“It’s gonna be so much fun!” she squealed. “You’ll love it, I know you will!”
Unlikely.
I tried not to dwell on what else I could be doing on a Saturday evening.
She carried on gushing. “This is my night, I can feel it!”
I felt almost sorry for this Theo chap.
Chelsea’s dress barely covered her arse, or her tits, for that matter. A tiny little scrap of pink lace, leaving virtually nothing to the imagination. She looked like a Barbie doll, pretty but plastic. Very, very plastic. Still, she was happy, and undoubtedly plenty of men at this Kings place would be, too.
I looked like a plain Jane at her side, but I couldn’t care less. One night at this crappy club would keep her quiet for a while, at least.
She was already half pissed on cheap wine by the time we reached the queue for Kings. It was a long one. A long one filled with Chelsea types. I stuck out like a big, sore ginger thumb.
I sent a text to Jason.
In the queue at this crappy club. Wish me luck. x
I wondered what he was doing. Something better than this if he had any sense. His reply gave little hint. A simple enjoy and nothing else.
Finally we reached the front of the line. Chelsea shimmied up to the bouncers, fluttering her eyelashes like a professional. She was so excited, grinning her head off as they raised the barrier and waved her on in. Maybe this really would be her night. Maybe I’d even enjoy the place.
I hadn’t even noticed the barrier come down.
“Sorry, Miss, not tonight.”
I looked up at the bouncer. “Sorry, what?”
“You can’t come in,” he said. “Dress code.”
I looked down at my outfit. It was longer than Chelsea’s but that was about all. A perfectly presentable satin number with decent height heels. “What’s wrong with it?”
Chelsea came dashing back, reaching for my arm over the barrier. “She’s with me.”
“Dress code is dress code. Nothing I can do.”
My cheeks burned, mortified at the snickering from the queue behind me. Faces peered out from the club, too, my predicament in plain view of the swanky reception bar.
“What is the dress code?” I asked. “I don’t see what’s wrong.”
The bouncer leaned into me like I was some kind of simpleton. “It’s a big night for us. Singers are in. Club’s gotta look the part, you know?”
Suddenly it made sense. So much fucking sense.
“Please...” Chelsea whined. “Please let her in.”
I choked back the humiliation, knowing full well they’d never let me in. “It’s ok,” I said. “You go on.”
Her eyes flew wide. “I can’t go on my own!”
I managed a smile. “I don’t think you’ve got much choice.”
Some skinnier girls squeezed on past, disappearing inside without incident.
I turned away, determined not to get upset in front of any of the assholes, gesturing that I’d call her in the morning. I heard her pleading with the bouncers, but it fell on deaf ears. I carried on along the walk of shame, taken aback when Chelsea tottered along after me.
“Thanks,” I said. “You could have stayed.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “As if...”
I smiled, admiring her loyalty, but she ruined it in a heartbeat.
“...I’d look like a right loser in there on my own!”
Jason
My dirty girl was easy to spot in the queue, a world removed from the silly little bitches surrounding her. I hung back from the doorway just enough, joining in a conversation with a couple of kids I knew from the training ground. The queue took a fucking age, but I couldn’t bring myself to walk away.
She’d walk past me without having a clue who I was. Maybe she’d even meet my eyes for a moment. I’d like that.
“Can I help you, Mr Redfern?” A smiley hostess grinned up at me. “The VIP area is upstairs.”
“I know where the VIP area is,” I said. “I’m fine here, thanks.”
“Are you sure?”
“Deadly.”
Gemma’s blonde friend was through the barrier first, grinning her head off as she stuck her head around the doorway. I took a breath. Any second now.
But Gemma didn’t come.
I watched in horror as Blondie dashed back to the queue, my stomach turning in knots as my dirty girl’s cheeks blushed pink.
Sneering bitches all around the place.
“This is Kings the club, love, Burger King is back up the street.”
“As if they were ever gonna let her in. Not in a million bloody years, chubby cow.”
“Look at the fat arse on it. Gross.”
My blood fucking boiled, shooting dagger eyes at the whole fucking lot of them as I barged on past. I grabbed the smiley hostess by the arm, heart pounding in my chest as I watched Gemma’s friend take off after her.