I refused. Though the evidence was all around me, I was desperately clinging to the lie. Nails dug deeply into it as if it were merely skin and my nails had sharpened into claws. I refused to trust in the numbers. The DVD player shinned a nauseous neon green, while the lower corner of my laptop read in tiny white numbers 09:02am. I couldn't even bring myself to face the clock placed behind my head, hung tightly on the wall that held a very unrealistic blue octopus in itself, which was cleverly named Octoclock by my roommate Monèt. I had silently begged that the day would end just as fast as I had dreamt the previous night. And for the past five minutes, I have been giving my glowing computer screen a horrible and ugly glare. Something worthy of making babies cry most likely. I had finally, after a little over a week, have checked my email. After, of course, my mother called me twice a day to ask "Have you checked your email yet?" To which I sighed out "Why don't you just tell me what's going on?" "I like the element of surprise better." So after showering, and smacking my sloth-like friend with her own pillow, I bitterly opened my account and read "We want to come visit you!" Every young persons nightmare.

I broke off from my family town last year and did my best to convince my mother (in the nicest way possible) that I needed to enjoy my free life. But now that it's been a year..it was hard to keep her at bay. I loved her dearly, but for now, I preferred to live my simple life without proper socialization. Before heading down the stairs, I tried my best to push Monèt out of her bed, and onto the floor. "I hate you." She mumbled before tangling herself in the bed sheets she had brought down with her. "I'm going downstairs. I expect you down there in fifteen minutes." I gave her head a soft pat as her hands violently swatted me away, grabbed my still wide open laptop, and headed down the wooden stairs. At the very bottom of the slick and practically fresh looking steps, a tightly locked door that held a bright sign that we had randomly picked up off the street in the middle of the night after one too many drinks. The sign read "Dead End", which was all too perfect for what did in fact await me behind the door. Work.

I took a deep breath in, and pushed the door open in a rush, following closely behind it. But the door hadn't opened very far before I was soon pinned between it and the white wall. Choking obnoxiously as the door knob lodged itself into my stomach, practically sending my organs up into my throat. "What the hell!" I shouted into the..what appeared to be abandoned shop. I peered around the door, and frowned as I noticed a pile of boxes stacked purposely against the door. "Mornin' sunshine!" Chimed a familiar voice that belonged to a man who had hidden himself well within my store. To my right, behind a stack of more boxes, a lengthy man rose up, swiping his hands together in satisfaction. "Is this what you call funny?" I growled after noticing his wide grin. "I'm laughing, aren't I?" "Anything fragile in these boxes?" He shrugged and went back under. "Not that I know of." And with that, I forced the door open and smashed the boxes up against the wall. I carelessly left the door open and made my way over to the counter, carefully placing my laptop down on it's surprisingly clean surface. I quickly closed out of the email I had received weeks ago from my mother without responding. "Hello? Em?" "What?" I barked. Not taking my eyes off of the computer as it slowly loaded the stores website; Electric Underground.

"I was talking to you." "..You were?" "You didn't hear me? I asked how you slept." I frowned and continued to tap the Enter key impatiently. "Horrible." "Oh?" "I'm stressed." Without my knowledge, he had leaned up against the counter nonchalantly, wearing a stupid smirk. "I told you to hire more help-" "I don't need the help of stupid teenagers. I'd rather be stressed out than to have my store full of their immature friends who think they can get a discount." He frowned. "You don't give discounts to your friends?" "I don't have friends." he rolled onto his stomach, propped up by his elbows as he leaned in uncomfortably close. "So what do you call Monèt?" I quickly retrieved the book locked away behind me in a small cupboard and smacked it against the desk. "Okay, besides her.." Carefully, I analyzed the information both on paper, and on the screen, adjusting the quantity of a few store items. "And what about me?" His face was so close to mine that I could actually taste his breakfast mixed in his hot breath. I peered up at him, and snickered rudely. "Right now, a pain in my ass." "That's what I get, huh? I've been working for you for almost a year now, and you haven't even taken me out to dinner." "I thought that was the mans job?" "Yeah, well, I've offered many times and you haven't given me an answer yet." "For good reasons." "Then please! Share them with me." He grinned widely. For a few painful and irritating seconds, his bright green eyes had a staring contest with mine, until, of course, the sound of footsteps echoed through the store. Out of the corner of my eye, two females had wandered into the store through the already wide open doors. Thanks to the delivery man. "I have work to do. Go away, Jason."

Hours had finally passed. Pain staking hours of unpacking the fresh boxes delivered earlier in the day. During the session of unpacking and restocking, Monèt had gleefully pointed out that he wrote 'xoxo' on a majority of the boxes. "That man needs to be tranquilized." I stated angrily. But now, the clock had hit the mark, we both locked up the store and headed out for lunch. We perched ourselves next to the wide window in our favorite Cafè that rested quietly just on the other side of the street from our shop. So that while we stuffed our face, we could glare at the people who paused by our shop and stared intently at it. Ready to pounce on anyone that may try to break in.. Not that someone with common sense would break into a shop out in the open when the sun was still high in the sky. "So, listen-" Mon mumbled as she took a bite of her warm sub. "I think we should go out tonight." "..Tonight?" "Yeah, why not? The shop closes at seven-" "Eight." I corrected with a smile. "That's what I said." I chuckled and ripped a hunk of her sandwich off and stuffed it into my mouth, much to her dislike. "Get your own food!" "I did! I'm still hungry." "Well maybe you should start eating more often.. Like I've told you, over a million times." "Yeah, yeah, whatever mom." "Seriously! I don't want to start shoving food down your throat.. And believe me, I will if it comes to that." I ignored her pestering and downed the rest of my Pepsi.

"What did you have in mind?" "Well, I think I'll start with a cake-" I snorted obnoxiously, nearly shooting the caffeine out of my nose. "I meant tonight! What did you have in mind?" Her eyes squinted darkly, with a small smirk on her lips. "Club." "..A club?" "Not a tit club. But a dress is advised." I groaned loudly and slumped forward. Resting my forehead on my folded arms. I was definitely not one for clubs. I went a total of two times, and ended up leaving the minute someone asked for my number. "Oh lighten up. You need this." "Nooo." I moaned childishly. "I'm getting you wasted." "Why would you do that to me? What kind of friend are you!" "One who cares about your sanity!" "Do I have a say in the matter?" She shook her head feverishly as she asked for the check with a full mouth. "I'll go.." I sighed. "As long as you protect me." "Of course I will! But like I said, you're going whether you like it or not." "You didn't invite anyone else..did you?" "No.. Why? Did you want me to? I could ask your boy-" I held my palm in her face, cutting off her insult. "Not my boyfriend. A persistent pain in the ass." She chuckled and hastily signed the piece of paper our waiter had rested on the edge. "Whatever you say." "Honestly, that man has issues.. Why do I attract the weird ones?" "It's not just you. The other day a 59 year old told me how beautiful I was on Myspace.. Oh, then this guy instant messaged me out of random. Said he found my username on my page.. Big mistake on my part. Especially when I saw his page." "What was wrong with it?" "It was covered in pictures of bodies. Real, bloody, beaten bodies. Not that shit you see in movies." My filled stomach churned roughly at the thought of the pictures. Horrible images I had accidentally stumbled upon back in my sick demented middle school days. "That's it." I sighed desperately. "We're destined to die alone."

Instead of the beverage shooting out of Mon's nose, she choked on it. Smacking her chest as she searched for air in a fit of laughter. "Don't be such a downer!" She tried to reach for her wallet, but I beat her to it and laid out a tip for the patient man who had to deal with our company and our constant wants. "And who knows, you might find your man tonight." "No. There's no way! I'm not going to have children and tell them, 'Oh, you're father and I met way back, both shit faced in a club with neon lights and boobs everywhere! It was love at first sight..sort of.'" "Hey, I said this place doesn't have boobs! And even if there were, they wouldn't be there for long." As she stood up, she slung her new tote bag over her shoulder and smiled down at me. "Ready, girlie?" "I suppose.." "Then let's get this day over with! We've got boys to charm." She lifted me out of my seat by my hand and dragged me out the front door, which was thankfully close by. It would have been embarrassing to stumble through the entire Cafè as my speedy friend pulled me along behind her. When we made it out into the sunlight, her arm linked with mine, her hips swaying happily as we marched down the sidewalk. We came to a stop at the corner with a small group of people. Her elbow began to nudge me frantically as she tried to get my attention. "What!" "Look!" She directed my attention to our left down the street, where expensive looking cars lined the side of the street, and a large white van was being emptied of it's heavy equipment and odd looking props. "What do you suppose it's for?" She asked. Her blue eyes fixed on the scene in the distance. "I wanna say a porno.. Is that bad?" She chuckled, and guided me off of the sidewalk and onto the road when it was clear. "No. I think it fit's very well. They could put that flamingo statue to good use." I scrunched up my face. Suddenly feeling violated by her words. "You're horrible."

It was Monèt's turn to tend to the counter, while I cleaned shelves and reorganized misplaced items, mainly, CD's. Our music section stretched over the entire wall across from the desk, and then some. I had lost track of how many we had stocked away, and couldn't give a rats ass about counting them all. "What is wrong with people?" "Hm?" My friend asked dully as she flipped through a magazine. "Papa Roach does not in the slightest even relate to Owl City!" I shouted as I shoved the dark and depressing case back into it's rightful place. "Lazy little bastards!" Out of the corner of my eye I caught the worried eyes of a few customers, backing away slowly. "Was this your doing?" The round man shook his head, mouth still slightly agape. "Good. Let this be a lesson to you." I turned back to the altered music and growled. "The nerve of some people." He quickly made his way over to the counter, and unloaded some cash onto the white surface, along with his Jimmie Hendricks CD. "That's all?" "Y-yeah." While he made his purchase, I couldn't help but think of the things he did while listening to Jimmie. I did this daily. I examined their appearance, and their choice of music and made up my own little story about their life. Right now, I see a dark red beanie, a plaid black button up and baggy dark blue jeans (or rather douche bag jeans) and immediately pictured him in his friends basement smoking pot. Not that everyone in..plaid, and beanies did drugs.. It just seemed common knowledge in my tiny brain.

"So, what are you wearing tonight?" I asked with my attention now back to the job at hand. "Something sparkly. Have you been to that club a few blocks from here?" She asked the customer. "W-what? After Dark? N-no. I'm not old enough." This boosted my accusations even higher. "But I hear good things about it.. Especially the music." She chuckled. "I'm not surprised. You can hear the music all through the streets.. Here you are, have a nice night." I watched the young man and his friends exit the store in a mild hurry. "Eager to smoke they are." I cracked in my pathetic Yoda voice. "Who cares? It's eight o'clock, and guess what that means?" I sighed. "Death and destruction?" "Damn right it is." She skipped over to the front entrance and pulled the two glass doors shut, locked them, and pulled the long black curtains shut over all of the front windows and main entrance. "Come on, dearest." She pulled me away from the CD rack, and began to push me towards the back door, and continued to do so up the stairs and into our decent sized home. She had sat me down on the edge of her bed, and started to model a few options. And every time I opened my mouth to speak my mind, she had shot my opinion down unintentionally and searched for something else. After seven minutes of 'Look's good/ I'm not sure anymore/ Do I even look good in this?' she had settled with a form fitting metallic silver dress, that literally stung my eyes watching it sway in the light. "Damn..when you said sparkly, I thought you meant like a spot or two." "It is a bit sparkly, isn't it?" "A bit? I looks like you murdered a disco ball and used it's remains as clothes!" "Okay! I get it! No need to insult my wardrobe." She tugged a black blazer out of the closet, and buttoned it up once it was on. "Better?" "Much. Thank the lord I can finally see!" I shouted with hands raised in the air. "What about you? Going to join my team? They could really use a friend!" They as in, her sparkles. "Going just the opposite, I think." I reached past her, and dragged out one of her old black dresses that literally zipped from the crotch up. "Wow..really?" "Why not?" "I thought you didn't like showing..all that skin?" "I don't. Which is why.." I reached farther back into her closet, nearly falling flat on my face. Shit, I would have if Mon wasn't standing there to rescue me. Like she always did. Bless her. "I'm wearing this with it." I retrieved a small grey shirt, and held it up with the dress. Her face scrunched up in uncertainty. "Trust me." She shrugged, and wandered through the small maze of dirty laundry that cluttered her room over to her vintage vanity. I changed quickly behind the closet doors, while she pushed her long wavy black hair up into a messy bun, and applied a pink lipstick to her slightly chapped lips. When I came into view, she smiled at my reflection in the mirror. "Well I'll be damned. You know, normally I mock people that wear things like that. But.." She trailed off as she searched for accessories. "Thanks. I'm glad I can make shit look fashionable." I joked. "Oh shut up. I didn't mean it like that. Now come 'ere." All in ten minutes, we were finished with our transformation. Though, it would have taken longer if I tried to accomplish this all on my own. This was all Mon's scene, not mine.

We were now strolling down the poorly lit sidewalk. Edging closer and closer to the sounds of an either incredible night, or a terrible one. And I still haven't determined which I wanted it to be. If it was terrible, I could go home and do something productive and fun, like write. But if it was incredible, Mon would be rubbing it in my face for the longest time. I could practically hear her chirping "Remember that one time?" When the club came into view, there were no windows, just a wide open door, waiting for strangers to pour in.. After paying to enter, of course. I refused to let Monèt pay once again for us, so I handed the proper amount of cash to the large man dressed in black after showing our ID's, and entered the blinding club. Neon light's flashed over the many grinding bodies, while the chatting area was more relaxed, with a few tiny disco balls scattered around the ceiling to reflect few specks of color on the social butterflies in the corner. "So-" I shouted over the music. "Where to first?" "The bar!" She took a hold of my hand, and helped my dodge the many wandering, sweaty people until we reached our surprisingly empty destination. "They don't stay long." The young curly haired woman behind the bar stated once she took in our confused expressions. "They down their drinks and leave, normally. What'll ya have?" "I'll take a Vodka Ricki, and..a Barbie Shot." "You got it." She darted around behind the black counter, fixing our drinks with haste. "A what?" "A Barbie Shot. Trust me, you'll like it." "I feel insulted." "How so?" "Barbie Shot..it just sounds so..like, 'Oh, you're a pussy, so we'll get you a Barbie Shot.'" She snorted. "You're drink is way more packed than mine. Don't feel too insulted." I watched the large group of people behind me dance as if their life depended on it, and pouted slightly. I didn't know how to have that sort of fun. I love to watch people dance, and I love to dance..alone. When I'm around others, I feel like a moron. Which, to be frank, is a definite boner kill. "Alright, here you go, ladies." I brought my eyes back down to the counter, and gaped at my colorful and layered drink. "Good god." "Told you." "What's in yours?' She took a quick sip of hers, sighing in delight. "Vodka, obviously, Sprite, and lime." "And..what's-?" "It's best if you didn't know." She patted my back softly. "It's not going to kill you. Have no fear!" "You don't know that.." I picked up my glass, and began to pour it down my throat with tightly closed eyes. Half expecting my life to flash before my eyes. "'atta girl!"