Eight months ago, if someone had told Ava that just the sight of the Green Light Club’s garish neon sign would be enough to make her smile, she would have laughed in their face. Alright, well, she probably wouldn’t have, but she certainly wouldn’t have believed them either.
And yet, here she was, grinning from ear to ear, at the prospect of feeling something familiar, even if the majority of her memories of the place were of the variety that was best left forgotten. She was fairly sure that there was probably some sort of clinical diagnosis with a long name used to describe the contextually perverse sense of relief she felt at her first glance of shiny black lacquer and crushed green velvet.Goddess, this place was awful, and she was so glad to be back.Then again, the journey getting back to the club had been fraught enough to make her eager to climb under the first black silk duvet she saw, regardless of the fact that it could never, under any cir
