A Club Called Heaven

I remember the first time I saw this girl.

I didn’t actually meet her though.

My older brother, Gerard, had a friend of his that’s I’d never heard of, nor met, but went to art school with him and was having a party. And of course, I was dragged along.

“Fuck, there’s people.” I looked out the window of Gerard’s beat down ‘95 Escort.

“You’re point being?” he his eyebrows disappeared into the hair he so wished would’ve been naturally jet black, “I told you it was a party.” He killed the engine, grabbed the keys and got out of the car. I groaned and followed suit.

I slammed the door, “No – you said it was “a small get-together.” Air quotes included. “It’s fucking bursting at the seams with people, Gerard.” I flailed a hand in the distance. It was such “a small get-together” that we had to park a block away.

He waved me off, “Chill, Mikes,” he jabbed his thumb back into his Smiths – adorned chest, “I’m supposed to be the anti-social, creep artist. Besides, I want you to meet someone.”
I rolled my eyes and followed him down the block – the motherfucking block.

My pants are way too tight for all this walking, dude.

We arrived at the house, a huge one at that. I though artists were supposed to be starving. The music was pounding – Madonna. Ew. Gerard let himself in, “Rude.” I told him.

“Fuck you,” he mocked.

I looked around; “People were having sex on the dance-floor – but I was too sober for that. Balloons and streamers invaded the airspace, I could see people wasted already; it was only 9:00. I noticed Gerard had ditched me already and I sighed. It was the usual.

I wandered around, turning corners and avoiding excited, stumbling couples. I didn’t want to get in between that. I finally made it to the kitchen, there was an array of coolers blocking proper entrance so after hopping over them, and I made it to the sink.

I blew out; I was sweating already under my beanie. I pulled it off and ran a hand through my flat-ironed hair. All that work to “hang out with college kids”. College kids, my ass.

I grabbed a beer form the cooler that looked like it had the least chance of being spiked and walked back outside to the living room/dance-floor thingie. I bobbed my head to the beat a checked out a passing girl’s ass, till I was jerked away by the elbow. I turned around, who dares interrupt my view?

“God, Gerard. What do you want?” I rolled my eyes and swished the alcohol left in the can. A girl appeared beside him, almost half his height (which isn’t much). She had long, light brown hair up in a ponytail and smirking, full lips. But the most catching thing was her darling pair of eyeballs. One was on the verge of crystal clear and the other was a hazy shade of aqua.

I flicked my practically-blind eyes from Gerard to the pretty girl. “Oh!,” he got the message, “This is my friend, Tabbie. It’s her party.” He gestured toward her.

I nodded, “Will you cry if you want to?”

She laughed, revealing a set of perfect teeth. “So, you’re Mikey, right?”

I nodded, bored. She was probably another airhead Gee picked up; they seem to flock to him. “He’s told me a lot about you and I thought you’d like to meet my sister. She sounds a lot like you.”

At that point, I didn’t give a shit. She was boring me and a pretty girl had just crossed the foyer. Her hair was longer with a slight curl to it and down to her chest, darker, too. And, by the looks of it, she was tiny. I looked on it curiosity as the buzz from Tabbie’s voice served as white noise.

The girl was dressed in a baggy flannel blouse – green – and polka-dot skinny jeans. Her ears were heavily pierced and the jewelry shined in the reflection of strobe lights. She looked completely out of place as she weaved through groping masses and around bodies out cold. I could see she was dragging something around – a suitcase. A little one.

She made a face of effort as the wheels stuck on something and she jammed it out. In the split second, she turned in my direction and her face softened. I could see she had the biggest pair of blue eyes, like, ever, paired with the thickest, darkest lashes Gerard would be jealous of. They were hidden behind a pair of thick glasses and a confused expression. She was beautiful.

My mouth drooped open and I heard a clang and a splash at my feet. I wretched my gaze from hers and looked down to see that what little had been left of my beer had spilled onto the crotch of my pants. Laughter broke out and I could feel the heat rise to my face. Shit, even suitcase girl was giggling.

I shoved my way passed as still blabbering Tabbie and found my found my way to the bathroom. I opened the door only to find a half-naked threesome. They opened their mouths to protest.

“Get out.”

Their eyes widened and they collected their clothing, continuing their activities elsewhere. The one girl in the group giggle, obviously drunk. “Rape!” I yelled after them. They simply stumbled.

I turned to the mirror and saw that the stain had only grown in size. And it was really cold. I dug through cabinets and found a blow-dryer. And there I sat for another fifteen minutes.
I glanced at the clock; maybe I could still catch Suitcase Girl.

Or her name.

I opened the door and fumbled on down the hallway, the threesome still going at it. Damn, it was full-on orgy, now.

Disgusted, I carried on, shielding my eyes and looking for Suitcase Girl. I made it out onto the main area and looked around intently. A body crashed into me and I didn’t flinch. I sighed.

“Wasssusssp, Mikey-Wikey?” Gerard slurred thought drooping eyes and smudged eyeliner.

“Fuck you, Gee. Can’t you stay sober for one party?” I held by the shoulders.

His eyes widened, “B-but T-abbie dared me.” I glanced at an equally inebriated Tabbie in the corner, talking up the cactus on the windowsill. “She’s a good licker.” He wiggled his eyebrows and my lip curled back.

“Let’s get you home.”

“Okay!” he flung himself out of my arms and zoomed towards the front house. I searched the sea of faces once more, but no Suitcase Girl. I met Gerard back at the car and shoved him into the backseat, where he (thank God, we all know he’s a drunk talker) passed out promptly.

I backed out of the fucking “gated community” and saw a flash. I saw Suitcase Girl on a bicycle, with her suitcase in the basket.