#[cd]starter

Time: Around 10 p.m. Location: Hot Stuff Disco

Nicky was restless. His band mates well knew that was never a good mood to find him in. It generally meant the night could go either way. Sometimes, Nicky just decided to have an all out rager of a party and go hog wild. Other times it meant he was looking for a knock down, drag out brawl. Either option usually resulted in property damage. As it was, he hadn’t yet decided what he was in the mood for and so figured he might as well leave it up to random chance to decide. He’d already been drinking, because it was after dark (not that he needed that excuse) but he was only a little loose and had only popped a couple pills. Far too lucid, really, but at least it gave him the clarity to come up with a plan. 

Pushing open the doors of Hot Stuff Disco, Nicky was at least pleased to see that there were plenty of people there. He hated this kind of music, the light up dance floor and the stupid ball up top, but this would either work the way he wanted it to or people would get angry and Nicky was really up for either tonight. Approaching the bar, he leaned across and grabbed one of the bottles, not much caring which one. Ignoring the protests of the bartender, he opened the bottle and started to drink as he headed towards the DJ’s booth. He clearly stuck out in this place, with his leather and spikes as opposed to the colorful clothing people were wearing here. Nicky wasn’t shy about shouldering or pushing past people and the bottle was nearly half gone by the time he reached the DJ. Without giving the man much time to react, Nicky smashed the bottle, stole the microphone, and jumped up on the record players. 

“Right, who wants to have a proper fun party? Nicky Slick here and I’m gonna turn this place into rock city! My friends’ll be here soon to take over. Stay if you want a primo party, get the fuck out if you’re square!” Nicky practically yelled into the microphone, holding up the neck of the broken bottle, and grinned at the surprised crowd, waiting for the chaos to unfold.

Mari was in lower spirits than usual. Nothing seemed to excite her lately, the days rolled by slower than molasses, and with the next gig she due to see a whole week away, it seemed like her life was just emptiness. A tad melodramatic, but what was a girl to do? She lay sprawled across an empty pool table, one in the very far corner, that nobody was using. For some reason, lying here perfectly still, under the glare of halogen light, seemed to do the trick. Like some odd version of a therapist’s couch, it let her mind drift to nice places. Her drink sat beside her on the green velvet, a beer that was still two-thirds full.

She didn’t expect anyone to approach her here, all the way in the back, but in between clinks of balls hitting one another, the usual din of a pool hall, she heard footsteps that stopped in her vicinity. “If y’want the table, you can just play around me,” she said, without so much as opening her eyes.

“You got something to say? Or you just gon’ stare?” 

“You lookin’ for somebody?” she calls out. “You seem a little lost, there.”