament?”
“I’ll suggest that for next time,” she says. “But I can pass along your request.”
“I like you. Anyway. See ya.”
I turn andreallycatch Kade’s eyes then grimace when I see how black the one is. “Wow, that looks painful. What happened?”
Kade glowers at me. “You know what happened.”
“Oh nooo. So saaad.”
He gets up, his chair scooting back as he comes toward me.
“I’m pretty sure the little dorky invite said no fighting,” I say.
“I’m going to follow you out of here, andthenI’m going to kick your ass,” he decides.
I make a show of shuddering. “I’m just… thinking about how embarrassing that’ll be for you and kind of feel bad.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “I wish you the best in your misery.”
He has some phenomenal restraint as he stares at me. “I… cannot explain using words to convey how much I dislike you.”
