New York City is a truly amazing place, and when it is a Friday night (or Saturday morning), and you are drunk out of your mind, everything is even more incredible. The lights sparkled and danced like little fairies, the skyline reminded me of a castle. It was with these thoughts that I realised I was really drunk. And what is better for a drunken idiot than fatty fast food? Nothing!

'C'mon guys, lets go and get Maccas!' I shrilled, my voice taken up a few octaves due to a high level of intoxication, and the wonderful excitement induced from the thought of a Big Mac. This is what happens when you have spent too many months on a diet consisting of celery and lettuce. I was salivating already.

As we walked into the store, my eyes widened in awe; this was not the kind of cheap, dirty chain we had where I come from, oh no, this was up market. Well, as up market as it could be considering that the food wasn't organic, macrobiotic or some other obscure-diet type. The walls had this freaky-yet-cool pattern on them and swivel seats. The all round effect gave me the idea that I was completely stoned, but I liked it. I supposed I was only a few hours off literally being stoned anyway, so I thought that I should get some practice in.

I ordered . . . well, I don't know what I ordered, but let me tell you – it was good with a capital G.

'You're not afraid to down a burger, Bella' Edward said, somewhat impressed.

'Humfffelph' was my eloquent reply, with a mouth full of animal by-products and plastic cheese.

'Are you not afraid that your ass will grow into a house, or that you are disturbing your body's delicate hormonal balance or something rather?' Emmett teased, his face lighting up with laughter.

I swallowed my bite in one impressive go, then artfully wiped my mouth; I am, after all, a lady. 'I am not into hormone bullshit – aside from the ones that get me horny – and I am not concerned by the banal constraints society puts on beauty'.

'Well said, Bella. Anyway – your ass is one of the finest I have ever seen.' Edward complimented me, and I, well, I responded in a very physical way. The power of words is amazing. Also, the comment gave me hope that maybe he wasn't gay. Frankly, I was gobsmacked and reduced to silence for a few moments.

That left room for the local prostitutes to launch their attack. Two of them came over to our bench; their pleather skirts so short, I swear I could see their ovaries.

'Hi', they drawled, raking their plastic fingernails over Edwards's cheekbones, leaning over him to further expose their boobs into his face.

'We were wondering if you would like to help us out. You see, we are in need of a good fuck, and wondering if you wanted to go three-way with us'.

Well, you cannot say that they beat around the bush.

'Um, thanks for the offer ladies, but I will have to decline. I am sure that there are plenty of guys around here who would be happy to take part.' Edward said, his eyes almost dismissive they were so apathetic.

'Like me, girls, I would love to help!' Emmett wailed desperately after the quickly departing girls. And with the girls left my minute hopes that Edward wasn't gay. Seriously, what guy says no to a ménage a trois with some NYC sluts? I mean, one could pass it off as him being a gentleman in front of a lady, but not when he was as drunk as he was. No right-minded heterosexual male would say no to that. Damn, now he was either gay or a psychopath. Why is it that I can never be attracted to the right guys? I think I need an intensive session with Dr. Phil.

'Shit, Edward. Why did you have to send them off like that? I would gladly have had them!' Emmett said, genuinely puzzled.

'Because I can always come back to a cheap night with some hookers, but I will never be in this exact moment with both of you ever again' Edward reflected, his eyes gazing over me in a strange and unnerving way. His words – those bloody words again – made me melt; he was such a poet. I would gladly be his muse.

'Well, that is all very lovely, Eddy, but now that I am all horny with no place to go, I propose that we try that dance club we have been hearing about.' Emmett said, with renewed enthusiasm.

'What are you talking about? I haven't heard of any new club' I stated, looking puzzled, I am quite sure.

Cue an aghast look from Emmett, and a – slightly less reactive – surprised look from Edward. 'How have you never heard of Dash? Rosalie Hale owns the place, so it was instantly the place to go.' Emmett recites as if he was writing a thesis on the subject, and looks like he is about to faint when I ask who Rosalie Hale is.

'She is God's answer to my prayers; she is the sun that illuminates my morning coffee, the snow that falls gently on my window-sill . . .'

'The pictures he wanks to' Edward finishes for the mesmerised Emmett with an incredulous look on his face. I giggle, then wave my hand in Emmett's face to get him back to reality.

'I never thought you would be one to get caught up in someone like that. But I still don't get who she is. How do you know her?' I ask.

'Emmett doesn't know her. Her just ensures to see every Badass film, and then pretends that it is him who she gyrates against to get her way. It is quite pathetic, really.' Edward explained to me, leaving Emmett looking murderous.

'I am not pathetic! And I do not need to wank to any picture, or wank at all for that matter. I have ladies lining up at my door for whenever I get randy.' Emmett retorted angrily, fuming at Edward.

'Ok. I don't particularly care for your love lives, so how about we check this place out?' I proposed, trying to defuse the situation. And shake myself out of my trance. I do so care about Edward's love life, especially as this stupid gay-or-not plot thickens. The tally for gay is dominating the not-gay one. Emmett likes anything with boobs, and even though I am assuming that Edward's standards are higher, what guy says no to hookers and gorgeous celebrities in the same night? A gay one, that's what.

---

I walked through the doors of the nightclub (ok, I stumbled a bit) and was immediately holed into a sensory overdrive; there were so many people, so many flashing lights and so much noise. I felt like I was going to faint at first, but I started to get right into it.

'Let's go into the middle' I yelled, my head pointed towards the throng of people on the dancefloor. My suggestion was greeted with two quizzical faces, and a 'WHAT?' Realising that there was no way that I could ever communicate verbally with them (it was so loud, I could feel my blood pounding with the beat), I simply grabbed their hands and pulled them in, twisting around to try and get past people.

And soon I was dancing, moving and gyrating to the music, being pushed by a million people around me, and without an inch of my body not being smothered by someone else. I loved it.

The night seemed to never end, and I literally could see nothing but fog and candy-coloured lights. But I felt. I felt some guy's hands all over my back, his legs against mine, and the denim of his jeans on my highly sensitive skin. I hope that I saw Edward wearing jeans.

I am so happy to have finished this chapter! I am on holidays now, so I should be able to write more, which is good

And please review! I got favourited more times than I was reviewed with the last chapter, so please, just give me a little review. If you like it enough to favourite it, than why can't you review? I love reviews. Very much.

Thanks for reading!

calamityxcooper