A different kind of music

ROSALINA'S POV

Leo's hand possessively held my waist as he led us to the crowded bar. My last experience with this club had been traumatizing, but I felt a hundred times safer with Leo by my side. I mean, what could go wrong with a man who looked like he could bench-press the DJ booth?

As we waded through the ocean of partygoers, a wide variety of dance moves were on display. It was like watching a nature documentary about mating rituals, except with more neon lights and less David Attenborough commentary. Then there was the girl whose twerking skills could probably power a small generator. It was a dance floor zoo, and I was a curious observer.

We finally reached the bar, and Leo, the gentleman that he was, leaned in close to ask, "What can I get you to drink, babe?"

I glanced at the bartender, who furiously shook a cocktail shaker like it owed him money. The options seemed endless. "Martini," I shouted over the blaring music.

He ordered our drinks, and it wasn't long before the ba