We walked out of the car and cut to the front of the long line. I saw a man with his very young girlfriend, arguing with the bouncer.
"Move." I said and walked in front of him.
"Name?" The buff man asked.
"Leslie and Brooke." Brooke said. The man checked his list and opened the door to let us in.
"Have a fun night." We walked in and I heard the man argue with the guard once again. I smirked and turned to Brooke.
"Have fun, I think I'm going on my own tonight." I winked at her and walked to my favorite part of the whole club; the bar. I sat on one of the stools and called the bartender over.
"Hello, ma'am, what can I get you tonight?" He asked.
"The name's Les, I'll have a shot of vodka." I hate when people call me 'ma'am' or 'miss'. My name's Leslie, and I am not fifty years old. I do not like being called politely. I was suddenly snapped out of my ramble when I got handed my drink.
"Here you go, Les." The man winked.
"I asked for a drink, not an old, dirty, perv." He walked away, and I quickly chugged my drink. I felt the burn on the back of my throat as the liquid made its way down. I put down the glass and made my way to the dance floor. The music was pounding in my ears as I swayed my hips to the beat. Not a minute in, I felt someone's hands make their way to my hips. I quickly turned around to see that silly, tall, striped boy.
"Are you following me?" I asked with a smirk.
"How 'bout I buy you a drink?" He asked, ignoring my question. Stalker. I grabbed his hand and led him to the bar where he bought me lots of drinks.
Ten Shots Of Vodka Later...
"Let me get another one!" I slurred. By now I was drunk, I was very drunk.
"No, that's about it. Let's take you home." Louis got up and pulled me out of the bar.
"No, I'm not done yet! My people need me!" I protested. Louis kept pulling me until we reached his car.
"Where do you live, Les?" He asked me. I pointed a finger to the air and said,
"I live in the good East of UnicornLandia, on maple street lane!" He sighed and ran a hand through his brown hair.
'Stop doing that! It's too much for me to handle! Do you know how hard it is for me to stay seated and not run my hands through your hair?' I thought.
"We'll just head to my place for tonight." I turned on the radio and sang along- or at least tried to -to the music. Gosh, my hangover is not going to be good tomorrow.