Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
A/N: This is my first story. I hope you like it!
BoomBoomBoomBoom BoomBoomBoomBoom BoomBoomBoomBoom.
The thumping bass of the techno music kept its steady, pulsing beat. Each time the door opened to the hotel bar you could hear it blaring, then it would quiet to a dull throb when the door shut and you could again hear the faint harp music playing over the sound system in the lobby, combined with the gentle trickle of the fountain. But even with the door closed I could feel the vibrations of the club music in the stiff lobby chair I was currently occupying.
People were milling about just outside the ballroom where we'd just completed our last dinner of the conference. You could hear quiet laughing and conversation that was just starting make the turn from polite topics to those of a more rowdy, personal nature. Emboldened by the wine served with dinner, the timbre of the evening was on the precipice of change, the volume just beginning to rise.
It was like this every year. These same doctors and researchers, currently dressed in their professional finery, will soon be unrecognizable on the dance floor. The carefully knotted silk ties the men now wore around their necks will be used as sweatbands around their heads in less than an hour, after they have entered the club and downed their first two rounds of tequila shots. The women's attire will fare better, but they will lose their blazers and scarves, their laughter growing progressively louder as their eyes take on a wild, slightly manic look. They will all be on the dance floor. Tonight, it's the best time they've ever had. Tomorrow? They will be avoiding eye contact with all of their professional acquaintances as they check out from the hotel, hoping that no one ever mentions the grinding they did with the head of their department.
"Yo! Ed!" greeted my best buddy and colleague, Emmett. He walked up to me, cracking his neck from side to side and giving me a mischievous grin. "You ready to par-tay?" he asked as he took the seat across from me, his back to the entrance of the bar.
Emmett is…well…awesome in many ways. He is awesomely massive, but not in a fat way. He's just really into fitness and exercise, which makes him an excellent sports medicine specialist. He was an awesome sophomore football star with a very promising future at Northwestern until a spinal injury ended his future professional prospects. Many people would mope after their dreams were stolen from them, but not Emmett. He just squared up against his problem, really got into his rehab regimen, and awesomely decided he wanted to help others in the same situation. He and I have been friends since middle school, and while I have always known I wanted to be a doctor, and spent considerable time studying to achieve that goal, Emmett attacked his new career-track with gusto, and got into the Pritzker School of Medicine at the University of Chicago, awesomely rated in the top ten U.S. medical schools, with ease.
Em is also awesomely obnoxious. He thinks something, and says it – there is no filter. He is a prankster and jokester and loves to embarrass people. Currently, he was staring intently over my shoulder, tracking something's, or should I say someone's, progress across the room with a devilish smile on his face.
"Dude. Have you seen some of the women here?" he asked, just as a group of three women made their way past us. He turned his head and continued to eye them, and just as they were passing his chair, he boomed, "We are so gonna get you laid tonight."
I heard the three women burst out laughing, but they never missed a step and never looked back on their way toward the door. I felt my face heat as I hissed, "Emmett!" I watched as they reached the club. The first one there, a brunette, held the door for her friends, a tall blonde and a petite girl with short, spiky dark hair. As the other two entered, the door holder glanced up and saw me watching. Our eyes held for a moment. Then she simultaneously let out a chuckle, smirked, and rolled her eyes as she turned and entered the club.
"What?" Emmett questioned. "We totally are, dude. You've had enough time to get over that skank, Victoria…"
"She's not a skank…" I interrupted.
"Whatever. Okay, you've had enough time to get over the sweet girl you dated since college, who you lost your virginity to, who lost her virginity to you, who gave you gonorrhea when you got back from Doctors without Borders. It's been over a year, man. You are clean, I have condoms," he stood and pulled one out of his pants pocket and tucked it in the breast pocket of my jacket, "and we are getting you out of this sexual deprivation funk and into a night of unfettered, unrestrained, non-committed sexual bliss. And those three who just walked by are ready and willing to oblige."
"How can you know that?"
"Edward. Trust me. I was watching them the whole way across the lobby. They are definitely out for a good time tonight. Tonight is your night, bro. Tonight is your night, bro," he sang.
"Twins? Are you really singing me the Danny DeVito song from Twins? You are twelve, I swear."
"What? That's my favorite Schwarzenegger flick. It's hilarious. And it was his night, dude. And it's yours, too. I can feel it."
"Maybe it's just your night, Em."
"It's always my night, dude. I have already picked out my prey – that tall, delicious-looking blonde that just sashayed by with her besties. You can have one of the others," he added as an afterthought. He looked perplexed for a moment, his face screwed up in thought. Then he announced, "We need a wing-man."
A/N: I would love to hear your constructive criticism and/or comments.