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| Alana D'Agostino |
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| Frederic Seers |
As usual, Alana D'Agostino was looking devastatingly beautiful as she confidently strode into the club, crack of stilettos muffled by the loud music. Pausing for a moment, she raised an eyebrow in interest and amusement at the spectacle before her: chains of fake-tanned queens ran giggling in a sort of circuit between the dancefloor and the bar desperately clutching their alcopops, while angry-looking dykes huddled at tables over their pints of beer. Perfect.
Glancing into one of the many long mirrors that covered the walls, she vainly appraised her own appearance. Standing straight, she ran her fingers through her tousled, blonde hair which hung past her shoulders in loose curls. Shamelessly readjusting her breasts for maximum effect, she finally winked at her reflection and headed over to the crowded bar, which surprisingly seemed to open up and let her in.
"Two tequila shots, honey."
With a quick hand in her purse, she handed a platinum card over the counter, with the name "Ethan D'Agostino" glinting in the club lights across the middle.
"Actually, make that four." She added as an afterthought. She'd be needing them.
For Frederick, it had been a long night so far. A short, but very, very long night. It seemed the moment he had a drink in his hand the men around him felt the need to grind against each leg every time he took a step forward. With the gentlest of smiles and an even softer push he was able to slide through the sweating crowd of dancers, trying not to allow the contact he made with them to be misinterpreted as an invitation of any sort; as so often they were.
He slunk his way back to the bar, his shirt now missing half its buttons due to a fat man wearing a wig taking his lustful urges a step too far. Luckily Frederick's good looks were enough to excuse him for the snarl he gave in return: very few people noticed and those that did acted further aroused by it. He sighed, downed the rest of his drink, and ordered another. By this point so many greasy old men had bought him drinks that he could simply ask for "Another" and the barman would know exactly what to do. He took his suspiciously bright coloured drink and began to drink that, too.
It must have been his sixth, but he didn't even feel slightly drunk. What was he even drinking? he looked around the bar, bemused, to ask the waiter, who was pouring an attractive girl nearby a shot. He promptly slid across the bar and took the seat next to her.
"Hey" he said, "What are you drinking?"
After downing two of the shots, suppressing the urge to wince at the putrid taste of the golden liquid, she turned her head as she heard a voice mumbling by her right ear. Instinctively flicking her hair and smiling seductively at the guy next to her - who was positively dripping suicide all over the bar - she spoke, making sure to make it slightly louder to make sure he heard it. "Oh cheer up, Mr. Suicide, life could be worse!" She gestured widely towards the grumpy looking lesbians glowering in her direction. "You could be one of them."
Frederick blinked twice at the sudden waft of alcohol rich air pouring in his direction. She didn't look drunk, but her breath smelled like it was wasted. "I'm guessing its Tequila, then" he said, with a wry smile. "And you can call me Freddy, lest I become like our rugged friends over there." He took a sip of the bright liquid in his glass again, paused for a moment and added "What's your name?".
As Depressive-guy looked round at her she couldn't help but look surprised. She hadn't actually expected him to be anything more than a 4 to her standards, but so far he was easily pushing 9. Falling into instant-flirt mode, she extended a slender arm in his direction, "Alana, Alana D'Agostino." Smirking slightly at the James Bond sound, she covered it up by using an old phrase she knew. "So beautiful they named me twice... or so my mother would say." Giving a coy smile she looked down at her remaining two tequila shots contemplatively.
Hell, Alana, are you flirting with a guy in a gay bar?
Yes, but he's a hot guy in a gay bar, and I'm pretty sure there's no guy I can't have.
Alana. Gay bar.
That's completely superfluous to my aims, goals and abilities.
He probably thinks - Ethan - is more attractive than you. Because he's MALE. GAY bar, Alana.
You know, this is MY inner dialogue-
Frederick nonchalantly pulled his fringe to the side as it slid in front of his face, letting his eyes sparkle at the girl, Alana, in front of him. He was always told by his mother to beware of gay people, that you could notice and avoid them simply by the sparkle in their eyes. Frederick had mastered that sparkle, and, all too often, used it to his advantage.
"Well, Alana, I think your name's very fitting. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman." He took a sip of his drink again, looking thoughtfully into her smiling face as he did so. She was checking him out... and hey, maybe having a shot at a woman for once might be fun.
The sparkle. She noticed it, executed with perfection. The sparkle was the ultimate flirting technique, that could be used to enthrall any male you wanted in mere seconds. She knew it well, because she used it often herself. The only problem, was that she knew it to only work on guys, and last time she checked she had two beautiful breasts and a distinct lack of penis. At least she knew he was interested, though.
Told you.
Shut up, he could just be being friendly.
He sparkled!
Oh for god's sake this is not Twilight, Alana, you know, people don't just spar-
He sparkled at me, and that is final.
Fine, have it your way... just don't come moaning to me...
"Why thanks, honey... so," she hesitated a moment. "What brings you to a place like..." She paused and took in her surroundings once more, "... this? Blackstone, right?" Smile. Add Sparkle. Brilliant.
Her eyes were glistening. The sparkle, she could do it too. Freddy felt a half hearted reaction from his trousers, 'Oh, please, let's not pretend.' he thought, forcing it to give up entirely. "Yeh, I've been here for about a year. Never got out much until recently, though." He let his words linger for a moment and leant in closer, moving his arm closer towards hers on the bar, "And I'm in the mood for excitement." He didn't like to lead girls on, but boredom was boredom. And he would be proud to say he'd been with a girl like 'Alana De...whatever'.
She recognised the twinkle in his eye and the playful grin on his face and she mirrored it perfectly, "Well what a coincidence - so am I." It was a gay club, and she was waiting on her unsuspecting and naive brother, but Alana was pretty sure she could have some fun in the meantime. Noticing his extended arm, she clasped at it with her slender fingers, used her other hand to down the remaining shots and dragged this complete random to the dancefloor. "Come on, we're going to get some excitement." With a quick wink, she was striding confidently through the crowd with him stumbling along behind.
Slightly shocked by the girl's sudden action, Frederick was almost swept off his feet, dragged into the middle of the dance floor by her careful iron grasp. Her hair shone in the lights, which flowed across the dancers, bouncing over her shoulders as she span into the middle. A smile spread across his face as she began to dance; there was something about the way she moved her body that enticed him. Holding back the urge to dance like a woman right back at her, he put on his 'man mode', shuffled to her side and moved in as masculine a way as possible to the beat, making sure not to overdo it.
Releasing her vice-like grip on his arm, Alana started dancing to the music and she was instantly in her flirting forté. Her body moved with perfect fluidity perfected through many years of underage clubbing. As she threw her hands into the air ecstatically after a pause in the music she let out a huge shout, "RIVERSIDE, MUTHA'FUCKA'!!"
Almost jumping into the air with joy at the music she opened her eyes to look across at this - what was it? - Boderick or whatever. He could clearly dance, and was clearly in shape, as far as her piercing glare could tell; however, could he keep it up dancing with her? Edging along carefully in her huge heels, she moved closer to him, dancing smoothly all the time until she was brushing up against his chest. She stared defiantly, but cheekily, straight into his eyes gauging his reaction. She'd soon find out if he was straight.
For Frederick, the girl was getting uncomfortably close to him; but he felt he had to feign a genuine interest if he wanted the night to be anywhere near interesting. He'd gone through enough lonely nights and, worse, more than his fair share of one night stands with men in their late thirties. He made sure they stayed as close as they could, keeping her head near his chest as they danced, synchronising their movements into an undulating, rhythmic pulse. She was looking into his eyes as they danced, which, as far as he knew, meant she wanted to kiss him. He slowed his movements, trying to judge her reaction as he did so, and reached a hand to her arm, looking back into her eyes. Everyone was dancing around them, but time blurred for a moment, and he moved in carefully towards her.
"Let's play a love game, play a love game love game~ ♫"
They were in the game. Undignified numbers of nights spent wasted and had taught her how to pull the royal flush of flirting. And if she didn't have the cards? Well, no one could read her poker face anyway. She spotted him leaning in close a mile off, but held her ground, waiting until the last minute as he closed his eyes before she would cheekily pause for a moment, making him panic.
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