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Rachel gave a sudden squeal and embraced her tall companion, 'Oh Frankie, I am so fucking excited!' She glanced around the people ahead of her to see how much longer they would have to wait in the queue.
'Yeah, you're lucky I love you girl, we been standing here for a fuckin' hour,' he replied gruffly, but planting a kiss on the top of her head all the same.
'Just wait, it is gonna be sick!'
She was uncharacteristically galvanised over a simple club. Frank wondered why the damn place was so exciting for her. They'd been to a hundred of them, and to him, they were all the same.
He usually only went because he could sell to a larger clientele but this time, he was just being with his girl. No business, just pleasure.
'So remind me how long we gotta stay here, baby,' Frank, holding Rachel close to him.
'Until the molly wears off!' she replied, smiling up at him. Seeing his expression of distaste, she hastily corrected herself, 'I'm joking! Only a couple of hours, or sooner, if you get lucky.' She gave him a saucy wink and squished him in her arms.
As much as he hated going to these show off clubs, Frank would do most anything for Rachel. So when she told him about the club, gushing with excitement, he agreed to book a hotel room and travel to Philadelphia.
What he didn't realise until they booked the plane tickets was that the flight took over five fucking hours. Five hours! He was still pissed off about it. He'd had to ask Max to look in on Pompidou, who, luckily, readily agreed.
Fuckin' five hour flight, what the fuck , he thought.
Finally, the queue started moving until the pair were standing at the front.
'Ooh, check it out, velvet!' Rachel said, rubbing the rope in front of them, earning herself a disdainful look from the bouncer guarding the club's entrance.
'Fuckin' velvet, who fuckin' cares, it can't be that great.' Frank replied grumpily.
' Frankiiiiiie , please, stop being so god damn pouty!' she replied, giving him a little push. 'You promised me a good time, so you gotta let go and enjoy yourself.'
'Yeah, I know, sorry baby.' he apologised, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. Exhaling noisily, he said, 'You know I don't usually go in for these sorts of things.'
'I know you don't, sweetheart, I do appreciate you bringing me here,' Rachel said, plucking the cigarette from his fingers and taking a drag.
'As long as you have fun, baby, that's all that matters.' he said.
The bouncer unclipped the rope in front of them, standing back to let them inside.
Rachel gave a little squeal again, chucking the cigarette butt into the street, and pulled Frank behind her to enter the club.
It was a lot bigger than it looked on the outside, the entrance hall was massive, huge columns supporting a large domed ceiling, leading into the dance floor and bar.
Walking down the hall, Frank picked up snatches of conversations held in French and German.
'This place is fulla fuckin' euro trash, Rach!' he griped to her, making a face.
'Ooh la la mon petit cheri, j'adore,' his girlfriend laughed, 'What's wrong with Europeans ? They get just as fucked up as we do, maybe even more, we are not going to be out of place here.'
'Yeah, speakin' of,' he said, reaching into his jacket's inside pocket and pulling out a small plastic bag and palming it to her discreetly. 'Here's your parachute sweetheart – you got water?'
'Yup! I'm gonna fly to the ladies real quick, will you wait for me?' Rachel slipped the drugs into her shorts pocket and skipped off.
Frank walked her sway her way to the ladies, marvelling at her. I am so fuckin' lucky to be with her, she's so god damn perfect.
Entering the bathroom, Rachel noted it was empty. She went into a cubicle, pulled out the MDMA wrapped in its little parachute and placed it on her tongue. She unscrewed her water bottle and swallowed a mouthful to wash it down. Down the hatch! She giggled, she wasn't even high yet and she felt so good. She wanted to dance with her Frankie.
Stepping out of the cubicle, she took a look at herself in the mirror, smoothing down her blonde hair, leaning closer to inspect her eyeshadow, smudging it just a bit more.
As she stepped back, another women entered the bathroom. She had short brown hair and was wearing a red shirt and black skirt. Rachel thought the whole outfit was pretty conservative for a club like this. Shrugging her shoulders internally, she took one last fleeting look in the mirror and left to catch up with Frank.
When she got back to him he was agitatedly looking around. When he caught sight of her, he visibly relaxed.
'What's wrong, Frankie?' she asked, concerned.
'Some guy just fuckin' tried to get me to dance with him!'
Rachel laughed, 'What, seriously?! Oh angel, I never knew you were so flirtatious!'
'It wasn't my fuckin' idea,' he growled, 'I told him to fuck off.'
She laughed again at the image of some guy asking her Frank to dance. It was probably the first time any guy ever did anything like that, and was surely to be the last.
'Come on, forget that shit, let's go dance!' she said, pulling him towards the dance floor. 'You done babe?'
'Yeah, yeah, I took mine while I was waitin' for you.'
They walked towards the heaving crowd of dancers, feeling the excitement and heat of the night. On their left, they noticed a roped off VIP section, with a guy who was holding court, clearly the club owner. He was decked out in a zebra print suit, shades covering his eyes, shirt unbuttoned to display his medallion.
'Yo, check out that fuckin' jacket,' Frank said, nudging Rachel.
'Woah, do you think he shot that zebra himself?' she giggled in response. 'I bet he's the boss, that's why he can wear that and no one can say shit to him. And who wears sunglasses in a fucking club?'
'Fuckin' douchebags, that's who.' Frank said as the guy watched the two women who were kissing in front of him.
As they were watching, Rachel noticed the woman from the bathroom walking towards the VIP section.
'Hey,' she said, nudging Frank, 'I saw her in the bathroom. She's torn her skirt to make it shorter!'
'What the fuck you talkin' about Rach?' he asked, looking confused.
'I'm serious! I saw her in the bathroom, I thought her outfit was pretty boring and I guess she thought so too. She wasn't showing her tits before and now she is, and her skirt is way fucking shorter!' Rachel said.
'An' why the fuck would she do that?' Frank asked, sounding unconvinced.
They both continued to watch her, and were amused to see her climbing a top a small dance cube next to the VIP s.
'She's dancing for him, look!' Rachel couldn't believe it. The woman was dancing as though she was really trying to get the guy's attention, but wanting to appear aloof. To Rachel's astonishment, the club owner pushed the two kissing women away and motioned to his bouncer to bring the dancing queen over.
'Well, looks like it fuckin' worked.' Frank remarked, caught up in the drama.
The women went with the bouncer to join the club owner. He was all over her as soon as she sat down. Rachel didn't think there was any possible way that the woman was interested in the dull looking guy, but she was responding to his advances.
Soon, they were both getting up and walking together to a flight of stairs that Rachel guessed led to the owner's office.
'Well, shit,' said Frank, laughing. 'Maybe I'll buy a club, seems a pretty good way to get broads.'
'Hey!' Rachel retorted, punching him on the arm, 'Did you forget your wonderful, sweet, dangerous girlfriend standing right next to you?'
'Rach, when I've got you, why would I even need to look at anyone else ever again?' he replied, softening and giving her a gentle kiss on her forehead.
'All right, enough of this sappy shit,' she smiled, squeezing his hand, 'I feel that shit kicking in, can't you?'
Frank nodded in agreement.
'Then let's dance, baby!'