Chapter4
1309 Words
Lesley arrives at a lavish residence. Just her luck, a party full of the affluent. The yard is swarming with attendees, and every light in the house is ablaze. The music is deafening as she parks her car and steps out. As she strolls through the garden, she surveys the scene. Despite the host's wealth and the grandeur of the party, the guests are anything but high society.
A smile tugs at her lips as she observes three women wrestling in a mud pool, people lounging lazily around the swimming pool, and even someone leaping off the roof into the pool. She navigates through the crowd, blending in perfectly, just as she prefers. She catches sight of a couple in a corner, clearly engaged in a passionate encounter. The host and the venue may be upscale, but their standards are evidently not. As she steps into the house, the sound of raucous laughter and chanting greets her. She meanders through the rooms, snagging a drink en route.
Most would feel out of place in a setting where they don't know a single soul, but Lesley is unfazed. She doubts even the host knows everyone present. She spots a group of men engaged in a knife-throwing game at a cutout.
Her attention is drawn to the sound of catcalls, and she chuckles when she sees a man ascending the stairs with a woman slung over his shoulder. The woman is laughing and playfully grabbing his rear as he proceeds. Lesley shifts her focus back to the men throwing knives. She weaves her way through the cheering crowd, predominantly men, and rolls her eyes.
She slaps money down on the table, instantly drawing everyone's attention. The men chuckle as if she's made a joke.
"Scared you'll be beaten?" she challenges the man who's been winning, judging by the bulging wad of cash in his shirt pocket.
"No, sweetheart, I just didn't want you running to your boyfriend in tears when I win and take your money," he retorts smugly. Lesley decides to raise the stakes.
"How about we use a live target instead of the cutout? The one who gets closest to hitting the target without actually striking them wins?" He laughs at her proposition.
"As if anyone would agree to that." He's right, most people wouldn't dare, but he might.
"You start, I'll be your target, then you'll be mine." She strides over to the wall, stands there with her hands on her hips, and waits. The crowd starts chanting 'do it' and erupts in screams as he picks up the knives.
"You're quite the daredevil, aren't you?" He hurls the knife, and she laughs.
"Are you apprehensive that you might accidentally hit me with one of those knives? Maybe I should position myself a bit closer to the target, so your next throw might actually come close to hitting me?" His expression is one of surprise. "I did specify 'closest', and believe me, I fully intend to get very close to you." Lesley observes as he throws the next two knives. One of them comes dangerously close, but not close enough to secure a win.
"Now it's my turn." She extracts the knives from the wall, and the room fills with laughter as he readies himself to be her target. The room, and indeed the entire house, descends into a hushed silence. She notices that even those outside have paused their conversations to watch through the window. They're all expecting her to hit him. She hurls one knife after another in quick succession, and he clenches his eyes shut, his body rigid with tension.
She manages to land one knife between his legs, narrowly missing his jeans, one next to his face, and one perilously close to his neck. The room explodes into cheers and screams as he looks down and realizes just how close she came.
"Damn." He glances back at her as she saunters over and retrieves the knife lodged between his legs.
"You win, I won't even attempt to argue with that." He hands over the pile of money. "Most guys here can't beat me even when we're using a cutout, next time, I won't go easy on you."
"Oh, you were going easy on me?" She laughs, and he nods in affirmation.
"I didn't want to completely trounce you, next time, I won't hold back." She laughs again and nods in understanding.
"I'm Lesley." She decides it's time to introduce herself.
"James, it's a pleasure to meet you, Lesley. I hope to see you around. Now, I have to get back to winning more money."
She nods in acknowledgment, turns, and begins to weave her way through the throng of people. Each room has a different vibe, each one hosting some sort of game or betting activity. She finds the room where everyone is dancing and seamlessly blends into the crowd. She relishes the anonymity, the ability to fly under the radar.
She notices a girl standing alone, nursing a drink. A few people walk past and snicker at her. Lesley admires her style, it's not something she would choose for herself, but she appreciates it nonetheless. The girl is dressed in the style of a pin-up girl. Lesley navigates her way through the crowd towards her.
"Hey." She smiles and leans against the wall next to her. "I'm Lesley. It's nice to meet you." The girl seems like an introvert, someone who prefers her own company.
"I'm Eve." She extends her hand, but Lesley declines it and instead pulls her into a warm embrace.
"Give me the lowdown on everything. I'm new in town, so I could use some local chatter." Eve laughs and intertwines her arm with Lesley's. They meander through the party, sipping their drinks and sharing laughter, as Eve provides Lesley with a rundown of the local crowd.
She details everyone's occupations, who's still in school, who's employed. Lesley finds herself thoroughly enjoying the evening, filled with laughter and amusement. She agrees to meet up with Eve at her workplace the next day. Eve works at a bar, so Lesley can visit her before her first night of dancing. She keeps catching glimpses of James, and she can't deny his attractiveness.
Eve slips away to fetch more drinks, and Lesley watches as James makes his way towards her. He stops just before reaching her, but Lesley isn't in the mood for conversation. Instead, she pulls him onto the dance floor and starts dancing with him. Her back is pressed against his chest as she moves rhythmically, her body grinding against his. His hands keep her firmly against him.
"Your friend seems to be in a bit of a predicament," he whispers in her ear. Lesley looks up to see Eve, with a guy attempting to grope her. Lesley extricates herself from James and strides over to Eve, pushing the guy back.
"Lay a hand on her again, and you'll have to deal with me, and it won't be pleasant!" Lesley shoves him away from Eve, and he stumbles before falling over, eliciting laughter from the crowd. Lesley watches as he struggles to regain his footing, shooting her a glare, clearly ready to start a confrontation. James steps in between them.
"Drop it, you're intoxicated, mate," James advises him, maintaining his position between them. Lesley watches as the guy stumbles off. Eve is clearly more intoxicated than Lesley.
"I need to get her home," Lesley informs James, and he nods in agreement.
"Sure thing, sugar butt, hope to see you around sometime." He chuckles and saunters off.
Lesley supports Eve as she helps her to her car, then drives her home. She escorts Eve to her door and ensures she's safely inside and has locked the door before heading home herself. She enjoys a few more drinks alone before succumbing to sleep.
- Writer
