Bonnie Lawrence had always believed that she was destined for one thing: to be forgotten.
When a demon attempts to murder her for this very reason-she starts to resent that statement.
And the two men that saved her may just have the answers to her...
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"Oi, can you move out the way?"
The shout had come so close to her that Bonnie almost spilled the lukewarm drink in her hand for the umpteenth time that night. She'd forgotten how sweaty and packed clubs were, especially on a student night. It also didn't help that they'd got to the club just after one o'clock, and the rest of its occupants had clearly been drinking for a good few hours before. Stepping to the side, she apologised loudly to the person, making sure she could be heard over the thumping music. A yelp escaped her as he shoved past without another word, and she quickly threw her drink back in an attempt to loosen up more, wondering how people could attend places like this sober.
At first when she'd seen the outfit Gremory had given her, she'd worried that it wasn't nice enough to be out in, but as she watched a girl go past in a t-shirt dress and trainers, she was grateful for the comfortable flares. At least she wouldn't be cold when they left.
Although, when that would be was a different question. As soon as they had got to the club, Gremory had spoken to the bouncer at the front door and they'd skipped the queue, being ushered in down the VIP line. He'd stayed with her as they'd got to the bar and ordered a drink, but after a few minutes he'd excused himself and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Bonnie with a silent Kimaris. She had tried to talk to him, but when she finally thought of something to say, two girls had pushed in beside her and she couldn't get close enough to hear him, let alone talk.
That was okay, though. Gremory would be back soon to take her with him to see his friend. Or at least that's what she assumed. However, as minutes began to drag and she got pushed further from the packed area and into the sidelines, she started to think that maybe that wasn't the case. She looked to see if she could spot him through the strobe lighting and flashing colours, but it was an impossible task. She'd have more luck spotting Kimaris with his height, but, like the shadow he usually was, he'd faded into the darkness.
And she was left—alone and unimportant.
As she stood listening to the music, the tight feeling in her chest sank even deeper.
She didn't seem to fit in here anymore, either.
The last time Bonnie had been in a nightclub was 2017, and back then, it made her feel free; surrounded by a sea of people and dancing until her feet hurt. She could forget about problems and drink as much alcohol as her stomach would allow. Strangers felt like friends and the music carried you, with all inhibitions flying out the door the minute your feet hit the dance floor.
But now—Bonnie felt old.
It wasn't the change of fashion that did it—she kind of liked the more casual look instead of the heels she'd forced herself to wear every outing—or the fact that the first person she'd accidentally stumbled into looked as though they were still in school. No, it wasn't either of those things.
