Today is our night out at the club after Friday evening. Things between us have started to improve, and the tension is slowly fading. Rebel Girl is back to her cheerful, lively self, always on the hunt for fun. Her eyes sparkle with excitement, and I can feel her energy rubbing off on me, filling me with optimism.
We both dress in red. Katrin says the color will chase away bad thoughts and bring good emotions. She wears a light red knee-length dress with a flowing skirt and a semi-transparent train, paired with red heels. She looks stunning, and I can't take my eyes off her. I'm in dark maroon pants and a red shirt with a blazer. I'm surprised by her choice, but not wanting to ruin her mood—which has been rare lately—I agree to dress as she wants.
We walk to the club and step inside. Unsurprisingly, my first thought is, "It's just a club." They don't excite me anymore; the "wow" factor is long gone. But seeing Katrin glowing with anticipation, I can't help but smile. Her joy is contagious.
"Where do we start? You're not a newbie anymore, so the choice is yours," she looks at me with a slight smile, waiting. I glance around and spot the tables with couches.
"Let's sit there, order some drinks and snacks, and then hit the dance floor. Missed dancing with me?" I wink at her, trying to sound playful. I want her to feel that I'm excited for the evening too, even if clubs don't thrill me anymore.
"Of course. I told you I only want to dance with you," Katrin is radiant with happiness, and I can feel her joy filling me up.
"I'm in the mood to dance all night, so I promise there'll be plenty of it," I want this evening to be special for her.
"Alright, let's go, dancer!" She takes my arm, and we head to the table.
"What are we drinking?" I sit down beside her.
"The alcohol list here isn't bad," she starts browsing the menu.
"You order. I don't care what we drink. And you know I don't know much about alcohol. At least not yet."
"I'll have to teach you everything! Alright, I'll show you another time. For now, just remember the taste and the effect of what you're drinking."
Katrin points to the drinks she's chosen for us.
"Alright, I'll go order. While I'm still sober, maybe I'll remember the names of what's going to make me feel terrible tomorrow," I joke, standing up from the table.
"Don't worry, I won't leave you alone. We'll feel terrible together tomorrow."
"Wow, that's so reassuring."
I walk up to the bar. The place is crowded, and a long line has formed for orders. As I wait, a girl with white hair approaches me. It's clear her hair is dyed, as her roots are showing. I've never seen her before.
"Hello," she gives me a light, almost mysterious smile. Her voice is casual, but there's a flicker of hidden interest in her eyes, as if she knows more than she lets on.
"Hi," I reply, keeping my emotions in check.
Strangers who flirt always put me on edge, especially ones like her—confident, bold, playing with words as if following a script.
"I'm Marinka. And you, handsome?" Her voice grows softer, almost savoring each word, deliberately drawing out the conversation. There's a hint of teasing amusement in the corners of her eyes, as if she already knows how I'll react.
I narrow my eyes, sizing her up. What does she want? Entertainment? A reaction that will sting? Or just any reaction at all?
"Max," I say curtly, keeping my distance.
No hint of irritation, no trace of interest. Restraint is my trump card in situations like this.
"Nice to meet you, Maxik," she says with a slight smirk, savoring my name. I notice her lips twitch, as if testing my boundaries. She doesn't add anything else, just tilts her head, studying me.
"Just Max," I snort, feeling a flicker of irritation rise in my chest. Her familiar tone is getting on my nerves, and I can feel her starting to annoy me.
"So, what kind of girls do you like, Just Max?" she challenges, playing this game, wanting to see how far she can push.
"Ones with natural hair color," I toss back after a pause, watching as her smile falters for a moment before returning, even more enigmatic.
At that moment, it's my turn to order. I turn away, grab the drinks and snacks, and without looking back, head to my Rebel Girl.
At the table, I'm met with Katrin's wary gaze. She sits there, her brows slightly furrowed, her fingers nervously tapping the edge of her glass. There's a tense curiosity in her eyes.
"Who was that?"
I raise an eyebrow in surprise.
"Where?" I glance around but don't see anyone nearby.
I silently arrange the shot glasses and start pouring the alcohol, but I can feel Katrin's eyes on me. Her intense gaze burns hotter than any question.
"The one you were talking to. The blonde," this time, a slight edge creeps into her voice.
I sigh and shrug.
"I don't know. But she definitely wanted to get to know me," I reply calmly, trying to sound neutral, but Katrin narrows her eyes, her fingers tightening around her glass.
"Was she flirting with you? What did you say?" she presses, her voice tense, tinged with a hint of jealousy. I look at her and smirk.
"Probably. But I shut her down right away. Why would I bother with her when I have you?"
Katrin freezes for a moment, as if she can't believe what she's just heard. Her lips twitch, and a faint blush spreads across her cheeks. She looks away, but I notice the corners of her mouth lifting slightly. It seems she's jealous, and I like that.
We sit at the table, enjoying the moment, and the tension finally dissipates. I take off my blazer and drape it over the back of the couch.
"Let's drink to friendship—we haven't done that yet," I decide to change the subject. I want this evening to be special for her, a chance for us to forget all our problems and just enjoy the moment.
"I'm all for it!" Her eyes sparkle with excitement. We reach out to each other, shot glasses in hand, link arms, and drink. Then we take a bite of our snacks and repeat the process a few more times. After the third round, we're lost in each other, kissing passionately. Her lips are soft and warm, her breath mingling with mine. In that moment, the world disappears—it's just the two of us.
"You promised me dancing," she stands up and holds out her hand to me.
I take it and follow her to the dance floor. This time, I feel confident, unlike our first dance when I'd been nervous. The alcohol helps me relax, but it isn't necessary anymore.
"Baby, have you ever danced the tango?" I whisper in her ear, feeling her breath quicken.
"No, Max, I've never danced like that. I don't know how," my Katrin admits, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
"But I do. Want to give it a try?" I offer, hoping she'll feel that I'm always there to support her, even if she isn't sure of herself.
"I do, but…" she begins, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
"What is it, my Rebel Girl?" I look at her with a soft smile.
"I don't think we'll have enough space here. You need a lot of room for that, and it's too crowded."
"Don't worry, I'll handle it," I take her hand and lead her to the center of the dance floor. I can feel her fingers trembling slightly, but I squeeze her hand tightly, letting her feel my support.
"Excuse me, could you all please step back? Thank you so much for understanding. Please don't get too close to us," I begin gently pushing people aside, creating an empty circle around us.
"Let's light it up tonight, my love!"
"With you, I'm ready to light it up anytime. But how am I supposed to dance if I don't know how?"
"Intuitively, my love. It's the dance of love, not an exam. Just move with me and feel me, like I feel you. Ready?" After my question, she nods, and we begin.