The club is blinding and nearly deafening when I emerge from the box. I stagger around the bar, looking for someone to point me towards a restroom, but the bartenders are all preoccupied. I spot Noah and Alex pressed tightly against the bar, waiting to be served, but the crowd between us is insurmountable. After a few minutes of confusion, I finally see a tiny sign indicating the women's restroom is just around the corner. When I make it down the hallway, I quickly handle my business and soon find myself staring into the mirror with the sink faucet still running. I look around the bathroom, scanning for signs of life, and I recognize that I feel odd, watched almost. A light chill runs down my spine, and my stomach turns with a flash of anxiety. I shake my head dismissively. I'm fine, I'm j
