ANYTA'S POV
The bass in the club was alive. Like a physical entity, thumping against my ribs and vibrating through the soles of my feet until I felt like I was constantly being pumped full of adrenaline and buzz.
The club itself was a sea of gyrating bodies, expensive perfume, and the sharp, antiseptic bite of expensive vodka.
We'd had dinner at some local restaurant that Laura saw online and wanted to try it. The food turned out really good, and I'd made a mental note to come back
“If this drink were any stronger, I’d be able to see the future,” Laura shouted over the roar of the booming speakers as she slid a tray of shimmering green shots across the high-top table.
“And in the future, Anyta, you will humour me by at least dancing on a table while I record it for, I'd go viral.”
I
