Downtown
Chapter 61
Sophia
"Sophia, tell me again what exactly our mission is?" Maria mumbles beside me.
I cut the engine, pulling the car into an empty parking spot. "I want to know what he's up to," I tell her flatly. "Besides, since when do you ditch a party?"
"It's not that, but..." She stares out the window into the gloom, her shoulders visibly tense. "Downtown parties are a whole different level."
Before she can back out, I pop my door open, stepping into the biting night air. A cold wind sweeps in from the open sea to the north, carrying the scent of salt and damp pavement, chilling the dark stone buildings around us.
It had taken Maria ten minutes to figure out which party Ben had been bragging about. It took another five minutes for me to convince her to drive down here with me.
If Lorenzo wants to be with me, he has to open up about everything. I cannot be with a guy who isn't honest.
Not again.
So, I called Maria, she called her friends, and now here we are. If everything in life went that fast and easy, things would be a lot simpler.
"Let's just find out what they're up to," I say, tugging at the hem of my black shorts. They are way too short for my taste, riding up my thighs, but Maria had insisted we adapt to the 'downtown look.'
Whatever the hell that means.
"Okay," she finally sighs, her heels clicking sharply against the asphalt as she walks around the hood of the car to join me.
I look around the deserted, shadowy street, a knot forming in my stomach.
"Are you sure we're in the right place?"
There is absolutely nothing here. Just a row of scary, abandoned old buildings and the pitch-black road we just drove down.
Maria looks just as terrified as I feel, the blue light of her phone screen illuminating her worried eyes. "According to my friends, it has to be here."
"Let's just see what's behind that building over there," I suggest, gently nudging Maria forward.
"Oh, wow. Can you feel that?" Maria stops dead in her tracks.
A muffled, rhythmic bass vibrated right through the soles of our shoes, humming against the pavement. I scanned the massive structure, but the concrete walls were solid. "I don't see an entrance anywhere."
Why would anyone throw a party in a decrepit, decaying place like this? It didn't fit Weststar's style at all. I expected something sleek, not this.
"Omg, yes! Over here!" Maria's scream cut through my thoughts from a few yards ahead. She waved me over frantically. "Look at the picture!" She thrust her phone toward my face, showing a message from her friend.
The screen displayed the exact same abandoned, oval concrete structure we were staring at. It stood like a gray fortress in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but the crumbling ruins of buckled asphalt.
"It looks like a parking garage ramp," I muttered, looking from the screen to the massive, sweeping concrete loops above us.
"Yes! Oh my god, I remember now," Maria said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "It was all over the news. The police shut this place down after a terrible accident."
My heart skipped a beat. A cold knot formed in my stomach. Maybe coming here was a stupid idea. "What kind of accident?"
"This place used to be a massive underground party hub. But, you know, dark stuff happened here. Heavy drugs, illegal deals." She guided me closer toward the dark mouth of the ramp. "It was the main meeting spot for the downtown crowd."
"Downtown?"
"Yeah. Like Santos's gang."
"And what happened?" I pressed.
"One of the concrete blocks collapsed," she whispered, glancing up at the overhead tiers. "It buried a dozen people alive. That's why the city condemned it."
I swallowed hard, holding my breath. The bass notes under our feet grew louder now, a heavy, physical thudding that rattled my ribcage.
"But that happened further west," Maria added quickly, noticing the color drain from my face. "Not at this specific entrance. The one over there."
I nodded, taking one deep, steadying breath before following her. We stepped past the threshold and into a cavernous, freezing concrete hall.
"There," I whispered, pointing to the right.
A long line of people snaked toward a glowing, neon entrance sign. Further down the dim hall, the crowd waited anxiously for a set of industrial elevators to arrive. Guarding the doors were four massive bouncers standing in a rigid line, strictly profiling everyone who tried to pass.
"Shit, I forgot my ID," I panicked, frantically clawing through my bag.
Maria caught my wrist, stopping my frantic searching. She gave me a calm, knowing look. "Don't worry. We won't need them."
"Why?" I asked, confused. I stepped slightly to the side to peek around her. The four men were absolutely checking IDs and patting people down.
"Because we look like this," she said simply. She gestured with her hands down the front of her skimpy outfit.
Understanding hit me like a physical blow. Oh. That was why she had insisted we dress this way.
My stomach twisted into a sick, tight knot at the sudden realization. They were going to let us through without a second glance because we were wearing next to nothing.
Just gross, predatory men looking for typical targets.
Disgusting.
"Just hide your phone if you want to keep it," Maria whispers and I watch her slide her phone deep into the side of her leather boot.
I nod, my fingers trembling slightly as I tuck my own phone into my shoe. Taking a heavy breath, and try to calm my racing mind. We stand in the dim concrete hall for fifteen agonizing minutes, watching the line ahead of us slowly shrink.
Finally, it is our turn.
I instantly hold my breath. When one of the massive bouncers looks down, his eyes lingering heavily over my body before a creepy grin spreads across his face. He steps closer, invading my personal space. In my mind, my hand is already inside my bag, ready to grip my pepper spray.
"Any cameras,drinks, weapons or phones?" he asks, his voice flat and cold.
I shake my head quickly. But he does not look convinced. And points a thick finger at my purse, gesturing for me to open it. I unzip the bag, hoping he won't look too closely.
"This isn't allowed," he mutters. His hand dives inside and pulls out my canister of pepper spray.
Shit
Before I can protest, he tosses it carelessly into a nearby trash can.
When I quickly glance to the bin, I see dozens of phones, alcohol bottles, and random personal stuff.
But before I can look any closer, he grabs my shoulder, pushing me roughly forward through the heavy steel doors of the open elevator.
He leans in as the doors begin to slide shut, his grin widening.
"Enjoy, Baby."
The metal doors slam shut, cutting off the draft of the cold hall.
"Maria, I'm really not sure anymore if this was a good idea," I admit, my voice shaking.
I wait for the elevator to move, but instead of going up, it drops. My stomach lurches as we plunge downward. It sinks past one floor, then another, descending deeper and deeper into the earth. The air inside the small metal box grows thick and warm.
"Me neither," Maria admits. Her tough facade cracks, and she reaches out, squeezing my hand tight.
"James would kill us if he knew where we are," she whispers, and I nod in agreement.
Suddenly, the elevator comes to a sudden halt with a loud, mechanical screech that vibrates through the metal walls, followed by the heavy doors groaning open behind us.
"Oh."
"My."
"Gosh," we finish each other's sentences as we take in the scene. If I thought the warehouse parties or the yard parties were overwhelming, nothing prepared me for this.
The moment the elevator doors part, a thick blast of fog hits us. The deafening, rhythmic thunder of the bass rattles my chest, and a heavy mix of stale alcohol and pungent, skunky smoke fills my nose.
Everywhere I look, packed crowds of people dance in a frenzy. The DJ booth sits on a raised platform, built directly into stone walls covered from top to bottom in neon graffiti.
"This is so..." I struggle, searching for the right words.
"Dirty," Maria finishes beside me, instantly ducking away as a sweaty guy stumbles too close to her. "And it smells bad." She whines, clutching her expensive Chanel bag tight against her chest.
"What are they doing here?" I wonder out loud. We walk past a group of people slumped on the concrete floor, smoking something that smells strongly of weed.
"What are we doing here?" she screams over the pulsing music.
"I want to find out what Lorenzo is doing here!" I yell back honestly, my eyes scanning the chaotic crowd. But he is nowhere to be seen.
"So what after hooking up with the bad boy you are in love?"
I stop in my tracks and turn to her. "What , It's not like that... I just want...I need to know what the four are up to. You know, know your enemy's darkest secrets."
I reach out, grabbing two red plastic cups filled with a strange, sour smelling liquid from a passing tray. I hold one out to her. "So let's just pretend that we belong here!" I shout, pulling her by the wrist into the crowd.
Pretending is my best superpower anyway, so it can't be that hard.
"Hey!"
A high-pitched voice makes us spin around. We face a girl with bright, electric purple hair and tattoos covering her arms. She smiles warmly at us. "You're new," she says, her eyes traveling down our skimpy outfits.
"Yes, hi. And you are...?" Maria raises a skeptical brow beside me.
"Let me guess...Weststar girls," the girl continues, completely ignoring Maria's question. She points toward two massive ballot boxes standing on elevated podiums in the dead center of the hall. "Don't forget to vote!" she screams over the thumping bass.
Maria and I exchange a baffled look. "What are they voting for?" I shout back, pointing at the long line of people tossing paper slips into the slots.