Chapter 1

KELVIN

I usually don't come here without an invitation, but tonight I decided to make an exception. I sat in my black BMW SUV for what seemed like an eternity staring at the neon sign which flashed around the words, "THE HALL," at the entrance. I stepped out of my car and pushed the lock button on the remote absently as I left. I walked to the entrance and watched the tinted glass doors slowly slide aside, opening, as I approached. I got into the hall and the air held a stale smell of smoke and vanilla fragrance. There was a man at the entrance whose stature looked like he was carved from rock. He was dressed in all black, black t-shirt, a pair of black jean slacks and a pair of mean looking black jungle boots. His shirt could barely contain his well-defined muscles. He had a hard face surrounded by bushy beards and a bald head. He slowly sized me up. To another person he might have been considered scary but not to me. I’m taller than he is and we are similarly built, so his stares definitely couldn’t intimidate me. I held eye contact with him until he broke the stare and ushered me in.

On getting into the hall; it was hazy and crowded. RGB lights flashed and music boomed from the speakers on the walls all around. The intense combo of indistinct chatter, cheers and music from the speakers seemed to have a repelling effect that could have knocked me off my feet. The dim lighting in the club made sure I could not recognize the faces of people in it except I get closer to them.

I traced my way through the crowd to the bar which was the only place in the club with somewhat bright lights. A neon light over it read "BAR." I don't think it was necessary as the bartender was clearly visible to us all. They must really like neon lights, I thought. There were lots of apologies and half smiles as I struggled through the crowd.

I leaned on the counter and looked around, I tried to absorb the environment as best as I could. The only other illuminated areas were the cages that held exotic dancers in them. They were dressed in nothing but a pair of panties, they had shiny patches around their nipples. Not bad, I thought. They swirled around, glided up and down poles with their legs spread open. Two men, sitting next to one of the cages, did nothing but throw wads of cash at the girl in the cage in front of them. They were clearly mesmerized. The cage had a number, 1, boldly written on it. The men had several girls sitting around them, the girls laughed heartily at whatever the men said while enjoying their drinks.

I finally decided I had seen enough and turned to the bartender: a young black boy that looked below twenty but with patches of gray hairs in his mustache. I doubted the age his appearance revealed.

"What's your order?" the bartender asked.

“Me?” I asked.

He sighed. “Yes," he answered, wiping his hands with a white towel

From the exasperated looks on his face, I believe he must have asked several times. I apologized, faced him squarely and rested my arms on the counter.

"In here, try to mind your business," he said.

"Huh?" I replied. That was unexpected.

"What's your order, once again?" he asked the second time and flung the towel over his shoulder.

I thought about it for a while, I usually drink beer but since this night was a night of exceptions, I decided to try a drink I saw recently in an Italian movie. "There's this reddish cocktail that has an orange slice in it…" I said still facing him squarely. I was hoping he knew what I was asking for but he kept staring at me with a straight face. ..."I think its name starts with an N and sounds like niggani or something like that," I added and waved my hand in the air like I was shooing off a thought.

He sighed, "Do you mean Ne-Gro-Ni?" he politely asked.

"Yes, that," I answered.

As he walked away from the counter, I made myself comfortable on a bar stool and watched him. He reached for a bottle of Campari, a bottle of gin and some other drink from the wooden drink rack. He walked back to the counter and produced some items from beneath the counter; a whisky glass, a cocktail shaker set and an orange. He tapped a finger on his head and walked back to the rack. He opened a freezer, brought out a steel bucket and walked back to the counter. He placed the bucket on the counter and scooped ice from it into the whisky glass. He poured one shot of each drink he brought from the rack into the cup and dropped a slice of orange into the cocktail. He stirred it carefully and pushed it in my direction.

"Your drink sir," he said.

I took a sip: it was sweet yet bitter. I smirked, grinned and nodded.

"How is it?" he asked

"Nice," I said. To be honest, I didn't know what to expect.

I began to vibe to the rhythm of the music. For unknown reasons, it felt...awesome. I could not help myself; I was awed with the way the lights reflected off the gowns of the girls when they shake their buttocks, twist their waists or wriggle their shoulders. Nearly all the girls in the club wore shiny gowns. The way the RGB lights bounced off the glittery gowns of the girls in the club made it look like a starry sky, a very starry sky. It was crazy and amazing at the same time. I started to feel a sudden rush of endorphin. I began to shake my shoulders to the rhythm of the Amapiano music the DJ just started playing.

“First time?” he asked.

I nodded absently.

"Hey, I need a bottle of Jameson, five bottles of coke and a bucket of ice," a lady said. That broke my reverie.

"Where are you seated?" the bartender asked. "So I can send someone to get it over to you," he added.

"I'm sitting next to Cage 1 over there," the lady answered.

I hadn't noticed when she came down to the counter. From where I sat, I looked at her coolly and sized her up. She wore a fluffy feathery pink mini gown and hung a white mink muffler around her neck. The gown was parted from the top to reveal just enough cleavage, but not so much that it wasn't classy anymore. Anyone who saw her would definitely look again and she had caught my attention.

"What's the party about?" I asked.

"Who cares to know?" she answered.

"Kelvin, son of..." I refrained myself from saying anymore. It doesn't matter whose son I am.

"Son of who? A bitch or a gun?" she asked a bit harshly.

"Nah... forget about it." I turned back to my drink and took another sip.

She sighed, muttered what seemed like an apology and said her name was Shola. “I'm sitting over there," she gestured towards where she was seated. It was the same place where the two money spenders I noticed earlier were seated

"Cash or POS?" the bartender asked.

"POS," she answered.

She turned to me and said, "There's room for one more if you care to come over."

I smirked and shook my head as she walked away.

"How do you want to live your life: safely or dangerously?" the bartender asked.

I looked at him, and then I gulped down the rest of my negroni.

“How much?” I asked him.

“Two grands,” he answered.

I counted the notes and added a generous tip. Men don't get tipped enough, I thought. I handed them to him and headed in the girl's direction.

I squeezed my way through the crowd once more. Despite the modest air conditioning of the place, walking through the crowd felt like walking through a freshly burnt bush because of the sweltering heat the excited crowd generated. She was standing where the crowd wasn't so large and looking in the direction I was coming from. I was taller than most of the people in the crowd so I could see her from where I stood but I wasn’t expecting her to be waiting for me.

"This way," she mouthed when I was out of the sea of humans.

I nodded and walked towards her. I hit my leg against a low pavement and realized there was an isle leading to where her table was. I frowned.

I felt fingers close around my upper arm, pulled me from the isle and into the crowd again.

“I want to dance with you?" A deep voice said.

I turned to realize it was a woman with long braids pouring over her shoulders and almost covering her face. She looked very out of count. She was about 6 inches shorter than I am, even with her heels. She had large arms as well as a pair of boobs like two giant Pawpaw and were obviously straining to escape from her blouse which was collaged with silvery beads . I held her arms and tried to push her away. Her skin was moist and as cold as a freezer. She had a sweet, musky fragrance with the stale smell of iron. She was strong.

I shook my head. "No, thank you,” I said and tried to go around her.

She blocked me again. "We can dance now and fuck later," she insisted. "How about that?" she asked impatiently.

"It would be a pleasure, but I'll have to pass." I tried to push her off again.

"He's with someone, if you don't mind," a familiar voice said. I looked up and there was Shola standing next to me. Before I could say a word, she had her arms in mine and pulled me away.

"Oh, I see you caught a fish," the Big boobs girl said and laughed.

I turned to look at Big boobs again, a shiny object attached to her belly button caught my eyes. Her blouse was high enough to show her belly. Big boobs winked at me. "Have fun!" she screamed and bared her tongue at me. It was the longest tongue I have ever seen. I wonder how her mouth held such a length. It was like a mango leaf in a baby's mouth. Her eyes flashed in the dark and they were beautiful.

Shola led me away. The silvery pumps on her feet made clacking sounds against the black, glossy tiles of the club’s floor. The heels of her pump looked six inches high. I got a clearer view of Shola as we walked down the aisle. She wasn’t lacking flesh in her buttocks; they were big and round, and her hips didn’t lie. She would pass for Ariel in The Little Mermaid. I was impressed. I couldn’t stop myself from stealing quick glances and marvel at how her ass cheeks shook as I walked behind her.

"Are you new here?" She asked as she dragged me along the isle like a mom leading her little child.

"No," I answered. "But I'm not a regular either."

"I see," she said.

We got to her table and the first person who greeted me had one hand wrapped around a comb in his hair and the other extended for a hand shake.