Psynthetic

It was a typical winter morning and the cold, bitter air nipped Bryan’s lips as he put the cigarette to his lips again, dragging out his nicotine that he'd discovered. He shivered and shook, waiting in front of the bistro on the corner of 4Th and Sycamore. Why was he braving the cold, skipping school even?

Well, it’d all stated last night, at the night club Psynthetic. The massive crowds. The flashing lights. The down beat of the electronic beat that played on and one, hypnotizing him in such a way that he couldn’t walk away. Now, naturally the 17 real old would never walk the streets of the Red District, but after the fight with his parents about his regular pot use, he only rebelled more. It was like a sling-shot, really.

He stood across the street for half an hour before he got the gull to stand in line. Behind the drama queens. Behind the rockstars. The freaks and the night owls. The woman infront of him smelled thickly of cotton candy perfume, which tantalized him if knowing what inside was like, and who these people were.
Bryan got to the front of the line, looking hopefully at the bouncer who stood, arms crossed with that disapproving disposition that all security members had at these sort of things.

“I.D.?” he asked, eye brows raised, causing thick lines of sausage on his forehead.

“No..” I murmured. “I left it at home.”

“Look. No I.D. No entry.”

“But—“

“Hello, hello! Emmet G. Julius, coming through!”

A commotion arose from the crowd behind the teen, and he turned. People’s head’s shuffling amongst the crowd as the being appeared behind Bryan. “Hello there, Miles, you’re looking well, I see,” the man said to the bouncer, his homosexual accent sticking out like a sore thumb. And not just that. He was the most flamboyant and glamorous man he’d seen in his short life; not tall, but skinny. Black hair styled so finely you wouldn’t believe it was sculpted with human hands. Sequin blazer. Rainbow glitter skinny jeans. Marilyn Monroe sunglasses. The works. He too smelled strongly of cotton candy.

The bouncer simply nodded, stepping aside for him and his counterparts. Bryan tried to sneak in with the others, but the man stopped him again.

“Hey you! No. Entry!”

He shoved Bryan back, the teen falling back upon the tattered carpet way into the crowd of people. Then, a miracle happened. The gay man turned, pulled down his shades and smirked at Bryan.
“Hey,” he said. “hurry up and I’ll pour you a shot, eh?”
Bryan was a little shocked, he couldn’t lie. He pointed to himself, and in receiving a nod, he stood and hastily walked up to the raven. The bouncer butted in again.

“Wait, he’s with you?”

The man turned slowly to glance smugly at Bryan. “Of course. This is..” He paused, looking Bryan up and down, spying the cannabis gauge in his left ear. “Jude; the drug child.” And he snickered.

“Go on, Miles. Be a doll.” He smiled, the facial hair he bore stretching with his smile. After a moment’s hesitation, he let the two pass, but not without sending a long glare at Bryan first.
But what went on inside, he couldn’t of imagined. He followed the colorful man through the crowded dance floor, past seated people with drinks eyeing him strangely, past hot dancers that nearly clung to one another with erotic intensity. Past loud speakers that pumped loud bass beats through his heart and tested his ears, to the wet bar across the way. The man swivled around in his chair, shouting over the crowd to get his request in. Bryan sat nervously to the right of him, laying low and watching the night-life around him quietly.

“So.. Jude.” The man said, crossing a leg high over the other.

“Do you think you know me?” Bryan asked.

“I dunno, does it really seem that way?”

Bryan paused for a minute to think about that, but he was too much of a stoner to think it through. “You know my name’s not Jude.”

“Really?”

“It’s Bryan.”

The man looked shocked. “’Bryan?’ Ugh, what an atrocious name. Jude is so much better.”

“..You think so?”

“Oh, of course, darling. It’s short, sweet, and to the point.” He flashed Bryan a smile as his shots arrived.

“And you may call me ‘Emmet’ or ‘Emmet Julius’ or even ‘Emmet G. Julius’—whatever works for you, my love.” Bryan couldn’t help but smile. He grabbed a shot from the small tray and held it up, ready to toast to Emmet. “So. What did you have in mind tonight, ..Darling?” Bryan said, earning a smirk behind thick sunglasses.

“..whatever you want, young Jude. The night won’t end until morning.

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This is a major WIP. Think of this chapter as a prologue of whats to come. R&R if you care to. :]