The awakening, p.42
The Awakening, page 42
part #1 of Eve Series
“Look, what’s your point?”
“You should be with me, Jason.”
“God, Madison—”
“We have history, you know. We’ve known each other since we were kids.
We’re practically family already.”
“Madison, you just introduced me to your boyfriend. ”
“Lionel is replaceable. But you,” she tugged at his sleeve, her eyes pleading for attention, “you’re one of a kind. And I can learn to look past the revolting
scar on your chest. It is revolting, isn’t it? I mean, I can only assume—”
“Why are you doing this? All of a sudden, after all these years?”
“Because she doesn’t deserve you.”
“Jesus Christ—”
“I love you, Jason.”
“Madison, you need to stop, okay?”
“But—”
“I don’t want you,” Jason blurted. “You’re shallow, you’re mean, and the
worst part is, you only want to be with me because you hate the fact that I’m with Eve. That’s not real, Madison. What you think you feel for me—it’s a lie.”
Madison took a step away from Jason, glaring at him with eyes as piercing
as daggers. Her bottom lip quivered, and her fingers clenched with a rage that
turned her fair skin a potent shade of red.
“You’re a stupid shit-sack, Jason, do you know that? You should want me.
I’m Madison Palmer. And you choose Eve? A freakish, Amazonian whore?”
Jason stared back at Madison, his gaze lifeless except for the slight curl of
his upper lip—the subtle hint of disgust.
“I thought you were better than this,” Jason said. “I guess I was wrong.”
Jason left Madison by the pillar and ventured back to the party. His eyes darted
back and forth until they finally landed on the one person he was
searching for. He hurried to Eve’s side and wrapped his arm around her waist.
“I’m done mingling,” he said. “This party sucks.”
“Are you okay?”
“I will be.” He tilted his head at the dance floor. “Dance with me?”
Eve nodded, and he led her toward the wooden paneling alongside the string
quintet, veering around other couples until they found an empty spot. Gently,
he took her hand and drew her in close, and they swayed slowly to the soft music. Jason watched Eve as they danced and found himself calmed by her
presence.
She rested her cheek against his. “Happy birthday,” she whispered. “I
probably should’ve said that earlier. Today has been overwhelming, to say the
least.”
Jason chuckled. “I know the feeling.”
“I was in New York this morning.”
“Percy took you on the private jet, huh?”
“How did you know?”
“Not his first time pulling a stunt like that, that’s for sure.” He was quiet for a moment and breathed in deeply, pausing to savor this brief feeling of peace.
“You make me forget—about my parents, about this train wreck of a night,
about the Interlopers. You know what to say to take my mind off things.”
Eve smirked. “I don’t know about that. I’ve never really had a way with words.”
“You’re better than you think.”
“What I really am is an ass,” she said. “I was so preoccupied with flying across
the country and hunting for a stupid dress that I didn’t even have time to
get you a present. I have nothing for you.”
“That’s not true. You’re here—that’s all that matters.” He hesitated. “Being with
you is a gift. Always.”
“See, you’re the one who’s good at talking. You’re practically a poet, for God’s sake—”
“Be my girlfriend.”
Eve stopped, frozen in place by his words. She pulled away from him
slightly so she could look him in the eye.
“What?”
“I want you to be my girlfriend. And I want you to want it, too.” He looked
away uncomfortably. “I know this stuff is hard for you, but I want you to feel
like it’s easy with me—like it’s right. Because it feels right to me.”
Her breath caught in her chest, her lungs suddenly tight. She stared up at Jason
as if she were seeing him for the first time. His eyes were cast off to the
side, his face stressed yet kind—he always seemed so warm to her, no matter
the situation—and even though her body felt hot and weak, her thoughts were
simple.
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“I’ll be your girlfriend.”
His eyes shot back toward hers. “You will?”
“I will.”
“You sound certain.”
“I am.”
He smiled, running his fingers through her hair and sending shivers down
her spine. He cupped her cheek and brought his lips close to hers, lingering for
just a second before dipping his chin and—
He stopped, distracted by the sound of cameras flashing and guests
murmuring, all of them staring at the couple without a hint of subtlety.
“People are watching,” Jason said.
Eve leaned into him. “I’m starting to care a little bit less about that.”
Jason closed his eyes and kissed her, his lips like an electric shock that revitalized every sense in her body. Eve ran her hands up his chest to the back
of his neck, holding him tightly and relishing the moment. She opened her
eyes, and for a second she thought she saw fireworks, but quickly realized it was the flashing cameras. She almost didn’t even mind, and Jason hardly
seemed to notice.
His eyes lit up. “I have to get you something.”
“What?” she asked, perplexed. “No, no you don’t.”
“Of course I do. You’re my girlfriend now.”
“Jason, it’s your birthday, not mine—”
“Flowers,” he interrupted. “It’s not official until there are flowers.”
Jason pointed his wrist toward their dining table not too far from the dance floor. A single, white, long-stemmed rose floated from the center vase and
sailed through the air, drifting above the dance floor, then landing in Jason’s hand.
The sound of horrified gasps and shrieks echoed through the ballroom;
guests jumped from their seats, their faces twisted with repulsion and offense,
and the quintet dropped their instruments, which clanged loudly against the
floor. Reporters immediately swarmed the two chimeras, and Eve shielded her
eyes from the blinding lights of their cameras, but even in the midst of such chaos she could still see the hundreds of wide, petrified eyes that stared back at her, consumed with terror.
Jason’s father tore through the throng of photographers and charged toward
them, his wife trailing right behind him. No longer did he emanate poise or dignity; he displayed no charming grin, no pleasant façade. All that was left was pure, unadulterated rage.
“WHAT IN GOD’S NAME DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”
“Dad—”
“Don’t you dare call me that! You are no son of mine!” the senator snarled.
“Do you understand the severity of what you’ve just done?” Cynthia cried.
“What I’ve done?” Jason repeated, scornfully. “You mean using my gift? My gift? Being who I am? I’m a chimera, Mom. Whether you like it or not, I will always be a chimera!”
Donald pointed a trembling finger at Eve. “This is her fault,” he growled.
“She’s a bad influence on you. You would’ve never behaved this way before.”
“Is that so?” Jason sneered. “And how the hell would you know?”
“Excuse me?”
“WE DON’T KNOW EACH OTHER,” Jason barked. “You are a stranger to
me. Hell, you didn’t even come to see me when I was in the hospital—”
“You know very well that was—”
“BULLSHIT, Dad. That was bullshit.”
“Don’t try to make this about me—”
“It’s always about you. You and your precious image.” Jason backed away, glaring at his father. “You’re right, I’m not your son. Not anymore.” He turned
to Eve. “Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.”
Before Eve could follow him, someone grabbed at her wrist and yanked her
back to the dance floor. She turned to see Donald Valentine’s distraught face.
“For God’s sake, talk some sense into the boy.”
Eve stared back at him—at his clammy skin and panicked eyes—and ripped
her forearm from his grasp.
“I’m sorry, I thought I was a bad influence, Senator.”
She pushed past him and shoved her way through the horde of reporters,
ignoring Madison’s and Lionel’s shocked faces and Heather ’s Cheshire grin as
she hurried for the doorway. Jason was waiting for her at the end of the hall,
angrily pacing in front of the elevator doors.
“Jason?” she stammered. “Jason. Where are we going?”
He looked at her, his eyes suddenly wide and energized, almost hopeful.
“To the Meltdown.”
They walked for nearly an hour, arriving at the Pier Lorent Hotel just as the
sky faded from purple to black. The hotel stood like a beam of light in the darkness, its white walls and blue windows sparkling with newness, though Eve
and Jason were hardly interested, their sights fixed on the alleyway across the
street. They hurried across the road hand in hand, dodging honking cars and laughing like children until they reached the sidewalk and ventured into the alley.
The air felt thick and damp, as if stifled between the two buildings, and the
deeper they headed into the narrow passage, the darker their surroundings
became. It couldn’t be much farther, and so they continued forward, trekking past rows of reeking dumpsters, stumbling through puddles of God knows
what, and all the while keeping their eyes open for anything that resembled the
entrance to a nightclub.
“Lost?”
Eve jumped, caught off guard. She glanced from side to side, searching for
the source of the voice, but no one could be found.
“Down here.”
The voice seemed to be coming from the ground, though it couldn’t be so.
Eve’s eyes darted across the brick wall of the neighboring building and down
to the floor, and then she spotted it: an opening at the foot of the building,
practically hidden in the darkness. She crouched beside the hole, which she soon discovered was the entrance to a cement stairwell, and peered down at the
foot of the stairs, where two bouncers stood in front of a heavy black door.
“When Percy said the Meltdown was an underground club, I didn’t realize he
literally meant underground,” Jason chuckled.
“You looking for the Meltdown?” One of the bouncers cocked his head at
the door. “You found it.”
Eve and Jason headed down the stairs, ducking their heads to clear the low
ceiling, and apprehensively examined the grimy surroundings.
“Looks structurally sound,” Eve mumbled, sarcastically.
“The goal is secrecy—seclusion from protestors.” The first bouncer, thick
and muscular with dark skin and a heavy brow, eyed the chimeras critically.
“Aren’t you two a little overdressed?”
“Save it,” said the second bouncer, a smaller man with multiple piercings.
“They’re not the first ones to show up looking like this.” He shoved his hand
forward. “IDs. Now.”
Jason and Eve fished their driver ’s licenses from their pockets and tossed them into the man’s palm. He stared at the small photos for a split second and
immediately did a double take.
“Holy shit, you’re Jason Valentine!”
“I knew you looked familiar!” the first bouncer chimed in.
“Looks like we’ve got a celebrity in the flesh. And it’s your twenty-first
birthday. Well, you’ve come to the right place.”
He flipped over to Eve’s license, glancing back and forth between her and
the thick piece of plastic. After a few moments, he let out a loud, irritated sigh.
“’Fraid I have bad news: I can’t let you in, not with her.”
“Why not?” Jason asked.
“She’s not twenty-one. Didn’t even think to bring a fake ID?”
“Why does it matter anyway? Neither of us can get drunk,” Eve added.
“Rules are rules. Can’t have anyone underage in the club, even if they’re a chimera. Sorry Miss Kingston, but you’ve got to go.”
“Hold on,” the larger bouncer interrupted. “Your name’s Kingston?”
Eve hesitated. “Yes?”
“Evelyn Kingston?”
“How do you know my name?”
“I’m from San Francisco.”
Eve felt her stomach drop like a bag of cinderblocks. It was inevitable—she
had known a moment like this was bound to happen—but did it have to be
tonight of all nights? The bouncer stared back at her, his eyes quizzical, and then, after a long, agonizing silence, he yanked open the door, unleashing the
suppressed sound of thundering music and the strange stench of sweat, candy,
and sex.
“What are you doing?” the smaller bouncer hissed.
“Letting her in.”
“But—”
“You think he’s a celebrity? Well, she’s a legend.” He glanced back at Eve and Jason and offered them a wink. “Have fun, you two.”
Eve gazed curiously at the bouncer, but only for a moment, as Jason quickly
pulled her into the club, eager to get inside before the bouncers changed their
minds.
The door slammed behind them, shaking the ground and sending dust falling
from the cracks in the ceiling. Eve and Jason glanced at one another and then at
the long, dark corridor in front of them. Far into the distance, they could faintly make out a flicker of pink and purple lights pulsing with the beat of the
music. With apprehension, they made their way down the corridor, going
deeper into the building where the air became ripe and stale. The music grew
louder, and as the passageway finally ended, Eve and Jason found themselves
immersed in bright, streaming lights.
They were standing at the top of a rusted spiral staircase that plunged deep
underground, leading to the pit of a massive, concrete warehouse. Eve could feel the stairs vibrate with each thump of the bass. She peered down over the side, where an ocean of bodies, some chimeras and some human sympathizers,
surged and swelled, dancing and drinking and doing whatever else they
pleased.
Eve and Jason climbed down the stairs, spiraling in dizzying circles until
they finally reached the dance floor. To their left was a somewhat neglected bar
with a lone bartender leaning against his vintage register, bored and aloof as
he stared at his nails. A sign hung above his head— Water: Seven Dollars, Soda: Ten Dollars, Beer and Alcohol: One Dollar—a pricing system that would be preposterous at any other establishment, but not at a chimera club. At the back
of the room sat a makeshift wooden stage, swarmed by people who watched the
performers in awe. A seven-piece band was playing, though each musician
seemed to look surprisingly like the next one, and Eve soon realized that the band was actually only one man reflected into multiple holograms, each one
fading in and out of view based on its relevance to the performance.
“My little deviants!”
Percy charged toward the couple and wrapped his arms around them, nearly
spilling his tequila shots onto their clothes. He laughed and gave them each a
big, wet kiss on the cheek. “You came! This sure as hell beats your boring-ass
party, huh?”
Jason smirked. “I wouldn’t say the party was boring—”
“Well, this is better, trust me.”
They stared out at the throng of bodies—at the profusely sweaty humans and
the boundlessly energetic chimeras—and gawked at their outlandish
ensembles. Everyone seemed to wear the same minimalist clothing in ripped
denim, leather, and latex, if they wore anything at all, as the vast majority were practically nude. Mini-skirts, bathing suits, shorts, and thongs were the
ensemble of choice for both men and women, and breasts and butt cheeks were
plainly visible throughout the club. Percy turned to his friends and laughed.
“Looks like we’re the best-dressed folks here. I win top honors, of course, but you two take a close second and third.”
Jason smiled. “I don’t know, Eve looks pretty spectacular.”
“You should see her in her underwear, if you haven’t already,” Percy added.
“Wait, what?”
“No questions. You didn’t come here to talk, did you?” Percy downed his
shots and tossed the glasses behind him before pulling his two friends onto the
dance floor. “I’d offer you a drink, but that would just be a waste.”
Eve noticed a long red ribbon hanging from Percy’s neck, tied into a sloppy
bow. Another ribbon, this one yellow, was tied across his wrist, and three more
in pink, orange, and blue were wrapped around the arm of his white jacket.
“Hey Percy,” Eve yelled over the music, “what’s with the bows?”
“It’s called gift-wrap. It’s the gimmick of the chimera club scene. You’re free
“You should be with me, Jason.”
“God, Madison—”
“We have history, you know. We’ve known each other since we were kids.
We’re practically family already.”
“Madison, you just introduced me to your boyfriend. ”
“Lionel is replaceable. But you,” she tugged at his sleeve, her eyes pleading for attention, “you’re one of a kind. And I can learn to look past the revolting
scar on your chest. It is revolting, isn’t it? I mean, I can only assume—”
“Why are you doing this? All of a sudden, after all these years?”
“Because she doesn’t deserve you.”
“Jesus Christ—”
“I love you, Jason.”
“Madison, you need to stop, okay?”
“But—”
“I don’t want you,” Jason blurted. “You’re shallow, you’re mean, and the
worst part is, you only want to be with me because you hate the fact that I’m with Eve. That’s not real, Madison. What you think you feel for me—it’s a lie.”
Madison took a step away from Jason, glaring at him with eyes as piercing
as daggers. Her bottom lip quivered, and her fingers clenched with a rage that
turned her fair skin a potent shade of red.
“You’re a stupid shit-sack, Jason, do you know that? You should want me.
I’m Madison Palmer. And you choose Eve? A freakish, Amazonian whore?”
Jason stared back at Madison, his gaze lifeless except for the slight curl of
his upper lip—the subtle hint of disgust.
“I thought you were better than this,” Jason said. “I guess I was wrong.”
Jason left Madison by the pillar and ventured back to the party. His eyes darted
back and forth until they finally landed on the one person he was
searching for. He hurried to Eve’s side and wrapped his arm around her waist.
“I’m done mingling,” he said. “This party sucks.”
“Are you okay?”
“I will be.” He tilted his head at the dance floor. “Dance with me?”
Eve nodded, and he led her toward the wooden paneling alongside the string
quintet, veering around other couples until they found an empty spot. Gently,
he took her hand and drew her in close, and they swayed slowly to the soft music. Jason watched Eve as they danced and found himself calmed by her
presence.
She rested her cheek against his. “Happy birthday,” she whispered. “I
probably should’ve said that earlier. Today has been overwhelming, to say the
least.”
Jason chuckled. “I know the feeling.”
“I was in New York this morning.”
“Percy took you on the private jet, huh?”
“How did you know?”
“Not his first time pulling a stunt like that, that’s for sure.” He was quiet for a moment and breathed in deeply, pausing to savor this brief feeling of peace.
“You make me forget—about my parents, about this train wreck of a night,
about the Interlopers. You know what to say to take my mind off things.”
Eve smirked. “I don’t know about that. I’ve never really had a way with words.”
“You’re better than you think.”
“What I really am is an ass,” she said. “I was so preoccupied with flying across
the country and hunting for a stupid dress that I didn’t even have time to
get you a present. I have nothing for you.”
“That’s not true. You’re here—that’s all that matters.” He hesitated. “Being with
you is a gift. Always.”
“See, you’re the one who’s good at talking. You’re practically a poet, for God’s sake—”
“Be my girlfriend.”
Eve stopped, frozen in place by his words. She pulled away from him
slightly so she could look him in the eye.
“What?”
“I want you to be my girlfriend. And I want you to want it, too.” He looked
away uncomfortably. “I know this stuff is hard for you, but I want you to feel
like it’s easy with me—like it’s right. Because it feels right to me.”
Her breath caught in her chest, her lungs suddenly tight. She stared up at Jason
as if she were seeing him for the first time. His eyes were cast off to the
side, his face stressed yet kind—he always seemed so warm to her, no matter
the situation—and even though her body felt hot and weak, her thoughts were
simple.
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“I’ll be your girlfriend.”
His eyes shot back toward hers. “You will?”
“I will.”
“You sound certain.”
“I am.”
He smiled, running his fingers through her hair and sending shivers down
her spine. He cupped her cheek and brought his lips close to hers, lingering for
just a second before dipping his chin and—
He stopped, distracted by the sound of cameras flashing and guests
murmuring, all of them staring at the couple without a hint of subtlety.
“People are watching,” Jason said.
Eve leaned into him. “I’m starting to care a little bit less about that.”
Jason closed his eyes and kissed her, his lips like an electric shock that revitalized every sense in her body. Eve ran her hands up his chest to the back
of his neck, holding him tightly and relishing the moment. She opened her
eyes, and for a second she thought she saw fireworks, but quickly realized it was the flashing cameras. She almost didn’t even mind, and Jason hardly
seemed to notice.
His eyes lit up. “I have to get you something.”
“What?” she asked, perplexed. “No, no you don’t.”
“Of course I do. You’re my girlfriend now.”
“Jason, it’s your birthday, not mine—”
“Flowers,” he interrupted. “It’s not official until there are flowers.”
Jason pointed his wrist toward their dining table not too far from the dance floor. A single, white, long-stemmed rose floated from the center vase and
sailed through the air, drifting above the dance floor, then landing in Jason’s hand.
The sound of horrified gasps and shrieks echoed through the ballroom;
guests jumped from their seats, their faces twisted with repulsion and offense,
and the quintet dropped their instruments, which clanged loudly against the
floor. Reporters immediately swarmed the two chimeras, and Eve shielded her
eyes from the blinding lights of their cameras, but even in the midst of such chaos she could still see the hundreds of wide, petrified eyes that stared back at her, consumed with terror.
Jason’s father tore through the throng of photographers and charged toward
them, his wife trailing right behind him. No longer did he emanate poise or dignity; he displayed no charming grin, no pleasant façade. All that was left was pure, unadulterated rage.
“WHAT IN GOD’S NAME DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”
“Dad—”
“Don’t you dare call me that! You are no son of mine!” the senator snarled.
“Do you understand the severity of what you’ve just done?” Cynthia cried.
“What I’ve done?” Jason repeated, scornfully. “You mean using my gift? My gift? Being who I am? I’m a chimera, Mom. Whether you like it or not, I will always be a chimera!”
Donald pointed a trembling finger at Eve. “This is her fault,” he growled.
“She’s a bad influence on you. You would’ve never behaved this way before.”
“Is that so?” Jason sneered. “And how the hell would you know?”
“Excuse me?”
“WE DON’T KNOW EACH OTHER,” Jason barked. “You are a stranger to
me. Hell, you didn’t even come to see me when I was in the hospital—”
“You know very well that was—”
“BULLSHIT, Dad. That was bullshit.”
“Don’t try to make this about me—”
“It’s always about you. You and your precious image.” Jason backed away, glaring at his father. “You’re right, I’m not your son. Not anymore.” He turned
to Eve. “Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.”
Before Eve could follow him, someone grabbed at her wrist and yanked her
back to the dance floor. She turned to see Donald Valentine’s distraught face.
“For God’s sake, talk some sense into the boy.”
Eve stared back at him—at his clammy skin and panicked eyes—and ripped
her forearm from his grasp.
“I’m sorry, I thought I was a bad influence, Senator.”
She pushed past him and shoved her way through the horde of reporters,
ignoring Madison’s and Lionel’s shocked faces and Heather ’s Cheshire grin as
she hurried for the doorway. Jason was waiting for her at the end of the hall,
angrily pacing in front of the elevator doors.
“Jason?” she stammered. “Jason. Where are we going?”
He looked at her, his eyes suddenly wide and energized, almost hopeful.
“To the Meltdown.”
They walked for nearly an hour, arriving at the Pier Lorent Hotel just as the
sky faded from purple to black. The hotel stood like a beam of light in the darkness, its white walls and blue windows sparkling with newness, though Eve
and Jason were hardly interested, their sights fixed on the alleyway across the
street. They hurried across the road hand in hand, dodging honking cars and laughing like children until they reached the sidewalk and ventured into the alley.
The air felt thick and damp, as if stifled between the two buildings, and the
deeper they headed into the narrow passage, the darker their surroundings
became. It couldn’t be much farther, and so they continued forward, trekking past rows of reeking dumpsters, stumbling through puddles of God knows
what, and all the while keeping their eyes open for anything that resembled the
entrance to a nightclub.
“Lost?”
Eve jumped, caught off guard. She glanced from side to side, searching for
the source of the voice, but no one could be found.
“Down here.”
The voice seemed to be coming from the ground, though it couldn’t be so.
Eve’s eyes darted across the brick wall of the neighboring building and down
to the floor, and then she spotted it: an opening at the foot of the building,
practically hidden in the darkness. She crouched beside the hole, which she soon discovered was the entrance to a cement stairwell, and peered down at the
foot of the stairs, where two bouncers stood in front of a heavy black door.
“When Percy said the Meltdown was an underground club, I didn’t realize he
literally meant underground,” Jason chuckled.
“You looking for the Meltdown?” One of the bouncers cocked his head at
the door. “You found it.”
Eve and Jason headed down the stairs, ducking their heads to clear the low
ceiling, and apprehensively examined the grimy surroundings.
“Looks structurally sound,” Eve mumbled, sarcastically.
“The goal is secrecy—seclusion from protestors.” The first bouncer, thick
and muscular with dark skin and a heavy brow, eyed the chimeras critically.
“Aren’t you two a little overdressed?”
“Save it,” said the second bouncer, a smaller man with multiple piercings.
“They’re not the first ones to show up looking like this.” He shoved his hand
forward. “IDs. Now.”
Jason and Eve fished their driver ’s licenses from their pockets and tossed them into the man’s palm. He stared at the small photos for a split second and
immediately did a double take.
“Holy shit, you’re Jason Valentine!”
“I knew you looked familiar!” the first bouncer chimed in.
“Looks like we’ve got a celebrity in the flesh. And it’s your twenty-first
birthday. Well, you’ve come to the right place.”
He flipped over to Eve’s license, glancing back and forth between her and
the thick piece of plastic. After a few moments, he let out a loud, irritated sigh.
“’Fraid I have bad news: I can’t let you in, not with her.”
“Why not?” Jason asked.
“She’s not twenty-one. Didn’t even think to bring a fake ID?”
“Why does it matter anyway? Neither of us can get drunk,” Eve added.
“Rules are rules. Can’t have anyone underage in the club, even if they’re a chimera. Sorry Miss Kingston, but you’ve got to go.”
“Hold on,” the larger bouncer interrupted. “Your name’s Kingston?”
Eve hesitated. “Yes?”
“Evelyn Kingston?”
“How do you know my name?”
“I’m from San Francisco.”
Eve felt her stomach drop like a bag of cinderblocks. It was inevitable—she
had known a moment like this was bound to happen—but did it have to be
tonight of all nights? The bouncer stared back at her, his eyes quizzical, and then, after a long, agonizing silence, he yanked open the door, unleashing the
suppressed sound of thundering music and the strange stench of sweat, candy,
and sex.
“What are you doing?” the smaller bouncer hissed.
“Letting her in.”
“But—”
“You think he’s a celebrity? Well, she’s a legend.” He glanced back at Eve and Jason and offered them a wink. “Have fun, you two.”
Eve gazed curiously at the bouncer, but only for a moment, as Jason quickly
pulled her into the club, eager to get inside before the bouncers changed their
minds.
The door slammed behind them, shaking the ground and sending dust falling
from the cracks in the ceiling. Eve and Jason glanced at one another and then at
the long, dark corridor in front of them. Far into the distance, they could faintly make out a flicker of pink and purple lights pulsing with the beat of the
music. With apprehension, they made their way down the corridor, going
deeper into the building where the air became ripe and stale. The music grew
louder, and as the passageway finally ended, Eve and Jason found themselves
immersed in bright, streaming lights.
They were standing at the top of a rusted spiral staircase that plunged deep
underground, leading to the pit of a massive, concrete warehouse. Eve could feel the stairs vibrate with each thump of the bass. She peered down over the side, where an ocean of bodies, some chimeras and some human sympathizers,
surged and swelled, dancing and drinking and doing whatever else they
pleased.
Eve and Jason climbed down the stairs, spiraling in dizzying circles until
they finally reached the dance floor. To their left was a somewhat neglected bar
with a lone bartender leaning against his vintage register, bored and aloof as
he stared at his nails. A sign hung above his head— Water: Seven Dollars, Soda: Ten Dollars, Beer and Alcohol: One Dollar—a pricing system that would be preposterous at any other establishment, but not at a chimera club. At the back
of the room sat a makeshift wooden stage, swarmed by people who watched the
performers in awe. A seven-piece band was playing, though each musician
seemed to look surprisingly like the next one, and Eve soon realized that the band was actually only one man reflected into multiple holograms, each one
fading in and out of view based on its relevance to the performance.
“My little deviants!”
Percy charged toward the couple and wrapped his arms around them, nearly
spilling his tequila shots onto their clothes. He laughed and gave them each a
big, wet kiss on the cheek. “You came! This sure as hell beats your boring-ass
party, huh?”
Jason smirked. “I wouldn’t say the party was boring—”
“Well, this is better, trust me.”
They stared out at the throng of bodies—at the profusely sweaty humans and
the boundlessly energetic chimeras—and gawked at their outlandish
ensembles. Everyone seemed to wear the same minimalist clothing in ripped
denim, leather, and latex, if they wore anything at all, as the vast majority were practically nude. Mini-skirts, bathing suits, shorts, and thongs were the
ensemble of choice for both men and women, and breasts and butt cheeks were
plainly visible throughout the club. Percy turned to his friends and laughed.
“Looks like we’re the best-dressed folks here. I win top honors, of course, but you two take a close second and third.”
Jason smiled. “I don’t know, Eve looks pretty spectacular.”
“You should see her in her underwear, if you haven’t already,” Percy added.
“Wait, what?”
“No questions. You didn’t come here to talk, did you?” Percy downed his
shots and tossed the glasses behind him before pulling his two friends onto the
dance floor. “I’d offer you a drink, but that would just be a waste.”
Eve noticed a long red ribbon hanging from Percy’s neck, tied into a sloppy
bow. Another ribbon, this one yellow, was tied across his wrist, and three more
in pink, orange, and blue were wrapped around the arm of his white jacket.
“Hey Percy,” Eve yelled over the music, “what’s with the bows?”
“It’s called gift-wrap. It’s the gimmick of the chimera club scene. You’re free
