Keeping Up With the Briefs

Realization

8- Realization

The club was booming with loud music as dancers scattered across the dance floor. The air smelled of a mixture between alcohol and sweat, and Bulla tried her best not to smell too much of it. She didn't care much for clubbing, but she had nothing better to do. Pan was at the Cherry Blossom Festival with Trunks.

Bulla had helped Pan get ready for the evening, and when Trunks arrived at Brief Manor to pick Pan up, he had taken one look at her in her kimono and began stammering. Bulla wanted to laugh at him for being such a dork and cry for him for being so awkward at the same time. And Pan's cheeks had went from glowing to having two red spots on them. She looked like pikachu after Trunks' complimented how pretty she looked. Bulla, who had planned on inviting herself along, decided not to. She would be nothing but the third wheel if she tagged along.

Bulla sat on the ledge of the second story of the club. It was quieter up there and less smelly. From this view, Bulla could scope out the club better, too. She kicked her legs to the music and enjoyed watching her freshly pedicured toes shining in the light. Her peep-toed black pumped heels strapped around her ankles and clicked together now and again.

Above Bulla was a mirrored ceiling that reflected the club down below. She glanced up and admired her reflection. Her blue hair was pinned up neatly, her face glowing with just a bit of make-up, and her baby blue eyes popping. The dark red satin romper she had on was tight around her curves, the pants rested around her calves. It was sleeveless, with the back cut out of it and a modest cut for the imagination.

Bulla scanned the crowd below and watched. Couples were dancing and grinding together in a way that made Bulla's cheeks grow hot. She didn't think she would ever be brazen enough to do something like that in public. The single ones stood around the bar, attempting to flirt while they ordered their drinks. Bulla liked to watch people, and occasionally she would make up stories about their lives.

A strobe light flashed across the dance floor, and Bulla watched the light as it fell on a familiar face. She gasped in surprise at the man. In the next moment, the light had disappeared and so had he. Bulla blinked her eyes and narrowed them onto the crowd as she desperately searched for him. She hadn't imagined him, had she?

Suddenly, she spotted the tall man with familiar shoulders and wild dark hair that was combed up. "Goten," Bulla grinned. She kept her gaze on him as she stood up from where she was sitting.

What was Goten doing at the club? Even though Bulla wasn't fond of it herself, she never would have thought Goten would be interested in going there. She made her way towards the steps to the bottom floor. Bulla knew he'd be shocked to see her there, and she intended to tease him a bit. She always did like the fact that she rile him up and make his cheeks turn pink.

Bulla was halfway down the stairs and still watching Goten when she froze. A woman had appeared from behind him and was hugging him. Her stomach turned cold as she looked at the auburn hair and the familiar face. It was Paris, Goten's ex from high school.

A small, disbelieving noise escaped Bulla's throat. Now she knew why Goten was at the club. She turned around so her back was facing them. The last thing she wanted was to be seen by him now.

"Bulla?"

She glanced up in surprise. "June?" She blinked at the boy she had graduated high school with. He had asked her out a few times, but Bulla had turned him down every time. She had overheard June and his friends talking about her, so she had known what his true intentions were when asking her out. Plus, Bulla had been waiting for someone else. Her stomach bubbled and her throat burned at how foolish she had been the entire time. It's been over two years, and if he hadn't made a move in that time, he would never make one. It was time for her to realize that.