"Cassie, please, why do we have to do this?" I pleaded, as my neurotic room-mate yanked me out of my bedroom with all her force.

Ignoring my question, she simply pointed to three dresses laid out across our couch and said, "Pick one."

"Oh, I can hardly decide when each one's sluttier than the next," I grumbled, rolling my eyes. "You pick one, I really don't care."

"Fine, this one," she said, picking out the one in the middle. It was a strapless gray mini-dress with a sequined top and a smooth satin bottom.

I shrugged and went inside, pulling off my bath robe and the towel turban over my head and slipping into my underwear, a strapless bra, and the dress. I dried my hair and put on some earrings and a pair of black pumps, just as Cassie yelled to say that we were leaving in five minutes.

I sighed as I stared at myself in the mirror. When did the bags under my eyes become so defined? I suppose this was what working all night would do to you. I supposed I could cover that up with makeup, but the idea of makeup as always just annoyed me. I settled for a thin line of eyeliner and a film of gloss over my lips and left my room.

"I'm ready. Let's go," I said, as Cassie unlocked the door and we both stepped out.

I know that I always give Cassie a hard time, but I really do love her and appreciate all she does for me. Who else would care that I was working myself to the bone and trying to stress myself out instead of dealing with my real problems?

I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to me as we walked down the street. We hailed a cab and got to the club within twenty-five minutes. We laughed like kids all through the ride, at random things as friends tend to do. She was trying her hardest to psych me up for the evening to follow, to ensure that I would have a good time. Not wanting to let her down, I played along as best I could. And somewhere along the way in the pretense, I actually started enjoying myself.

When we got into the club, we met some of our old college girlfriends and Cassie and the three girls hit the dance floor right away.

"I'm gonna get a drink, love," I yelled into Cassie's ear, giving her a wink.

I walked up to the bar, noticing that it was full of guys, all dressed in black. Not really paying much attention, I jostled to the front and called out to the bartender, "One scotch and soda, please."

"Right away, hon," the bartender called back.

I began to zone out and stare at the dance floor, trying to find my friends when I felt someone get extremely close to me. Turning to my right I saw a young guy, who couldn't be older than twenty-one smiling at me creepily.

Just great, I thought. Every single time I come to a club, which is not even something I enjoy to begin with, I get creeped on by random guys. It only adds to my distaste of "girls nights" and the likes of it.

"A woman who likes whiskey, I can drink to that," he slurred, giving me a vague smile that I'm sure was intended on his part to be seductive.

I laughed politely, and looked at the bartender, willing him to hurry up. Unfortunately, the group of boys in all black to my left had ordered first, and he seemed to still be making their drinks.

"I'm Connor, what's your name?"

Oh great...we're doing this? Yep. Okay, I thought. We're really doing the whole "let's introduce ourselves at the bar and try to get lucky" ordeal.

"Uh...I'm Olivia," I replied, not really looking the guy in his face.

I always got super awkward when random people hit on me. I tried to look for Cassie and the girls on the dance floor, but they seemed to be somewhere in the center of the circle of writhing bodies. Suddenly the crowd and the pulsating lights seemed like a bad idea to me.

Oh fuck it, I thought, as I plopped myself down on a bar stool. Unfortunately, Connor seemed to take this as some sort of a green signal from my side.

"So, what do you do?" he asked, smiling.

I gave him a polite smile, and said, as nicely as I could manage, "Look, Connor, don't get me wrong, but I'm not really here to do...this. Not to mention, I'm easily five years older than you, so..."

He shrugged, "I don't see why that's gotta be a problem," he said, hovering closer to me, until I could feel the hot stench of his breath on every bone of my face. I felt really dizzy.

"Okay, I'm gonna need to be drunk for this," I mumbled to myself, looking up at the bartender, trying to give him a frantic look.

"Sorry, hon, just a minute!" the bartender called out.

When I turned away from the bar, Connor was literally in my face and our faces collided in what one might call a semi-kiss, or a really awkward run-in.

Instinctively, I pushed him away, "Get off of me, man."

Realizing I had yelled louder than intended, I saw that everyone at the bar was staring at us. One of the boys from the group to my left came up to me, with a concerned look on his face.

"Hey, what's going on here? Are you alright?" he inquired.

"Yeah, delightful, thanks," I mumbled, grabbing my clutch from the bar-top and walking away.

I tried searching for Cassie for a few minutes, but I couldn't seem to see anyone I knew. I knew trying her phone would be in vain cause she was most likely lost in the loud crowd, so I decided to step out of the club for a few minutes.

It was particularly chilly outside, considering it was an April day in San Diego. For some reason, I discarded all my winter wear when I moved to California, assuming I wouldn't need it out here. It was moments like these that I greatly regretted it.

I walked far enough away from the club that I didn't have to hear the horrid music, but close enough that I was still in a busy area, so I wouldn't get mugged or what have you. I leaned against the closest wall to me, and I could feel the bass from the club thudding very lightly all around me. So much for keeping up the pretense of having a good time, but at least Cassie was having fun.

I started to drift away into thought when I heard a few faint footsteps a few feet away from me. It was two of the boys from the group at the bar, one of them was the guy who had asked me if I was alright. He lit up a cigarette and started smoking, and he and his friend started animatedly talking about something that I couldn't quite catch.

Suddenly, he looked over and caught me staring at him. I felt my face flush immediately and broke away from his glance, realizing that I probably looked like a lonesome freak staring at the two of them. When I dared look their way again, the guy was right beside.

"Hey, I really don't mean to freak you out, but are you okay?" he asked.

I nodded, not seeming to be able to find my words. Come on, self. Summon your words, I encouraged myself.

"Er, yeah, I-um, I'm really sorry. I was kind of nasty in there, I didn't mean to be rude. I was just really annoyed by, you know, the guy..."

He smiled, "Yeah, don't worry about it. You left your drink at the bar, you know? Scotch and soda. It's not often a girl orders one of those."

I laughed, "Are you typecasting women? Do you think we're only capable of drinking mocktails and vodka?" I said, looking at him quizzically.

He threw his hands in the air, "Look, all I'm saying is you're the first one I've come across."

I smiled up at him, and it was only then I realized how good-looking he was. He seemed to be pretty heavily inked, though I couldn't tell entirely because he had a full-sleeved shirt on. On his neck I could see a tattoo that said "Heart & Soul" with some indistinguishable etches around it.

He caught me staring and smirked, "I'm not a hoodlum, I swear."

"There you go, judging me again. What makes you think I don't have some of my own?" I challenged him.

He smiled, "Well, how about you come back in and drink your drink? You already paid for it...let's not let good scotch go to waste."

I bit my lip, weighing the possibilities. I was so relieved when I left the club, yet somehow going back inside with this random guy (whose name I didn't know yet) seemed like a good idea. I nodded slowly and we headed back inside. We headed for the bar and we both sat down next to each other and clinked our glasses.

"Here's to...your face not being molested again this evening, or ever again," he said.

"Amen," I laughed, and took a huge swig.