Forrest

FORREST

“AHHH.” A deep groan broke from the Night Stalker Club office as I passed by.

Fucktastic!

A loud thud followed, vibrating the door. This was fucking ridiculous. Call me old-fashioned, but they could do it at home before they came over.

I quickened my pace toward the entrance of the rooftop. Sex noise didn’t surprise me, but considering my friends were the ones making those noises, it was awkward. I couldn’t listen to that. I couldn’t blame them if they wanted a quick fuck with their wives though. They had the best lives, but ignoring the stabbing pain settling in my chest was hard.

At the rooftop, the sun just sat down from the horizon. My eyes were steady as I watched the red, orange, and yellow colors before the twilight beckoning the sky. Those colors reminded me of fire, passion, danger, energy, happiness, and hope.

I leaned my elbows against the concrete parapet, flicked the ash from my cigarette, and breathed in the remaining inch I lit up while watching for the sun to set.

The lights started to scintillate around me to somehow light up the darkness surrounding the city. I stubbed the butt till it stopped smoking. Exhaust and city pollution came back to life.

I knew people said cigarette smoking was dangerous to your health, but this thing was a reminder that life wasn’t fair. People thought I was a weird shit to choose a deadly companion than a woman—that I didn’t have a beating organ in my body, that I was an ice king if that even existed. What they didn’t know was, I was a good guy, that I didn’t even like this another part of me, but it grew inside me already, and I had to embrace it for some reason.

The thing was, hard life taught me to be prepared.

The only question was, would I ever want to be that person anymore? The old version of myself—when I felt I was a better version of who I was today?

I walked down and met the nightclub manager, Kyland in the locker room. I quickly cleared my mind and pretended I didn’t hear what happened earlier.

“Bro.” He patted my back.

“Hey.” I wore my black button-down shirt and rolled each sleeve above my elbows. My tattoo peeked out. It was an orange flame full of anger with black smoke swirled from my wrists up to my arms.

“How’s your trip?”

“Great. Thanks for arranging my sched.”

“Anytime.”

“Got to go to work. Bills won’t pay itself.” I wore my black apron with the club logo and walked out.

The former notorious playboy, Pyke Hughes, the club owner didn’t give a damn about the uniform. I was glad he preferred black.

The main bar had its dimly-lit dived with only yellow lights emblazoned from the low ceiling. Monday was not the busiest, but the customers entered in somewhat rush as soon as the club sign lit open.

The music visualizer from the 3D walls created colorful particles in balls shaped that synchronized to the beat of the 90’s pop song played by the DJ from the booth towering the dance floor.

barstool. Her makeup was simple as if she just came from long hours of work. She tapped her colorless perfectly manicured nails against the bar counter leisurely. Based on her dress, she didn’t come here

ice, gin, and vermouth I took from the back bar. I stirred it for a few seconds. Placing down the martini glass on the counter, I strained the mix and garnished it with olives. “Here you go, ma’am.”

gave me a polite

the different types of people; from rich kids, playboy, bad boy, flirt ladies, cheating husband, horny guys, brokenhearted, dirty business, and sex, but I also developed a good relationship with

down the order for table-four.

to the couple at the dark red C shaped lounge chair with a half-moon-shaped silver

it that way—it made me forget something I

“Wanna stay for a while?” Kyland asked, opening

shook my head.

bar counter, grabbing the

man.” Kyland

chuckled inwardly. They were literally brothers-in-law now. Pyke

the beer to offer back and laughed while Kyland was glaring back at him. “Then go grab another one.”

“Can’t take for your own, dude?”

wife not good at

my memory served right, Pyke was quite clueless of them almost bringing down the

her alone, Hughes!”

women before. I had no idea. They quitted the moment they were

going to have sex? What I mean sex, the hardcore kind, kinky, and

“Are you trying to liberate him?”

to figure

thought I didn’t like women or

shrugged it off. “My sexual exploitation

married, but I never saw you going out of the club with a woman either. Waiting for a perfect girl, huh?” Pyke faced me, piquing his

But I can assure you I have a sex

Kyland and Pyke burst into laughter, high-fiving

do you ask for days off every last week of

a weekend or if it was not a work-related topic. I thought they respected my

“Of course.” He nodded subtly, seemed

bidding goodbye, I walked out of the employee exit to where I parked my Onyx black 2001 Chevy Camaro Z28. I checked my phone for a call from someone as soon as I got inside.

Man played over the Bose speakers. I pulled out into the driveway, tapping my fingers on the wheel to the beat of the old

advanced security system that I installed myself. It had a camera on the peephole that no one would even notice. I

to make sure things were in the right places. I chose the colors according to my preferences—black, gray, and white. The dark

been awake for more than twenty-hours now. I slumped body to

the number on my speed dial and

to the Diabetic Research Center in New York two months ago about our proposed project, the

as I didn’t want to disappoint him, I couldn’t let his hope high. But if he believed in me and this project, I should at least believe in what we did. I knew Bill and his team worked their asses hard to get this

could use a brain you

enough for