4 Tipsy-Turvy
Six months have passed since Trix broke up with Rafael. The first couple of weeks were rough; Trix felt like she'd entered a new universe, one of eternal coldness, where the land was covered with frozen tears.
Her friends encouraged her to go out and find a new guy. But a new guy wasn't what Trix needed. It wasn't a good idea to start a new relationship just to get over a broken one.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months until Trix had to come to terms with the fact that Rafael had moved on.
She tried to do the same but it was easier said than done.
Today, Olympia had dragged Trix into the Tipsy Turvy, a bar in St. George Terrace. Trix felt out of place and a little uncomfortable in her Pikachu onesie. She wondered briefly how she had possibly allowed herself to be talked into going. Ah, their other friend Jessica was also going through something of her own.
The night was getting crazier by the second, with people of all races and varying ages talking, drinking and dancing 'til their feet grew blisters. Hips grind to the loud music as the scent of alcohol filled Trix' nostrils.
Music boomed all over the club, drowning the huge crowd. Everyone slid their bodies up and down each other to the hypnotizing beat under colorful lights.
It was a Saturday night, so naturally, all the hot clubs are packed. Single young professionals nestled up to round tables and order cocktails.
Jessica and Pauline were already seated at the dark corner and waved when Olympia and Trix walked in.
"Trix, seriously?" Pauline asked, pointed to Trix' jumpsuit with her manicured finger.
"Olympia told me it was a slumber party. Give me a break, okay?" Trix responded, with a slightly irritated tone.
"You didn't want to leave your house until I told you it was," Olympia said. "Come on, it's been a while since we've had a girls' night."
Trix blew out a frustrated sigh and waited for the bartender to take her order of frozen Margarita.
Pauline, their 38-year-old Aussie friend who looked more like a bouncy 18-year-old, ordered something stronger: a Gun Powder shot. Olympia, on the other hand, ordered a Long Island Iced Tea. Tons of alcohol made it taste great. The Kiwi Jessica ordered a Screw Driver, invoked her right to be allowed to make her own decisions - risks be damned.
"Don't judge me. I don't have an unhealthy relationship with alcohol. I just want to celebrate because our gang's complete! A drink or two would be harmless."
"Just a drink or two," Trix reiterated.
"Trixie, you need to order more of that," encouraged Olympia. "You aren't having a good time."
Trix sipped her Margarita and studied her pretty friend's face. She was a terrific girl who had the world by the tail. She'd always wrapped just about every man around her finger before leaving them. It only took one look at her to know that she was the go-getter type. Definitely not housewife-with-children material.
"Are you still hung up on your ex? He's a cheater, Trix! Get over it!" Pauline almost yelled. The music inside the club was so loud that they couldn't even hear themselves. "There's a lot of fish in the ocean. You deserve someone better." She flicked her fingers and ordered another round for them.
"So, what happened when you told Scott that you're pregnant?" Olympia asked Jessica.
Jessica's head dropped to the floor. "He didn't want the baby. He wants me to get rid of it."
"What?" Olympia spat out her drink.
"He's an asshole, I know."
Trix snorted. "Well, that was given."
"I'm such a foo—"
"What the fuck?" Pauline interrupted Jessica. "We were supposed to be having a blast but now you're talking about your man without balls!" She looked at Trix and added, "and your cheater ex. Damn, you're such a loser. Get the fuck over it!"
Oh no…she didn't say that.
Trix chugged down her drink and stretched to her full height. "Well excuse me for ruining your night! Apparently, we're not here to get all shit-faced drunk to screw random guys after finding out my boyfriend who is married with two kids is getting back with his wife."
Pauline tossed back the Gun Powder shot the bartender prepared for her, loaded with Bacardi and Sambuca, topped with a dash of cinnamon. It was quite literally a fiery concoction. The bartender covered the rim of the glass to kill the flame, trapping the fumes with a napkin. He handed Pauline a straw and instructed her to suck on the fumes.
"Woah!" Pauline yelped. She turned to Trix. "Well, excuse me for trying to make this a fun night."
"That's enough!" Olympia snarled.
Trix, Jessica and Pauline jumped at her outburst.
"I'm tired of all your whining and bitching. Lately that's all I've been hearing and I'm so fucking sick of it! So, this is what we are going to do. All of us heading to the dance floor to dance our asses off all fucking night long. Got it?"
Olympia's sudden outburst rendered the three momentarily silent, and Trix avoided her eyes. She felt as though she was a scorned child.
Olympia waited for them to answer. "Well?"
The three of them finally answered Olympia, "Fine."
Olympia grabbed all three of her friends by the elbow and dragged them to the dance floor. They were going to dance their collective rage away if it was the last thing she'd make them do.
So the four women danced, reveled in the attention of the occasional stranger but never let them linger for very long. They were quite the sight—a quartet of beautiful women together, laughing, dancing and yelping, previous cattiness all but forgotten.
Trix grinned at Pauline, squeezed her with a sideways hug while Jessica bobbed her head to the music with a crazy smile on her face.
"Hey everyone!" A cheerful voice announced, cutting through the music. "Stop whatever you're doing because tonight we have a special guest in the house!"
"I need to pee," Trix said loudly into Olympia's ear.
"I'm coming with you!" Olympia replied, following her.
People screamed and shouted, jumped up and down to the rhythm of the music. Jessica and Pauline moved to the front of the stage for a better view. Something was about to happen, all right.
The music continued to thump as the lights flash all over. The excitement in the room reached a new frenzy, fueled by booze flowing freely from bottles.
Trix stepped out of the washroom in time to catch the action taking place on the stage. Shrieks filled the air when a man came out from behind the curtains, clad in a slim fitting white shirt and a ripped pair of jeans.
The screaming increased as he strolled down the stage and shook hands with people in the audience.
The women cheered. "Take it off! Take it off!"
The man shook his head 'no' but the women screamed even louder.
The crowd pressed on. "Take it off! Take it off!"
This time, the man didn't disappoint. He took off his shirt, left only his pants on as he paraded his stuff on stage.
The women yelled like wild cats. Trix observed all this from a safe distance, on a seat at the bar to rest her tired feet. She could barely hear what the guy on the stage was saying because of the loud music and ear-piercing screams.
"Wow we just came from the washroom, and suddenly it's 'Magic Mike'?"Olympia appeared by Trix' side. "C'mon, let's join the girls."
"I'll just stay here. My feet hurts."
Olympia sighed and resigned herself to accompany Trix, admiring the shirtless guy from a distance.
Trix' eyes traveled over the man's torso and down over his flat stomach. She stared at the rigid muscles of his chest and his tight abs. With her curious eyes on this man up there on stage, shirtless with tiny beads of sweat running down his slick abs, Trix felt her core grow slick with moisture. Her palms suddenly became warm and tingly.
Who the fuck is this guy?
