𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖔𝖔𝖐𝖊𝖗

The car ride was dead silent. The only thing I could hear was the engine running, and whenever we stopped at a red light, I could hear my heart thumping in my chest. What did he want to talk about? Well, it's definitely going to have something to do with Tom and Bill and the 'little fight' they had.

I pushed myself to say something. "Where exactly are we going?" I asked, my voice a bit shaky. "I know this really nice place; I'm sure you'll love it," he said, a small smile resting on his cold expression. I knew he was mad because of the way his hands were clenching the wheel. This was the same way he was when we were chasing down Markus, my ex, after what he did.

The vehicle soon came to a stop in front of an old warehouse. After getting out of the car, I turned to Georg, confused. "What are we going to do here?" He didn't answer; he just wrapped his hand around my shoulders and led me to a massive, heavy metal door guarded by a formidable sentry, gripping an HK33 in his hands.

"What is your ID?" He asked in a deep voice, his accent unfamiliar to me.

"B28903.552," Georg read from his phone. The guard repeated the code into his radio, then turned his attention to me.

"And the girl? What is her age?" His intense gaze seemed to pierce right through me. "Don't worry, sir, the girl is old enough," Georg reassured him.  He seemed to think about it for a minute, still watching my every move, and then he finally said something into his radio again. In a few seconds, the door opened, revealing a dark hallway.

"Old enough for what?" I whispered to him as we made our way toward the white door at the end of the hallway. "This is a club-like place, a paparazzi-safe space for celebrities and rich people. You have to be at least eighteen years old to get in here because they serve alcohol and drugs, as well as have some strippers," he quietly explained.

"Oh, so you brought me to a high-end strip club for wealthy people. And you thought I'd enjoy it because...?" I inquired with a raised eyebrow, waiting for his response.

"You'll see, and hopefully we'll run into Bill here," he said, then opened the white door. I gasped as I entered, my curiosity piqued.

The room was enormous, with high ceilings that seemed to stretch to the heavens. The walls were adorned with an array of stunning artwork, each piece a masterpiece in its own right. Illuminated by soft, ambient lighting, the room exuded an opulent atmosphere. Throughout the vast space, there were tables arranged like in an upscale restaurant. A well-stocked bar stood at one end, tended by skilled bartenders crafting cocktails with precision. In the center of the room, there was ample space for dancing and mingling. The dance floor beckoned with its polished surface, inviting people to let loose and move to the rhythm of the music.

As I took in the surroundings, I noticed a few strippers in cages, gracefully dancing on poles suspended from the ceiling. Their movements were mesmerizing, drawing the attention of those gathered around. Adding to the decadence, money was scattered liberally on the floor, a testament to the extravagance of the place. It was a world of luxury and indulgence, where the elite and well-to-do gathered to revel in their desires.

Georg led me to one of the tables, and menus were promptly handed to us as we settled into our seats. I looked around, my eyes scanning the room in search of Bill, but with no luck – he was nowhere to be found.

"So, how have you been?" Georg asked, interrupting my thoughts. How have I been when? Did he mean this year, these two days, or something else entirely?

"What specifically are you asking about, Georg? The whole year, since you never called to check on me, or these two days when you left me alone with the Kaulitz twins?" I replied, my tone tinged with a hint of frustration.

"Look, Lolita, I'm really sorry that I was away for so long, but wait 'till you hear what happened. Ohhhh, you're gonna love the tea I have," Georg said, clearly excited to share the drama. My interest was aroused. When we were a little younger, we would always meet up in the small treehouse behind our house – just me, Georg, and Kath – and we would share all the drama that was going on. The age difference was never a problem for us.

"But I'm starving; let's get some food first," he said, opening his menu. I opened mine, and my eyes widened at the prices. I definitely can't afford this. "Oh, and by the way, it's my treat, so get whatever you want, lil sis." I raised my eyes from the menu to see him smiling at me. I smiled back and quickly settled on a Caesar Salad with Grilled Shrimp; it just looked delicious in the photo.

A familiar-looking waiter came to take our order, but I couldn't quite recognize him. I tried to read his name tag, but he didn't have one. We told him our orders as he wrote them down in a small notebook. When he left, I turned all my attention to Georg. "So, about the drama?"

He told me about how Gustav's sister had fainted after hearing the news, so they had to take her to the hospital. It turns out she was eight weeks pregnant, so she's not that much of a lesbian after all. And now everyone hates everyone and there is still a lot of shit going on, but they didn't want to stay for that.

As he kept going into details about Gustav's family drama, I took another look around the place when my eyes locked on a black leather coach at the far end of the club. I saw Bill leaning back on the couch with a black-haired hooker in his lap, sticking her tongue down his throat.

I sharply inhaled at the scene before my eyes and accidentally choked on my food. I started coughing and gasping for air. Everyone turned their heads to look at me. I stood up to go find a bathroom, but Georg caught me by my wrist. He looked at me, worried. "Bill, there," I managed to choke out, tears welling in my eyes. At this point, I didn't know if I was crying because of the lack of breath, embarrassment, or what I just saw. I mean, the girl looked just like me.