Oh, I can hear the screams of outrage for this cliffhanger already! Yes, I love torturing you guys. And Evy, sadly enough. The poor girl's having a rough birthday. However, it's gonna get a whole lot sweeter. Wait until you see her birthday present. (The girl better be grateful. She kept me up until one writing this.)
As always, those who review have my undying love and gratitude.
Song ~ Touch Me by SMASH/Katherine McPhee
The club was located in an old warehouse- that explained why they had so many floors. Evy felt apprehension and excitement as Max lead her through the foyer, bypassing the lounge in favor of the dance floor.
Vertigo's dance floor was full of closely packed bodies, all dancing or grating to the music that screamed from the DJ's booth. Multicolored lights flicked over and danced with the crowd, flashing off the mirrors and glass that covered the walls. Every surface flat enough to put a mirror on was mirrored; even the ceiling. The effect was disorienting and thrilling. The club was aptly named; even with her feet firmly on the ground, Evy felt like she was spinning and floating.
She turned to smile at Max, shouting in order to give her thanks.
"THIS IS GREAT!"
Max nodded, and shouted back.
"I KNOW! HEY, WANNA GO UPSTAIRS?"
"SURE, WHY?"
"UPSTAIRS IS THE BEST! AND IT'S LESS CROWDED!"
"ALRIGHT! LEAD ON!"
Max grabbed Evy's hand firmly, and tugged her to a set of stairs (mirrored, of course), leading up. They went up two floors, until they came to the third floor which was only moderately crowed, as opposed to the first and second, which had been packed. The third floor balcony and dance floor hung out over the main floor, just over the second. A set of stairs connected the two, anticipating the idiots who would try to hop the rail and leap the three foot gap, never mind the twenty foot drop that awaited failure.
The song changed. A harsh beat began pounding out, enticing the dancers with its rhythm. Soon, the floor was once again alive with moving bodies, dancing and pressing against each other. Evy, despite her hesitation, threw caution to the wind and moved with them.
It was a peculiar state- the music pounded through her like an external heartbeat, pushing her on as she danced within the crowd. She became aware only of the music and the pulsing lights; the people who danced with her.
She emerged from her trance about an hour later, needing to use the bathroom. As she hastily did so, she realized that Max's insistence on skimpy clothes had a practical reason- she was sweating heavily. The dancing and the body heat of the others in the room were warming her up. If she had been in the clothes she wanted, she would have been drenched in sweat by now.
Splashing water from the sink on her face and neck to cool down, she pulled out her phone to check if her mum had called. There were no messages, but one text.
Happy Birthday, sweethearts. I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun with Max. I love you. -Mum
Quickly, and with a stab of guilt for what she was doing, she texted back.
Thnx, Mum, I will. C U tomorrow. Luv U, Evy.
She sent that, and turned off the phone. Putting it back in her pocket, she accidently pulled out the photo of her dad. Picking it up, she debated unfolding it, and examining the image again.
She was sure she had it memorized; but each time she looked at the picture, some detail had faded from her memory. Slightly irritated, she shoved the picture back in her pocket. This was her sixteenth, Max and her's illicit celebration. She didn't have to ruin it with memories and what she was missing, and she refused to do so.
Evy hastily washed up and dashed back out onto the dance floor, eager to renter the trance that came with the dancing. The lyrics of the song flowed through her, guiding her back as she surrendered to them.
So come and turn me on, Baby be my Marlin Brando
Take a good snapshot, Get me from my better angle
cause I like it hot and you know I love a scandal
Tell me, whatcha, whatcha waiting for?
Touch me (touch me)
I want to feel it on my body, put your hands on me
Come on and love me
You want it get it boy, I'll give you till the count of three
Hold me closer, don't wanna take it slow
I want to go somewhere we can be alone
Touch me (touch me)
#
Evy stumbled, losing her harmony with the music. Feeling weariness in every limb, Evy got off the floor, walking over to one of the tables set up for just this purpose. Checking the clock in her phone, she was surprised to see that it was only ten forty-five.
Putting the phone away, Evy leaned back in her chair. She would have expected it to be later. Getting up, she walked over to the small bar and ordering a virgin cocktail. The bartender gave her an odd look until he saw how young she was. He smiled in approval.
"Enough time to make a fool out of yourself when you're legal," he said, pushing the drink over the counter toward her. "On the house. Good for you, luv." Evy smiled, surprised, and nodded her thanks.
She sipped the drink, something involving mangos, lemons, and strawberries. It was rather good, actually, a bit sweet without the bite of alcohol, but not so sweet she wouldn't drink it.
Finishing it, she left the glass on the bar and got up. She wanted to find Max- the girl was an experienced mosher, and could certainly handle herself well here- but Evy was still mortal, and she wanted to go get something to eat. Badly.
Her stomach growled, reminding her how long it had been since her –disgusting- UNIT pre-blood draw snack. Doubling her efforts, she waded through the dancers, looking for a girl in a black corset top and fishnets.
Like that was easy. Half the girls and women there seemed to be wearing corsets and fishnets. Deasperate, Evy began looking at shoes. Corsets and fishnets might have been popular, but Max's boots were distinctive. She was fairly sure that would narrow down the selection a bit.
So intent on looking at shoes was she, she crashed head on into another person. It was a college age guy, with mussed sandy brown hair, open, guileless brown eyes, and who was just a bit unsteady on his feet.
"Sorry!" Evy exclaimed hastily, and swerved around him, intent on finding Max.
"Hey! Pretty girl!" he called after her after a moment. Evy paused, a little irritated.
"What?" she said harshly.
He stood there for a moment, as if making up his mind about something. Then his face cracked a smile.
"Just this."
He bent down and kissed her.
For a moment, Evy was surprised, and then she was disgusted. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, and the sweat rising from his clothes. Disgusted, she shoved him off her, panting with the effort in the sticky and humid air of the club. For a moment, she debated slapping him. But then she looked again.
The boy was obviously drunk. And if he hadn't been, he probably wouldn't have kissed her. So, with great regret, Evy let him off with a look of death, and disappeared back into the crowd.
However, the thought and feel of his kiss did not vanish quite so easily. Evy scrubbed her lips with the back of her hand. It wasn't the kiss that disgusted her. Or the boy. Well, not mostly the boy. It was the way he had done it, and the stench he had.
Suddenly, as though it had permeated the air, Evy could smell it everywhere. The reek of alcohol and sweat and cheap beer and cheaper perfume. The press of people and the beat of the music, once so inviting, now repulsed her. Consumed with the need for a breath of fresh air, she abandoned her shoe search.
Spinning, she frantically tried to find the door that lead to the famous third floor balcony. It was never locked on club nights, Max had told her, and so it was the quickest way to air.
There! On the far side of the room she found it. She pushed through crowds of people, desperate to reach the outside and escape the now intolerable scent of the club.
Everything seemed to move slowly, as if in a nightmare. Time seemed to crawl at a snail's pace, her limbs to move as if cutting through jelly.
Gasping, Evy burst through the door onto the now deserted balcony. Feeling herself wobble, she grabbed the rail of the balcony barrier. She gasped in lungfulls of clean, cold air, gulping it as though she had been drowning. For several minutes she stood there, eyes closed, steadying herself as her lungs inhaled gasps of oxygen.
Gradually, her breathing slowed, and she was able to open her eyes. The crisp London night air refreshed her, cooling her heated skin. Still, she remained where she was, taking deep breaths of the fresh air.
God, I do not want to go back in there.
With effort, she loosened her death grip on the rail. Seeking a distraction, she looked down, into the darkened street.
And then she drew in a shocked breath. Evy blinked and wiped her eyes, disbelieving what she saw, and yet rejoicing in it.
For, tucked in the ill-lit corner of an out of the way alley, was a blue police box.
Yeah- maybe Evy's just to attractive for her own good!
Okay, instead of begging for reviews here, like I did last time, I need help. In the next chapter, Evy will be having a crisis of conscience about taking off with the Doctor (who she isn't telling about his fatherhood). Rose is unavailable, (like a sensible person, she went to bed before one) and Evy will be making some phone calls. Who should be the one person she gets through to? Choices: Ross, Max, a UNIT official she actually trusts (there's a long shot), or your original idea. Submit a review with your vote.