Coffin of a Girl I Knew

Sometimes, after a big show, a couple of the models who participated would get together and have an afterparty of sorts. Gretchen had always despised them because of all the drama that usually went along with them. But despite that, she always went to them. She had always figured that after a long day of anxiety, she deserved a drink. Or two. Or ten.

Tonight was no different. She found herself in Calli’s apartment later that night, after the anxiety-filled show, preparing for a night out. Gretchen stood beside Calli in her small bathroom. They stood in front of the mirror, Gretchen watching as Calli applied her makeup.

“Aren’t you going to get ready, Grym?”

Gretchen looked down to her slim body and assessed herself, her two-sizes-too-big Alice Cooper shirt hanging loosely and her jeans fitting tightly. “I thought I was ready…” she answered, modestly. “And would you stop calling me that?” Gretchen said, referring to her nickname, Grym. Since she was little, everyone had called her that. It was a combination of her first name and middle and last initials. Her brother had thought it up one day and everyone had thought it suited her, so it stuck. So much so that it became her stage name, per se.

Calli laughed. “If you dislike it so much, why do you let everyone else call you that?”

“I just prefer if you would call me Gretchen. I feel it’s more personal. Or would you like me to call you your full name all the time, dearest Callisto?”

“Okay, Gretchen. Better?”

Gretchen rolled her eyes. “You ready to go yet?”

“In a few. Hold on! We’re in no hurry,” Calli said, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. “How do I look?”

“Gorgeous, as always. Typical model.” Gretchen laughed.

“Oh shut up, you atypical model. Let’s go.”

They grabbed their bags and headed off to the club one of the other models had chosen. The walk was short, considering Calli had an apartment in the middle of the city. When they got there, it was obvious it was not what Calli was expecting.

“Where the hell are we?” Calli asked, bewildered.

Gretchen looked around and found a discreet sign above an equally discreet door. The Underground, it read.

“The Underground, I guess.”

“Well, no shit Sherlock. I just thought we were going somewhere… I don’t know… More popular?”

“Looks can be deceiving, my dear,” some passerby said, continuing into the building.

“Well? Shall we go in?” Gretchen asked.

Calli nodded and they entered the establishment. The stranger had been right. In this case, looks were deceiving. Inside, the building was pretty stylish. In a dark, mysterious kind of way. Exactly the type Gretchen liked.

As soon as they entered the main room, Gretchen and Calli were greeted by a fellow model, Perri. She ushered them over to where all the other girls were seated, at a giant circular booth around a big, oak table in a dark corner. As soon as they got through the VIP gate, they took their places at the table.

“Order what you want, guys. It’s on me,” Perri told them.

Both Calli and Gretchen ordered some fruity, brightly colored vodka drink, which arrived within moments of ordering it. As they sipped on it, they chatted amongst themselves.

Gretchen giggled, looking towards the scantily clad dancers up on their pedestals, the only bright lights in the room directed upon them. “How the hell have I never heard of this place before?” she asked. “It’s like… my paradise.”

“You’re drooling,” Calli said, jokingly.

“I know I am,” Gretchen said, not necessarily joking.

Gretchen stared a few moments longer, admiring the way the dancers could move their bodies. So fluidly and sexily and right to the beat of the music. But she was soon distracted by Calli.

“Who is that?” Calli asked, pointing to a group just coming in the door. It was a few men surrounded by a group of women. They were making their way towards the VIP gate, to the table next to theirs.

“I don’t know, I can’t tell,” Gretchen replied, trying to get a peek of the supposed VIP. It was no use. They were too heavily surrounded. The mob around them was relentless and the lighting in the club didn’t work to her advantage. It was too dark to see much.

After they got through the gate, the crowd died down a bit. Most of the women had not been allowed through except for a select few of the bunch. Gretchen tried even harder to see who it was, but it was still no use. She guessed she probably wouldn’t have known who they were, regardless. She didn’t really keep up to date with mainstream celebrities. She shrugged, gulped down the rest of her drink, and quickly ordered her and Calli another.

“To a shitty day of work and a glorious night of debauchery!” Gretchen toasted. They enthusiastically clinked their glasses, Gretchen almost spilling her drink everywhere. As she licked the bitter liquid off of her fingers, her ears perked at the sound of something familiar.

“I love this song!” she shouted as the Nine Inch Nails song, Closer, started blaring out of the speakers. She chugged down the remnants of her drink and rushed out to the VIP dance floor, beckoning for someone to come with her. She knew Calli wouldn’t follow her; typically she wouldn’t dance unless she was completely intoxicated. Instead, Perri eagerly joined her. It surprised Gretchen because she and Perri had never been very close. She figured it was just the alcohol. Oftentimes it made her more agreeable.

This particular instance made Gretchen realize why she actually did love this club scene sometimes. She felt free to do as she pleased. The beat of the song pounded in her chest and she moved along with it. She always got into the music when she was dancing, it wasn’t hard for her to do.

Perri squeezed in close to her, through the people in the crowd. Apparently, she was great at getting into the music too; the look in her eyes said it all. She danced, her trim body moving perfectly to the beat. Soon enough, Gretchen and Perri were dancing together in a risqué manner. Something that definitely wasn’t meant for children’s eyes; more and more R-rated by the moment. They continued to dance in that manner until the song ended. Perri and Gretchen stopped dancing and regained their composure. Gretchen, wiping the sweat from her brow, walked back to the table with Perri trailing right behind her. The other girls at the table, including Calli, wolf whistled (among other things), calling out their suggestive dancing.

As she neared the table of her accompanying party, Gretchen was sidetracked. When she walked by the table the mysterious men had sat at, she heard more whistling. She looked over to them and they smirked, eying her up and down. Noticing the dirty looks she got from their female company, she grinned at the men mischievously. She liked the attention she got.

While she had the chance, she made sure to get a good look at the men so she could report back to Calli, who had been so curious as to who they were. She wasn’t sure, but one of them looked vaguely familiar though she couldn’t pinpoint who it was. With one final look, she proceeded to her seat at the booth. As she sat, she noticed Calli had ordered her another drink. She eyed it, thirsty as hell and nearly devouring it with her eyes. With absolutely no restraint, she picked it up and drank it’s entire contents in one sitting.

“Whoa there, girl. You want to kill yourself? Cause you will, drinking that quickly,” Calli remarked.

“I don’t seek death, I seek destruction,” Gretchen mumbled, as she tried vigorously to get the last drop of liquid at the bottom of the glass.

“Here, have another,” a voice from above spoke, as if the gods were telling her to consume more. Suddenly, an arm reached around her shoulder and sat a drink on the table before her. She looked back at the supplier of the beverage. It was one of the men from the other table.

“Oh, Brian!” Perri shouted over the music. “You. Trent. Join us!”

Enter: death and destruction.