Charis
Hundreds of them were grinding and swaying under the electric haze. Their bodies wirthed under the pulse of the beat, each of them held drinks in their hands, swaying as if they were being controlled.
I felt both relieved and anxious at the same time.
I weaved through the dancers, elbowing my way through threes and weaving between couples while my eyes searched every dark corner for an exit sign. The flashing lights and loud music were disorienting, making it hard to maintain my sense of direction.
Suddenly, a burly hand clamped down on my shoulder. I spun around to see a huge man looming behind me—one of the security guards from the VIP room. My blood turned cold as I spotted three more men of similar build pushing through the crowd toward me.
"Shit!" I breathed.
The first man lunged for me, but I dodged left, my heart thudding wildly as I ducked beneath his arm and shoved myself into the dancing crowd. This time I didn't wait to be told I had to run.
