Alpha's Sacrifice

NYX Sometimes my life choices can be considered as a form of self-sabotage. Take today, for example; I am out in the freezing winter with a flimsy black dress, six-inch pointy stilettos, and a jacket that does absolutely nothing to keep out the cold. After a long week of giving dance lessons to unruly teenagers, with my only motivation being a ton of coffee and the Friday when I will finally be able to sleep in with a good book and weighted blankets. My roommate barged into my room while I was getting ready to do just that with an outrageous offer. "Good, you just showered. We’re going out," Stella announced with a glint in her eyes that dared me to deny her. “Umm, I don’t know who this ‘we’ is that you speak of.” “You, Nyx. Me, Stella,” she said in a tone that affirmed that no wasn’t an answer as she poked me and then poked herself, “we are going out.” “First of all, I am getting ready for bed,” I said as I took cautious steps to walk around her to get to my bookshelf. “And secondly, I already made plans.” She plucked the book that I managed to hold onto out of my hands and pushed me towards my closet. “Reading books is not a plan, and you have the whole of next week to rest. It would be fun. Trust me.” She said the last part with a mischievous smirk. I didn’t trust her one bit. I struggled against her, refusing to get into the closet. “Stella, I’m really tired right now,” I whined, not really getting any result. “I had classes booked the entire week, and I just want a break.” Her face was firm, and she seemed like she wasn’t letting me up. “Yeah, yeah. Only a few hours. I promise you would be back by midnight.” Her tone told me that we would definitely not be back by midnight. “What am I, Cinderella?” I joked, still not making any move to get dressed. “You might as well be,” she responded laughing, “seeing as you need a Fairy Godmother like me to get you to a Prince Charming.” “There would be no Prince Charming,” I said seriously. I can’t believe I was contemplating going out. “Okay, okay.” She conceded pushing me into the closet. “Now shoo, get changed, I would call for an Uber.” I would like to brag that she had to persuade me even more to get me into the tiny mini tulle dress I had on and out of the house, but I didn’t need that much of a push. While my job left me both physically and emotionally drained, I would still prefer going out than staying indoors and feeling lonely all evening. It’s not that I am complaining; I loved my job, but even that was a distraction from how incomplete my life felt. I have always felt like there was still something I lacked. I shivered as I drew my leather jacket tightly around myself. I could barely feel my fingertips and toes; my glasses kept sliding down my nose. Safe to say I was grandiosely frustrated. The dim glow of neon lights outside cast an otherworldly hue on the bustling London streets. Stella, my lively friend and roommate, rambled on beside me, her words blending with the distant sounds of city life. A quick glance at her, with her vibrant purple hair illuminated by a flickering streetlamp, revealed her genuine excitement for the night ahead. I felt a bit guilty because I am barely listening to a word she is saying. “Nyx?” I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Huh? Yeah?” I stuttered, snapping out of my trance-like state. “What are you dreaming about? It’s like you’re here but not here,” she joked, but I didn’t miss the concern in her eyes. “What does that even mean?” I asked, laughing. “I’m serious; you just stood here staring into nothing,” she leaned closer to me. “Are you okay?” “Of course, pfft. I am fine,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes at how ridiculous she was being. “The energy here is so weird; it feels otherworldly but not in a scary way,” I raised an eyebrow at her comment. Stella always believed that other forces were at work in the universe. I found her paranormal fascination endearing most times. “I just mean I would understand that you feel weird.” “I don’t feel weird.” At least not because of the energy, I thought to myself. But Stella’s observation was not far off. There was something about the air that I couldn’t place a finger on. “I am just a bit cold.” “Oh, we would get into the club soon. You would be complaining about how hot it gets soon enough,” she looked visibly relaxed now that she knew I wasn’t regretting coming out with her. “Speaking of the club. I hope we get to see the owner. He is so hot,” she was making a fanning gesture with her hands. “And don’t get me started on the staff. It’s like the place was originally supposed to be a host club, then the management had a change of heart.” Stella continued her rant, and I tried my best to give her my attention. As we shuffled forward in the line, Stella's animated chatter provided a welcome distraction from the biting cold. Her excitement was infectious; all feelings of the weirdness she mentioned earlier seemed to not faze her as much, and I couldn't help but think going to the club wasn't a bad idea in the end. “Oh my God, we are so close, Nyx!” Stella squealed excitedly. I smiled slightly in response. As we got closer to the end of the line, the music from the club became louder. I could feel the vibrations of the beat under my feet and all over my skin. I haven’t been to a club since my early college years, and I have forgotten how exhilarating it felt. We had about a handful of people in front of us now. I could finally make out some of the Bouncer’s words. He let two people in, sent back five teenagers, and another man who didn’t have a ticket. “Who even asks for a ticket to enter a club?!” he yelled, trying to cause a scene. I agree with him, though. The entire ticket thing was dumb. But then again, there’s no one to blame but Capitalism. Finally, it was our turn. “Hello, my name is Stella, and this is Nyx,” my ever-extroverted roommate introduced us to the burly bouncer. “Hello, IDs please?" he said dryly, a bored expression rested on his face. Stella nudged my arm. "Oh, sorry," I mumbled, fishing my tiny purse for my ID and handing it over to him. He checked our IDs and ripped our tickets apart. "Welcome to De Luna," he said, giving us back our IDs and two armbands. Armbands secure, Stella took my hand and pulled me through the door. The moment we got into De Luna, I was prepared for the onslaught of music. The heavy bass pounded in my ears and resonated through my body until it was a part of me. The beats thumped so loudly you felt them in your chest. The place was a riot of colors – neon lights dancing on the walls, reflecting off every glossy surface, most of the walls were covered with mirrors, and in the middle of the hall hung a crescent-shaped disco light. The dance floor was a madhouse, people moving in a chaotic yet synchronized rhythm. It was like stepping into a fever dream , where reality blurred, and the night took on a life of its own.