The Club

When Myra stepped out of the mall, she had already gathered the attention, and a few even whistled, cat-called, making her face flush. She kept glaring at her friend walking beside her looking immune to all the whistling and flirtatious comments.

“Do I have to wear this to attend a party? If you had told me this condition before, I wouldn’t have come,” Myra said while pulling her dress.

“Oh, come on, can’t you see how they are gaping at you? You are a treat to watch,” Sharon winked, slapping Myra on her ass.

The latter gasped in surprise, looking around to ensure no one saw what her friend did to her in a public place. 

“Where is your car?” she asked, cursing the moment she agreed to be friends with the wicked woman standing beside her. 

While Myra was every now and then pulling her dress down or checking her dress, on the other hand, Sharon was cool as a cucumber. She stood as if she was a model and owned the road. There was not an ounce of hesitation, and she carried herself with utter confidence. If Myra was ice, Sharon was fire, both of their personalities pole apart, yet they became best friends. 

“I gave it for servicing. You know, cars and stuff just like sending your car to a salon. Oh wait, you don’t even know how to drive. To whom I’m explaining,” Sharon said, flicking her straightened hair.

Myra couldn’t wait to board the cab and get away from the unwanted attention they were getting. The moment a taxi stopped before them, she literally jumped into the passenger seat without waiting for her friend.

“What are you doing?!” Sharon shrieked, grabbing Myra’s hand, who was rubbing off her lipstick.

“Nothing, just lightning it a bit. It looks way too much for me,” Myra said while trying to take her hand out of Sharon’s grip.

“No, you are not. Now stop it already,” Sharon said while rolling her eyes.

“Remind me, how we became friends?” Myra scowled at her friend.

“Long story short, you begged me to be your friend,” Sharon replied with a smirk.

Myra scoffed in disbelief, “No, I did not!”

“Yes, you did.”

The entire ride, Myra narrated their college time when Sharon first approached her and stalked her around till they became friends. 

“Always work,” Sharon said, pointing towards the club in their vicinity.

“What?!” Myra asked, baffled.

“Rile you up with something trivial, and it would take your mind off your panic,” was the reply Sharon gave before winking at her friend and asking the driver to stop.

Myra was too stunned to comprehend; however, when Sharon nudged her to get out of the cab, she schooled her expression and did as her friend told.

A two-story block lighted with neon lights came into their view. The vast park lot around it was already filled with cars—expensive, luxurious, modified.

Some were already making out wherever they could find a spot, while some were waiting for their gang to join. Although Myra and Sharon were in their mid-20s, the young crowd around them made Myra feel out of place. But that was far from the reality. As naive as she was, she didn’t notice the stare they were getting wherever they went. And the young crowd that made her feel out of place was only outside the club, trying to forge their minor age to enter the club.

Myra’s views changed as soon as they entered the club.

The crowd was anything but like the ones she saw outside. The club’s top floor had booths, and many suit-clad men were seated in them in a group, either enjoying their free time or entertaining their guests or clients. Since the place was dimly lit or primarily dark, especially the booth area on the upper floor, Myra couldn’t make out faces. 

If Myra felt her dress was short, she felt modest when looking around the scarcely clothed women. Her train of thought broke when Sharon grabbed her wrist and had to shout among the loud music.

“Let’s go to the bar. It will give the complete view of the club,” Sharon shouted and was pulling Myra when Myra stopped her.

“I don’t drink, you know that,” Myra pursed her lips.

“I know, but I never asked you to drink, did I?” Sharon said in a raised voice.

Myra went along without protesting and had to make her way among the dancing crowd. Soon they found a place and settled themselves, ordering mocktails and enjoying the pumped-up atmosphere. However, it lasted for a few moments for Myra. The energy inside the club was at its peak, but it couldn’t be said the same about Myra, who looked aloof from the crowd. Although she was with Sharon, who was engrossed in her mischievous chat about the men around, her eyes tell some other story; sorrow. Dressed in a beige-colored body-hugging dress with bold red lips, she looked nothing less than a seductress, though petite, yet there was something about her that was intriguing. 

With work, she could divert her mind from her divorce case; however, when her mind was idle, the memory of the divorce came back with a vengeance. Myra either twirls the glass or fidgets with her dress to distract herself.

“I swear, if you don’t stop pulling your dress, I will give your number to some random guy here,” Sharon had to warn her.

What if he sees me like this? He won’t be happy, Myra was thinking

Abram was a possessive caveman by nature who lost his composure whenever any guy looked at Myra or, worse, touched her. And the thought she got more attention in her sexy dress brought that thought out of the blue.

“Myra, you have to let him go,” Sharon interrupted her thoughts.

Sharon observed how Myra was only holding her drink and was lost somewhere. She was her only friend who knew her from their college days and has seen her struggle with her marriage and her devil husband, Abram.

Giving her signature smile with a glint of sorrow, Myra replied, “He already left me. Can I do anything now?” with that, she drank her drink in one go. 

“Woah! Let’s go and burn the dance floor,” Myra said, sounding cheerful altogether.

Sharon rolled her eyes at her failed attempt, yet she complied with her friend and joined her on the dance floor.

The in-house DJ was playing the trance. At first, Myra was hesitant, but soon she let the energy inside the club take over her. She swayed her body along the grooves and moved her hips seductively. Lost in her daze, she let the music slowly fade off her sorrow. Raising her arms in the air and slowly sliding them against her body, she sensuously moves her hip sideways. She could feel the heat around her and make out guys approaching her, but that didn’t bother her. Closing her eyes, she felt the music, letting the high beat run through her vein and take away her haunted past. With each beat, she felt her mind replaying her past in front of her, and one by one, she was letting it out of her memoir. 

“Please, listen to me. I can’t live without you.”

“Don’t make me laugh now, Myra,” he mocked her.

“Abram, I will do anything, just please don’t leave me.”

“Anything?”

“Yes, anything, please, I love you.”

“Then abort this baby.” He said without remorse.

“What, now you don’t love me?” he asked when Myra was too stunned to reply, staring directly at her shocked expression.

“Either it’s the baby or me, you decide.”

Suddenly the music seemed to stop. Loud voices could be heard from somewhere near the bar counter that was designed in such a way it looked like an underground floor rather than a part of the club. Myra opened her eyes and saw the same confused expression on her friend’s face. The crashing of glasses was heard next, and suddenly the entire crowd’s attention was on the loud voice. Thrashing, or maybe something was continuously beaten up. When Myra and Sharon noticed that the crowd started gathering around the railing separating the counter and the dance floor, they immediately walked towards it to see the cause of the disturbance.

Myra heard angry voices followed by grunts. Although the club went silent, some enthusiastic spectators started recording the commotion on their cell phones. She could make out male voices yelling profusely, followed by the sound that someone was getting punched. Her instinct suddenly went on high alert on its own, which seems to have confused her. 

Why do I feel scared all of a sudden? she thought while walking briskly along with her friend.

They had to push through the crowd to get a clear view, and when they did, they saw the back of a man who was crouched down over some guy, clutching the collar and punching him. Some men were trying to pull him up and separate the duo; however, as if possessed by a demon, that guy was landing one punch after another. The man lying on the ground was trying to protect himself, and some bouncers had to come for his rescue. Suddenly, Myra’s lower eyelid starts fluttering like a bad omen. She was still comprehending the situation when the yelling intensified with many voices talking together. She didn’t have time to register when suddenly she heard the man who was hitting roar, “Son of a bitch, you dare? SHE IS MY WIFE.”

“Fuck, I will kill you, leave me,” the timbre in the voice held a murderous ring to it, which sent a shudder down her spine.

She gasped and held her breath as she was too familiar with the voice and the anger behind it. She snapped out of her thoughts when a table fell on the floor, and when she raised her eyes, they met with furious black orbs glaring murder at her. 

Two men were holding him, but the moment his eyes locked with Myra’s brown ones, he pushed them away with force.

“I aborted the baby just as you asked me. How can you not be true to your words?” Myra was clutching his arms.

“I never said I will not divorce you,” he smirked at her and jerked her hand.

That was the last Myra ever saw him.

“ABRAM!” she couldn’t stop whispering his name.

Her knees began to shiver, and her weak legs almost made her fall when Sharon came to her rescue and held her. She, too, had the same horrid expression as Myra. 

The rage Myra saw in his eyes made her flinch, and the next moment she ran to save herself before the promised wrath in those brown eyes could engulf her. 

Why was he here? Why didn’t he attend the court session today if he was in the city?

Her instinct told her to run, and she obliged without caring for the direction she was going. When she came to her senses, she realized she was in one of the restrooms. One look at her reflection froze her. 

What she saw was the reflection of a woman who was trembling violently, her face tear-stained which she didn’t even realize till now. She put her trembling hands over her mouth to stop her whimpers.

After all these months, he still affects me like this, she thought.

Her neighboring girl gave a sympathetic glance, and Myra quickly averted her gaze, turning the water faucet with her trembling hand. However, she was startled when she heard someone shrieking.

“Who the fuck are you? This is the women’s restroom, you asshole!”

Before Myra could comprehend who shrieked or whom that girl was cursing, her forearm was harshly pulled, and she came across the same angry orbs.

She froze when she realized Abram followed her inside the restroom.

All she saw was fury in his eyes, which was scanning her from head to toe, and the scowl deepened, noticing her body-hugging dress. His nostrils were flaring like an angry bull. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“What the hell are you wearing?” Abram yelled while roughly grabbing her by her forearms, making her flinch. 

“Please…..” she gulped in fear and continued, “please, you are hurting me.”

She didn’t know whether she should be happy to see him after two years or be afraid of his anger as before?

The women in the restroom started shouting and complaining about the intruder. That was the least concern for Myra as she had more significant issues to solve, and the next moment she felt herself being dragged roughly out of the restroom.