“It’s fuckin’ Friday, let’s get loooose!”

  Theo laughed as Jimmy’s exclamation was quickly followed by a stumble down the last few steps of the club, ending in a shoulder charge that opened the entry door. His cheer on a successful landing bounced off the alley walls, causing Theo to wince as it overpowered the sounds of revelry and the heavier thump of base that pushed them from behind. The noise muted as the heavy club door shut, replaced by a persistent tinny ring.

  “You’re already half-way to shitfaced, ya munga,” Theo said. He shoved his friend's shoulder, causing him to stumble again.

  “And it’s bloody glorious my man.” Jimmy’s voice remained obnoxiously loud despite the change in ambient noise. Catching his step, he swivelled with the grace of the inebriated to hook Theo in a quick headlock, knuckling his scalp.

  “Oi!” Pushing Jimmy clear, Theo swept a hand through his hair, trying to bring some order back to the chaos. He brushed off imagined lint from his blue merino V-neck and shot Jimmy the bird.

  A ripe melange of sweat, trash, and perfume assaulted them as they moved past the bouncer’s belligerent stare. A growing throng of faithfuls awaited entry into the club, the line almost making it onto the more populated Little Bourke Street. He checked his phone; a quarter to midnight.

  “Where are we meeting Daz? That place was thumpin’, we should have made him come to us,” Jimmy asked.

  “It’s down some alley off Exhibition, Strachan Lane or something. There’s a new place called Eclipse he scored VIP entry to.”

  “How’d the fuck he manage that? Pretty boy got a new bird or somethin’?” Jimmy quickly checked the map on his phone. “Fuckin’ lar di da, right at the Paris end of Collins too. I’m feelin’ swank already.”

  “Alright, Hilary, keep ya dress on. It’s opening night, so there’s a free bar and its excloooosive,” Theo said as they pushed past a rowdy crowd trying to get in for late night dim sum at one of the local dumpling houses. “Aaand …” Theo continued, “He’s bringing mushies!”

  “Booya! Fuckin’ mushies! That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout!” Jimmy bent over to pull up his smiley face socks, some poor girl bouncing off his ass as he delayed the foot traffic. “Buy me a drink first lady!” he called to her blushing face as she tried to apologise.

  “Mate, you’re a wreck… Daz is gunna meet us at St Michaels so we can drop before we head in.” Theo popped his phone back into his packet.

  * * *

  “What is this, some goth bar or something?” Jimmy eyed the subdued red lighting and velvet décor of the bar entry. “Fuckin cliché Daz, who’d you shag to find out about this place, Lestat?”

  The comment earnt a snort from Theo.

  “You know I love me some cold cock, Jimmy. You should give it a go, might help with the hernias you got from straining after your last girl.” Daz attempted to goose Jimmy but was adroitly dodged. The sickly thin hostess glared at the two as they mock fought in the reception area.

  “You’re both a disgrace,” Theo said, shaking his head. Laughing at their antics whilst also feeling slightly mortified, he pushed between the two, his arms locking around their necks to intervene in their fooling around. He nodded to the hostess in apology as he pulled them, protesting, into the long hallway that ran behind the entry.

  The hallway arced, circling what he presumed was a closed off central area in the club. The sounds of the city gradually sank beneath the heavy carpet and velvet drapes, replaced by an oscillating rhythm of sound. Tendrils of smoke seeped from behind the velvet and selectively placed greenery, creating an ethereal atmosphere that seemed to morph as they moved forward.

  There was a descent to the hallway, just enough that it felt like they were gaining pace. It was three full revolutions before an ornately carved wooden doorway appeared. It was framed by palms and climbing rose vines, welcoming them into the club proper. The room opened, with a massive stained-glass ceiling over fifty metres above. Halfway up the walls, there was a discrete level of viewing booths like some sort of gothic theatre.

  The spiralling path continued, with private booths opening on either side of the aisle, the outer side a step up, and the inner a step down. A hostess greeted them at the entrance, taking tickets from Daz and escorting them about fifty metres further down the path. She explained the setup as she led them to their booth, which was halfway down the first spiral and on the outside.

  Continuing around the loop would find them at a bar directly under the entrance that they had come in. The walkway then continued tightening as it moved around a second level of booths before it finally ended at another bar and a central dancefloor. From where they now stood, Theo could hear the pianist that sat at a grand piano on a small stage just off the centre of the club, the music blending into the ever-present subliminal synth. The angle of the spiral meant that all the booths had a good view down into the centre of the club.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Daz made a signal that he would get the first round, so Theo ushered Jimmy into the booth before looking around. At only half-twelve, it was just beginning to fill, with hostesses appearing as if by magic to escort more of the ticket holders. An abundance of potted ferns and plants created private oases at each of the hardwood and velvet booths. There are some very shiny people, Theo thought to himself, as he caught sight of another group making their way past their booth.

  “There are buttons!” Jimmy grabbed Theo’s arm to pull him towards his discovery. “What’ya reckon they do?” he asked.

  “Table service or something, I imagine,” Theo muttered, pulling his arm free. Across from them, a pair of overly attractive men laughed silently, no doubt amused by Jimmy’s inebriated enthusiasm. Theo took note of their more elaborate outfits, ones that seemed to closely match the Arabian décor.

  “Was this meant to be fancy dress?” he asked Jimmy in a hissing whisper, as he spotted more examples of presumably costumed guests.

  “Ask Daz, fucked if I know. And where are our drinks anyway?” Jimmy stood up and made his way past the low redwood table that took centre place of their booth. “I need to find the pisser and I'll try to wrangle Daz away from whatever trick he’s found at the bar.”

  Theo waved him off, settling back into the cushion filled comfort of the lounge and enjoying the slow encroachment of the mushies.

  Soft music played; the hypnotic synth seemed to snake its way through a light mist of fog. Discrete heaters above them combined with a misting spray that drifted down from underneath the viewing level, creating a lush but mild tropical warmth. Theo touched the velvet, surprised the moisture did not seep into the fabric.

  Jimmy returned with two blood bags full of a red viscous cocktail. “Would ya’ look at this mate? I told you it was fuckin’ goth bar. Barman special, full of the finest nutrients known to man. Vodka and something, something. I forgot the rest.” He threw one at Theo’s chest, which thankfully still had a cap attached to the opening at the top.

  “Where’s Daz?” Theo asked as he cracked open the blood bag.

  “Chatting to the bird that got him the tickets, found her at the bar. She’s a wispy one, barely any meat on her.”

  “Just Daz’s type.”

  “That or a thick fuckin’ lumberjack … I'll never understand that man.” Jimmy sucked at his cocktail with an obnoxious slurp. “There are some real showstoppers here tonight, it's going to be glorious!”

  Theo laughed at his ever-horny friend before taking a sip of his own drink. Delicious and sinus clearing strong. It had a hint of herbs that soothed the up-front punch of the vodka, and then slowly warmed as it made its way down his throat. The buzz seemed to stir the slow build-up of the mushrooms, and he rode the kick, eyes wobbling slightly.

  Geometric textures pulled themselves from the ornate wallpaper as he slumped back into the velvet covered booth. He breathed in the colours that seemed to vibrate in time to the music. The deeper red colour of the seat seemed to drip off the couches and run across the floor, gathering smoke and shadows.

  “Fuck me” he breathed. The initial rush settled. “That’s some magic fuckin’ potion right there.”

  “Too right mate.” Jimmy continued to slurp his drink loudly, the fucking monster.

  “Where’s the dunny?” Theo asked, slowly sitting up.

  “Other side of the bar at the very bottom, there’s a stairwell. Can’t go up, apparently that’s VIP land, toilets are down.”

  Theo got up, thankfully still relatively steady on his feet. All of a sudden, the world seemed to still, and then a blast of energy shot through Theo, knocking his eyes straight. Theo just stood there in numb silence, his lizard brain screaming. A woman in red silk glided past the booth, shadows rushing toward her as she walked the curving path toward the centre of the club. Silence seemed to cloak her as she passed, and it was only after her tailing entourage passed from sight that he took a breath.

  “What the fuck was that?” he whispered.

  “Dibs!” claimed Jimmy, though Theo noticed he hadn't yet moved from his seat, his mouth still open, his drink frozen in his hands.

  “Might want to wipe your mouth mate, a bit of drool came out.” Theo passed his drink to Jimmy before making his way out of the booth. He stopped at the bar to chat with Daz, introducing himself to their sponsor and thanking her for the invite. He gave them a wave as he moved towards the alcove with the stairs that led to the bathrooms. There was no sign of the mystery woman, and Theo presumed she was already upstairs where the elites were enjoying whatever they got to enjoy.

  The walls undulated lightly as he stepped off the curved stairs and into an ornate sitting room. There were private rooms, most open, though a few doors were already closed. Horny fuckers, Theo thought to himself... Jimmy would fit in fine.

  Past the carpeted entrance room, he moved onto the black and white chequered tiling of the bathroom proper, stumbling slightly as the floor seemed to twist. Gold filigree ornamentation enhanced the opulent décor, and he stopped in awe as he took in one of the lushest looking bathrooms he had ever seen.

  Finding one of the large private toilets that was empty, he was quickly enveloped in black, white, and gold. He ran the tap in the black marble sink, enjoying the sound as the water splashed and danced around the bowl. The music from above filtered softly through, blending with the sounds of the water. He ran his fingers across the glistening marble, getting lost in the light reflecting from the overhead chandelier as it danced across the golden striations in the stone.

  Heavier sounds pushed through from the outside, deeper thumps adding a bass counterpoint to the water's melody. He felt his mind lift free, a psychedelic skip onto a melodic highway, the musical notes the stepping stones he used to traverse the watery road. Darker notes entered the fray, and strange faces pushed in from the periphery, their half-seen visages a mix of screaming pain and glorious pleasure. Mouths dripped with blood. He pushed the visuals away, focusing on the light as it rippled through the water, stepping into the stream itself and following the light.

  One final screech brought him back to himself, and he found his finger against the striated marble of the floor, following one of the golden cracks. His vision twisted again, and the crack turned liquid and flowed like rivers through the floor. He was about to open the door following one particularly large river back out, when he had a realisation.

  “Fuck, I forgot to piss.” Turning back around to the toilet, bidet ... whatever, he finished his business when an unusual sound penetrated his haven. A commotion was occurring in the sitting room. He looked at his phone, the time edging towards three. How long had he spent in the bathroom?

  A loud triple bang interrupted his thought. What the hell was that? He thought to himself.

  “Open the fucking door!” a gruff masculine voice shouted through the door.

  “Geez mate, let a man piss in peace,” he called back. Washing his hands, he opened the door, and was abruptly tackled by a man in full military gear. His head cracked against the chequered marble floor, and his eyes rolled back into his head.