The bass thumped through the walls of the club, vibrating up through the floors and into Mark’s boots.
Lights flashed in rapid, dizzying patterns — red, blue, white, a carousel of chaotic color — while the crowd packed the dancefloor, bodies swaying together in a frenzied mass.
Mark hated it the second he stepped inside.
The noise, the crowd, the smell of stale beer and cheap perfume — it crawled under his skin, setting his teeth on edge.
But Kyle seemed right at home.
He grinned wide, slinging an arm around Mark’s shoulders and steering him through the throng toward the bar.
"This is what you need, brother!" Kyle shouted over the pounding music. "Get you loosened up!"
Mark grimaced but allowed himself to be led, figuring he could nurse a drink or two and then make his escape.
Kyle
