Luna
My phone dings, and I pick it up off my bed to see that Olivia is on her way to pick me up. I undo my heatless curler, spritz oil on my hands, and run my fingers through my dark hair.
The curls set nicely, and I only applied mascara, blush, and cherry chapstick. There’s no point in doing more because tonight’s about having fun, not looking good.
I walk to my kitchen and open a can of wet food for Binx. He quickly comes down from his perch on the window, rubbing against my legs. “Hi, sweet boy. Are you ready for dinner?” I say as I put the food down for him, and he immediately starts devouring it. “I will take that as a strong yes.”
A knock on my door startles me, and I tiptoe over to it, peeking out the peephole. Old habits die hard, but I won’t answer the door unless I look through it, and when I do, I find Olivia in a skin-tight purple bodycon dress. I swing the door open, mouth agape. “Hello, hottie!”
“Pick your jaw off the floor, baby girl,” Olivia says with a wicked smile, pushing past me.
“Holy shit, you look good, Liv!” I say as I shut the door behind her.
“Thank you! I bought this dress last year, but I haven’t worn it yet. Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight.” She cocks her eyebrow, taking a seat on my couch.
“I’m almost ready,” I say, rushing back to my bedroom.
“No big rush. Take your time.”
I enter my closet, rifle through my dresses, and pick two that best fit the occasion.
I hold them up to the mirror on my closet door, laying them each on myself, but I can’t decide.
The first is a plain black bodycon dress I keep for ‘anytime’ wear.
The last time I wore this dress was for a funeral.
You can dress it up or down, so I wear it whenever I need a simple black dress.
I’m not looking to dress up, but a semi-funeral dress may not be the best choice.
The second option is a dark green silk wrap dress I picked up a week ago while shopping for dresses for my author event.
I’ve never worn anything like this before, and I’m not sure I can pull it off, but as soon as I saw it in the display window, I knew I had to have it.
The dress I chose for the event was at the cleaners in preparation, so I had to choose between this wrap dress and the black semi-formal dress.
Just put the fucking dress on, Luna.
I silence my insecurities and put the black dress back in my closet.
I fit the dress over my head, and here I was, worried the green dress wouldn’t fit, but it slipped on like a glove.
The dress hit all the right curves on my body, and my larger chest doesn’t feel suffocated for once. Perfectly made just for me.
I’m admiring myself until I hear Olivia clear her throat. “If you’re done telling yourself how hot you look, we have a club to get to.”
I look over my shoulder. “I thought you said no big rush?” I laugh.
“Yeah, well, I lied. Let’s go! I wanna dance!” Olivia stomps her feet like a toddler throwing a fit, but she’s all smiles and giddiness.
“Okay, okay. I’m done.” I grab my purse and slip on my only pair of black strappy heels. “Let’s go!”
Olivia squeals, and we head out the door, locking up my apartment behind me as Olivia serenades the hallway.
Olivia parks in a car park a block away from Pyre, and before we can even step out of the car, I hear thumping music from the club.
“I can’t wait for you to meet Jordyn. She’s been begging me to bring you here for weeks.
” Olivia says as we walk up the block towards the Pyre.
The music’s louder now, and I can hear the familiar beat of ‘Like a G6’ by the Far East Movement.
“I forgot it’s 90s babies night!” Olivia shouts, locking my arm with me, and we hurry the last few feet and pass the line to get in.
Olivia lets go of my arm and goes to talk to the bouncer.
I take the time to admire the club. From the outside, it looks like any other club in the city: sleek black windows line the exterior, reminiscent of those that let you see out but keep others from seeing in.
Olivia waves me over, and the bouncer picks up the red rope, letting us in and telling us to enjoy our evening.
Olivia takes me by the hand, and we walk up the stairs. The bouncer at the top opens the doors for us to enter, and I can’t stop my jaw from hitting the floor at what I’m seeing.
Inside, Pyer is nothing like I’ve ever seen before.
There are three stories; each floor is lined with gothic wrought iron banisters, the entire club is bathed in red ambient lighting, and aerial acrobats swing from the ceiling and banisters with red ribbons tied around them.
The club's main floor is on the second floor, with stairs leading up and down on either side from a wide landing that overlooks the dance floor below.
Olivia grabs my arm, trying to tell me something, but the music’s too loud. She gestures with her hands, indicating we need to go upstairs. I nod, letting her take the lead.
Olivia pushes us up the stairs through the crowd until we reach the third floor. She takes me to another door guarded by a bouncer, and he greets her with a smile.
“Jimmy, this is my friend, Luna!” Olivia shouts over the music. It’s a bit quieter up here, but not by much.
“You here to see Jordyn?” Jimmy asks. Olivia nods, and he steps to the side, opening the door for us. “She’s in her office. Just knock on the door at the end of the hall.”
“Thank you,” I say as I walk through the threshold behind Olivia.
“No problem, “Jimmy says, closing the door behind us. Once the door closes, the loud music stops and gives way to a low hum, and I feel like a newborn baby hearing things for the first time.
Olivia practically races to the end of the short hallway and knocks loudly on the heavy black door. “Oh, Jordyn! I have a surprise for you!”
“Come in!” Jordyn shouts through the door.
Olivia swings the door open, springing into her room, arms out, “Ta-da! May I present my bestie, Luna Stirling!”
Jordyn jumps out of her chair and squeals, “No way! Oh my gosh!”
I walk into her office, hand outstretched, “Hi! It’s nice to meet you!”
“Fuck a handshake, I need to hug you!” Jordyn says as she crosses the small room and crashes into me.
“Oh! Okay!” I laugh nervously, loosely wrapping my arms around her.
Jordyn pulls back, holding my shoulders, “Vera’s Vengeance is a masterpiece. I hope you know that.” Jordyn is quite striking: with her long brown hair, honey-colored eyes, and tanned, freckled skin, she has to be my age or a little older. Old enough to own a successful nightclub.
“Oh, I don’t know about that, but thank you. I appreciate it.” I laughed nervously once again. Jordyn’s intense, but in a friendly, overbearing way.
“No, seriously. My Coven read it, and we all fell in love. It’s such a raw and beautiful way to frame feminine rage.
Vera isn’t this psychopathic serial killer she’s made out to be.
She kills for a purpose and doesn’t harm innocents in her pursuit of justice.
She’s a vigilante, a woman scorned. And that’s pure genius! ”
I stare in awe. “Wow. T–thank you.” I blink back tears and swallow hard.
When I started writing, I didn’t think anyone would read my books, so hearing Jordyn say such nice things has me a bit choked up.
“No, thank you! And welcome to my nightclub! You're welcome here anytime you’d like. If you’re looking for a Coven to join, I happen to run a gathering here on Monday nights. You should come sometime. No blood sacrifices needed,” Jordyn laughed.
“Way to lay it on thick, Jordyn.” Olivia snorts.
“Sorry. I tend to word-vomit when I’m excited.” Jordyn lets go of my arms and backs away. “I would still love to have you come by.”
“Thank you. I’d love to check it out sometime. I’m new to the area and would love to find a community. I thrive on human connection, which I have been severely lacking in the past few years,” I admit sheepishly.
“Well, then it’s settled. Come by on Monday night.
I won’t tell the rest of the Coven you’re coming in case something comes up and you’re unable to make it…
But I know they would be thrilled to see you, too.
” Jordyn smiles, “Now, out of my office, go party and have fun! Drinks on me. Tell Tiffany at the dancefloor bar that I sent you for house drinks, and tell Charlie at the host stand that Jordyn told you to call Bessie if you need an Uber home. Bessie is the code word for my friends. Use it anytime you need.” Jordyn walks us to the main door, and when she opens it, I’m immediately reminded we’re in a nightclub.
T-Pain's remixed version of “Buy U a Drank” booms through the club, and the entire place erupts into cheers.
The song unfortunately reminds me of my early twenties when I worked at Dollies, dancing for men for money—some of the most disgusting men you could ever meet walked those halls—and I was forced to dance for them all.
While I worked at Dollies, I created a list of men I would kill if given the chance.
Being a dancer, we’re forced to hear all these men’s desires, no matter how fucked up they were.
Sometimes they would confess to crimes they had committed, hoping to impress one of us and be taken back for a private dance.
I hated myself so much, but I couldn’t do anything about it, or I wouldn’t have made it out.
So I decided to keep a list. Those stories live in the pages of my books now, and they all get brutally murdered in the end, and their victims get swift justice.
Of course, I changed all of their names, but I remember them.
Every. Last. One.
We finally reach the bottom of the stairs, and Olivia makes a beeline for the bar, making me laugh harder at her urgency.
Olivia reappears as fast as she’s left but returns with a drink. “It’s called the Witches Brew. It’s blueberry vodka, lemonade, a splash of lemon-lime soda, and some Lux Dust,” she says, handing it to me.