Chapter Eight #5
“No, I’m not feeling it.” Rus continued eyeing the dance floor, scoping out the club, and analyzing every single person that made their way by them.
It made a pit of regret sink into Kaiden’s stomach. Maybe this was a bad idea. Dragging them out to Himbos so he could prove that he could have a fun time. Meanwhile, it left Rus and Dylan playing bodyguards all night on his behalf.
“You know, Dylan doesn’t drink,” Kaiden explained. “But you’re welcome to drink. Please, please, please, do not keep your wits about you on my behalf. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”
Kaiden didn’t know exactly how much he believed his own words, but he did know he didn’t want to give control over to what had happened last time.
More than anything, Kaiden wanted to bury that memory, bury it deep and pretend it’d never happened.
He also wanted to stay vigilant on his own behalf.
After last time, Kaiden wouldn’t walk into something foolish.
He wouldn’t require protection because he wouldn’t make that mistake.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” Rus finally said.
Kaiden scoffed. “You’re impossible.”
He most certainly wasn’t drinking. It made his inhibitions too loose, and he couldn’t chance that.
Gah, the guilt ate away at Kaiden, the way he perpetually blamed himself for what had happened instead of directing that blame on his attackers.
The self-loathing and regret he had for dragging his friends out tonight.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” Kaiden said, raising a hand to stop Dylan, who moved like he was about to follow. “Alone.”
Well, as alone as anyone could get inside a crammed club urinal. After washing his hands, he noticed a guy making eye contact with him. Kaiden averted his eyes and speed-walked out of the bathroom and back toward the bar, where Rus and Dylan were propped up.
“Hey,” the guy from the bathroom grabbed Kaiden by the arm. “Quick question.”
“What the fuck?” Kaiden jerked away.
“Sorry, man, uh, I was trying to ask you a question about your outfit.”
“Huh?” Kaiden’s heart hammered in his chest.
“Yeah, the corset. It’s really cool. Just wondering where someone gets a guy’s version like that.”
“Oh, yeah. It’s a corset vest. They’re mostly custom.” Kaiden pulled up his phone, showing some of the websites he used. “You’ll need to do really close measurements, though. Like precise.”
“Okay, okay, very cool.” The guy nodded. “Shit, they’re pricey.”
“Very, but worth it. Plus, once you have a few, you can make adjustments and tweaks to change up their looks without buying a whole new outfit. It’s not as hard to customize them as you might think.”
The guy stuck around, asking more questions. Well, shouting them mostly until the drag performance wrapped up and the music settled for a beat. During that lull, the guy moved in closer, and it seemed much of the crowd drifted deeper onto the dance floor.
“You wanna head out there?”
“Huh? Um…” Kaiden cleared his throat.
“To dance?”
“Actually, um, well, you see…”
“Get lost?” Rus seemingly materialized out of thin air, hand back to the small of Kaiden’s back.
“Sidetracked,” Kaiden replied, taking an easy breath.
As the guy who’d stopped Kaiden a moment ago went to introduce himself to Rus, he found himself abandoned with silence. Rus turned away, ushering Kaiden alongside him, and returning to the bar where they’d sit and watch the night unfold without actually participating.
Kaiden was completely fine with that turn of events and rather envied Rus’ ability to dismiss another person without second-guessing their feelings.
Chances were, Kaiden would’ve continued the conversation for the rest of the night just to be polite.
He might’ve even reluctantly stepped out onto the dance floor.
Okay, probably not. Usually, he didn’t care how bad his moves were, but right now, every little thing made him question himself, his decisions, his everything.
“Okay, we came here to party,” Dylan shouted over the music. “Let’s go be himbos for a night. No booze required for a good time.”
Without asking for permission, Dylan grabbed Kaiden and Rus by their wrists and dragged them onto the dance floor. Yep. One of the rarities in the world that could make Kaiden dance—Dylan’s persistence.
Kaiden could attempt to protest, to explain for the thousandth time how dancing made him feel awkward, but Dylan seemed determined to wash away Kaiden’s anxiety.
What better way to distract from his discomfort than by giving him something different to cringe about?
Kaiden followed Dylan’s lead, shaking away his nervousness, ignoring his own lack of rhythm, and laughing loudly at Rus’ terrible routine.
It was the kind of dance that was so bad it almost looped back around to incredibly cool.
Dylan took hold of Kaiden’s hips, guiding the sway of their bodies and forcing him to step with purpose.
It wouldn’t stick. Dylan had worked with Kaiden on his dance moves time and time again.
Still, Kaiden let loose and followed Dylan’s lead, jumping between him and Rus whenever one of Rus’ bizarre routines actually made room for a partner.
Finally, for a few songs, Kaiden lost himself to the motion and the crowd.
It was too loud to overthink. It was perfect.
He danced away his stress, lost between Dylan and Rus, the two men who’d become pillars in his life.
Both of them held him up the past six weeks, kept his head above water, and provided the support he needed to escape the pain eating away at him.
Kaiden didn’t face his trauma head-on, preferring to bury it, avoid it, ignore it. And while that might not have been the best solution, it was the path he needed to follow right now.
Dylan and Rus didn’t force Kaiden to confront his pain; they just helped him dance it out. They provided him with a safe space and solace. They were the best part of Kaiden’s life.