Somewhere Nowhere Club Novels & Stories

The bouncers on the door are as seedy as all hell. I blow out a calming breath and walk in through the dark wood double doors in the dimly lit foyer. The club is large and has circular tables scattered throughout. The music is loud and sounds like Cumbia style. The place is about half full. I can see through an archway leading into another room and there are pool tables with low hanging lights hanging over them. My eyes scan the room for her. Where is she? Where the hell is she?

"I think I need to not think about this." "Of course," he said immediately, with the kind of easy agreement that made everything worse. "If that's what you want, we'll go." --- The club was in the basement of a building in town, dark and pulsing and exactly what I needed to disappear into. Callum introduced me to his friends—a group of local men and their girlfriends, all of them warm and welcoming in the way small communities were, the kind of people who invited strangers into their circle without suspicion. The music was loud. The lights were strobing. The bodies were close.

When my phone buzzes with his text, I'm sitting in my car three blocks from Stella's building, trying to decide if I should go back or give her space. The message is short: [The Underground den. He's there now.] I know The Underground den even though I ever been there myself, but I've heard about it. It's one of those places that exists in the shadows. Technically a private club. Practically a playground for every vice you can imagine. Perfect. I start the car and head toward the industrial district. --- The club is exactly what I expected. Expensive and seedy at the same time. All dark corners and plausible deniability.

The club was loud and annoying. Sweaty bodies swayed under dim lights, drowning in bass, smoke from pipes, and scent. Red and violet strobes painted half-naked limbs in flashes. Moans mixed with laughter. The air smelled like heat and perfume and desperation. Mark sat in the VIP lounge of The Sanctum, the club which was below Lucas's sex club, completely untouched by it all. His posture was perfect and proper. His expression unreadable. A glass of scotch sat untouched on the table in front of him.

I felt sick to my stomach watching the crowd of odd people, old and young from all over the world, rich and poor going in and out of this shady neighborhood. "Up on the left. Thank you." Noah tapped my arm and I realized a block that was renovated on both sides. A few cute lingerie boutiques. A steak house located next to a swanky Gentleman's club. Some people dressed up like animals? And then almost hidden like a speak easy, A sex club. Noah's sex club. It had no line or wait like the other places did. No bouncer that I could see. No light coming from the 3 story industrial building at all. It looked abandoned and yet brand new.

I hiss. She only smiles, triumphant. The club is called Atlas, because of course it is because everything wants to sound mythic when it’s selling darkness and lights. It’s not huge. Not chaotic. More lounge than dive, with a dance floor that fills slowly. Early enough that we can breathe. Music loud enough to press thoughts into the background. The moment we walk in, Dawson’s posture changes. A subtle tightening at his shoulders, the way his eyes scan exits and corners before he can stop himself. He catches me watching and forces a slow exhale, grounding.

Alex narrowed his eyes, but didn't disturb her, and instead, went behind his work table to sit and read through the document his assistant sent to him. The day passed like that with both doing what they liked. Peaceful. *** Music blasts out from a large building situated in the middle of the city. It was a high-end club, luxurious and mysterious and that club is named the Goose Club. The club has always been mysterious and has been said to be owned by one of the aristocratic families, but some said it was being backed by the underground world, because of the power it holds. There were so many rumours, but even after 5 years since the club was built, no one has found out who the real owner of

The sign 'Club Blade' glowed in red neon lights, welcoming us into a mysterious erotic world. Noah and I entered Club Blade, and instantly, the atmosphere enveloped us in an intriguing blend of mystery and sensuality. The pulsating beat of music reverberated through the air, its rhythm setting the pace for the evening's unknown adventures. Dim, crimson lights bathed the room in an alluring glow, casting shadows that danced with every movement.

The air hums with a silent energy, waiting for the night to ignite it. Keith leads me through the deserted club, pointing out various features. The main bar, crafted from onyx and illuminated from within. The state-of-the-art sound system, capable of transforming the space into a pulsating dance haven. The discreet VIP entrances, leading to private lounges where the real deals go down. "Impressive, isn't it?" he says, his eyes sparkling with pride. "It's incredible," I admit, my voice filled with genuine awe. "It's like... a different world."

My red little dress is long enough to cover the holster holding my gun and my switchblade knives securely. The cold night air hits me with force making goosebumps appear on my soft skin as I exit the comfort of my car. Adjusting my black long coat, I make my way to 'Moreno's Den' a club known for VIPs from the mafia and other famous business moguls. It's no place for the less fortunate, perfect for doing dirty because no one gives a fuck. I majestically step into the club with slow calculated steps making sure to add a sway on my hips as I examine the environment.