Evelyn

Look across the road, apartment above the bakery.

I look exactly where he said, looking at the old rustic bakery I've gone into many times over the last year, and look to the brick building atop of it, a large window catching my attention, more so the figure standing in it.

I can only see his silhouette, but I'd recognize it anywhere, and my stomach tightens when I watch him lift his hand and twinkle his fingers in a small wave.

I mirror the action back, shifting slightly on the bench, and my phone rings again.

I bite down on my lip, and my brows drop. I can't be in the same room as this man, not again. My pulse speeds up as I think of what to say.

I feel like I'd be doing something wrong by seeing him again - given our history, even if the encounter was innocent, I'd still feel uneasy, and I can't exactly put my finger on why.

Maybe because nothing about Lucas is ever innocent.

I can't, sorry, my boyfriend is getting tattooed. I need to go back inside

It wasn't a request, love. I'll see you in a few minutes.

I look back to the window, seeing the figure is no longer there, and I chew on the inside of my cheek while I try to gather my thoughts.

Part of me wishes I were a stronger person, more assertive, the type that could reply and put him in his place - or simply not turn up.

But as ridiculous as it sounds, I'd feel guilty for just not showing when he's obviously expecting me now, it's bad manners.

Even though manners are something he's clearly unfamiliar with.

Should I really go see him?

After all, I'm not the same girl I was three years ago, I've matured and managed to work on my shyness - maybe this time I won't actually feel like the timid little mouse he so graciously nicknamed me after.

My apprehension is tangled with my overwhelming curiosity as to why this man even wants to see me again; he could have seen me and simply chose to ignore it, and why he even kept my number.

He doesn't seem like the type to be sentimental over the women he encounters, contact information.

His demanding nature doesn't bother me like it should, just like it didn't all those years ago, and while back then I found it extremely intimidating and secretly thrilling, I'm more fascinated by it.

It's the type of confidence I could never possess, and I wonder what it must be like to exist in such a dominant and self-assured existence.

I seem to have been lost in my thoughts, because without realising, I've stood, discarding my lollipop, and my legs are carrying me to the road. I managed to grab my bearings enough to look for cars before crossing the street.

My subconscious is seemingly making up its mind on its own.

By the time I reach the bakery, I'm gripping the shopping bag of treats I should be taking to my boyfriend at this very second, and yet instead I'm walking into what feels like the lion's den.

There's a steel black staircase at the side of the old brick building, leading to a small standing area and what I assume is the front door.

It seems like I have no control over my body, my feet making their way up the steps before I have a chance to protest or really consider what I'm doing.

It's not until I reach the large metal door, which looks like it belongs in a prison, not an apartment, is in front of me - that my nerves realise what I'm actually doing and my heart rate increases.

I hold my breath as I lift my hand to knock, cursing myself when I notice my shaking - I'm not doing this again, I'm not going to be that same trembling girl that could barely say two words.

I knock twice, bringing my hand back down to clutch at the shopping bag in front of my hips, holding it with both hands so tightly I'm surprised the circulation hasn't been cut off to my fingers.

Footsteps echo behind the door as they get closer to it, and my heart seems to thump harder with each step I hear approaching.

The sound of locks clicking rings through my ears, and I suck in a breath as the door swings open slowly.

I'm glad there's a railing at the top of this staircase, because as soon as the door opens and those same moss green irises entrap my eyes, I feel like I've been punched in the stomach that hard I could have flown off the landing.

His full pink lips pull into a sly lopsided smile, his eyes glinting as they give me the once over before coming back to my face, "Long time no see, little mouse, miss me?"

I swallow anxiously as I try to grip my senses, wetting my lips before I speak, "Hi, Lucas."

I'm sure my eyes must be the size of dinner plates. This man seems to have only gotten more seductive and beautiful with age, and I'm extremely caught off guard when I see that his once long curls are replaced by a shorter haircut.

"Hi," he replies with a teasing smile, and my mind flashes back to the night I met him when we shared those exact words.

* "I'm Lucas."

"Hi, Lucas," I peep out, my voice short and high.

"Hi," he says back coyly, a grin breaking over his face.' *

I blink as the deja vu subsides, my eyes flicking down - and oh how I wish they hadn't.

His bare-toned torso, only covered by an unbuttoned mauve dress shirt hanging over his shoulders, has my pulse picking up, and when my eyes notice his black jeans are unbuttoned and open, only hanging on his hips with the white band of his briefs peaking out above his pants, I think I may actually faint.

This was a terrible idea. Lucas has and always will be nothing but trouble.

He notices my staring, only adding to the smug look on his face, and he opens the door wider, stepping aside, "Come in."

I take a small step back, shaking my head, "Oh no, I can't come in, I can't stay long."

Lucas simply raises his brow and extends his hand out to me, silently telling me that it wasn't something that was a question from him, but a statement.

I have the willpower of a drug addict with this man.

I hold my hand out apprehensively, sucking in a breath when his long fingers wrap around my own. "I can only stay for a few minutes," I say as firmly as possible.

"Sure," he muses, leading me inside the threshold of the front door.

I walk in, and I'm immediately hit with that same scent, the faint smell of disinfectant overpowered by his cologne.

The door closes behind me, and I gasp, nearly jumping a foot off the ground, clutching my hand to my chest - okay, so maybe I'm a tiny bit more on edge than I'd like to admit to myself.

Lucas lets out a soft laugh, brushing past me, the back of his hand grazing across the side of my hip as he does, and the faint but purposeful contact has my stomach flipping.

"Still a skittish little thing aren't you love?" he says casually without turning around, lifting his hand and motioning with his fingers to indicate for me to follow as he walks.

"No, I'm not - it's just been a stressful day," I defend quietly, which earns an amused 'Whatever you say, sweetheart' from Lucas.

I start to follow timidly, taking in his apartment and noticing how much it reminded me of his bedroom at his old place - if this is his place? Could it be a friend's house? It's not the same one I was taken to all that time ago.

It's very neat, organized, and open planned - almost like a display home, but there's no colour. All of the furniture is black and sleek, and the walls are exposed brick, only contrasted by the dark marble floor.

This seems so odd to be above an old bakery.

Once we get to the living area, I pause in my steps, seeing a woman sitting on the couch.

I might have assumed maybe she lived here, or was a friend, but from how disheveled her hair looks, her mascara smeared under her eyes, and the way she's wiping around her mouth, chin, and neck with a tissue makes it clear what she was doing here.

I look to Lucas, who's turned to watch me attentively, and I look from him back to the girl on the couch who has barely acknowledged my presence aside from a quick side glare.

Did I interrupt?

I couldn't have because Lucas was messaging me and - oh...was he messaging me while she was doing that? Was she.... Was she doing that to him while he was standing at the window?

Lucas watches my face, seeing my eyes widen as I look over to the large pane window, then to the girl and back to him.

His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

How is this amusing to him!

I clear my throat, shifting on my feet and gripping the shopping bag in my hand impossibly tighter. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know you had company."

Don't ask me why I'm apologizing, he's the one who demanded I come over, knowing full well what he was doing, but it's my knee-jerk reaction.

Lucas doesn't even acknowledge the woman on his couch, who is now shoving her - are they her panties? Wow - well, she's shoving them in her purse like it's the most casual thing in the world.

"She was just leaving," he says in a monotone voice.

"Excuse me?" the woman scoffs indignantly.

Lucas doesn't even blink in her direction, just keeps observing my reaction, "I don't repeat myself, you heard me."

"Well, she has a fucking name, you asshole," she hisses, standing abruptly from the couch, holding her heels in her other hand.

"I don't know why you're still talking, or still in my apartment," he says boredom, folding his hands behind his back, tilting his head slightly as he continues to observe me like some science project.

I'm frozen awkwardly on the spot, darting my eyes back and forth between the two. I'm horrible with confrontation, and I have no idea how he doesn't feel uncomfortable right now.

I'm taken aback by how dismissive and cold he is towards the woman; she may as well not even be in the room with the lack of acknowledgement he's giving her.

"So what, you bring some new little bitch over and just throw me out?" she snaps, storming over to stand in front of him.

I beg your pardon? What the hell did I do?

I frown at her, chewing on the inside of my lip, trying not to feel offended.

I watch annoyance flare slightly behind Lucas's eyes before it disappears, and he looks down at her with a passive expression. "That mouth of yours is only good for one thing. I'd stick to doing that and keep it shut otherwise, before you say something else to yourself that gets you into trouble."

Her shoulders bristle, and she points a perfectly manicured finger in his face, "Fuck you, Lucas."

Lucas leans down slightly, catching her line of vision, his voice still eerily calm, "I'd remember who you're speaking to, woman."

"My name is Stacey!" she snaps.

"Your name, just like you, isn't important or something I give a shit about. I'd get out if you know what's good for you," he says lowly, keeping his calm expression.

Stacey let out a frustrated squeal from the back of her throat, throwing her hands in the air and spinning around to storm out.

She doesn't look at or acknowledge me as she passes, and dumbly I say, "Bye, Stacey."

My overactive politeness always makes me say the stupidest things.

She scoffs, muttering 'whatever' under her breath as she stomps towards the front door, slamming it harshly behind her as she leaves.

She seems ....pleasant.

Lucas focuses his stare back on me, running his fingers through the front of his chestnut curls, pushing the loose strands that fell around his eyes from his face.

Stacey may not have been the most likable person in the world, but I don't agree with the way he treated her - you can't just treat people like that.

Especially discarding them so carelessly after being intimate with them, she's a person, not an inanimate object.

"You didn't have to speak to her like that, " I frown towards him.

The corner of Lucas's lips quirked at the corners, seeming more entertained rather than offended at my displeased statement.

I would have never said something like that to him when he first met me; I would have been too crippled by nerves.

He lifts a slow brow, his dimple denting into his cheek as a smirk grows on his lips. "Is that so?"

"It wasn't very nice," I state with my brows creasing further, showing my disapproval.

Lucas hums, nodding as he starts taking slow steps towards me, and I immediately back up.

As he gets closer, he tilts his head curiously, a menacing look to his captivating green eyes. "Really now? Well, tell me, what exactly gave you the impression I was nice, darling?"

**

"You'll be seeing me in your dreams

But I'll be there when your reality drowns."

Lucas stops a few inches from me, and I instinctively take one step back, becoming more nervous.

"I don't know." I stutter, "You were nice to me."

Lucas closes the gap between us, raising his brow and tucking his finger under the strap of my dress, moving his finger back and forth underneath it as he watches thoughtfully. "Nice? Is that what you'd call what happened the last time I saw you?"

Memories flood into my mind of Lucas crawling over the top of me on his bed, kissing me over every part of my skin as he did so, until he reached my neck, which he latched onto, while his hands tore my bra from my body so roughly it ripped down the middle.

I gulp "Yes."

He smirks as he snaps the strap to my dress back against my skin, pulling his hand away to run it through his hair. "I can think of some other words that are much more fitting."

My breathing picks up as he leans forward to whisper in my ear, "Such filthy words, my sweet girl."

The memories keep pouring in, heating my skin as I remember the dirty things he would whisper to me about what he was going to do to me, the obscene things he would growl in my ear as his fingers slipped into my panties while his other hand pinned my wrists with a vice grip above my head.

"Already so wet for me, princess, but I'm going to have you ruining my sheets by the time I'm done with you."

I squeeze my thighs together at the memory of those words, fighting the arousal it's sending through me.

I pull my face back, sucking in a breath, "I should go, my boyfriend is probably wondering where I am."

Lucas's lips quirk, loving how flustered he's made me. "Ah, that little boyfriend of yours - how long have you been with him?"

"Almost two years," I reply quietly, hoping that talking about this will deter him from acting the way he's acting.

I knew coming here was a bad idea, even more so than I expected. He's more dangerous than I thought.

Dangerous in the sense that the same attraction I had all those years ago is still knocking the wind from me like it never left, and I can't let that happen.

I love Andy; I shouldn't be feeling like this towards someone else.

"Isn't that adorable?" he says condescendingly, and I frown slightly.

Lucas tilts his head, squinting his eyes briefly with a smug expression. "Tell me, love, this boyfriend of yours, is he nice to you as well?"

I gulp as I nod, deciding to ignore the obvious thing he's insinuating. "Yes, he is, he's very sweet."

Andy is nothing like Lucas; he would never dream of doing the things that Lucas did, and I'm okay with that - that night with Lucas was a one-time experience, it's not who I am or what I want.

Lucas chuckles, shaking his head as he looks down, and begins to button his shirt, and I want to slap my own eyes for darting down to watch. "Of course he's sweet, I wouldn't expect any less from you."

I try to stop myself from feeling offended at him patronizing my relationship; there's nothing wrong with Andy. He's sweet, kind, and a perfect gentleman!

"Why did you ask me to come here?" I dare to ask, not wanting him to belittle my boyfriend much more.

Lucas lifts his face, only doing a few of the bottom buttons up to his shirt, and gives me a shrug. "I wanted to see you."

"But why?" I press further, having a bit more confidence in myself to question things than the girl he knew back then.

Lucas turns, doing up his jeans while walking to the kitchen counter near us and grabbing a glass filled with what looks to be whiskey, and takes a sip, raising his brows at me as he does so. "Why is it important?"

Is he drinking at this time of the day? It's not even 5 pm.

I can't help thinking about what Andy would say about that, how harshly he would judge Lucas. He would never let me spend time with someone like this, usually.

I walk over to stand next to him, placing my shopping bag on the counter and folding my arms over my chest as I face him, "Because I didn't think you'd want to see me again after that night, and I don't understand why you do now."

"I have my reasons," he replies vaguely, taking another sip from his drink as he watches me over the rim of the glass.

I let out a frustrated breath, knowing I'm never going to get a straight answer out of him.

"So," he says, as he places his drink back on the counter, leaning against it with his hand, "Did you ever start taking those photos you wanted to?"

My brows shoot up in surprise, forgetting I'd mentioned that to him or that he actually remembered after all this time.

Sophie had warned me that Lucas didn't even take enough interest in a woman to even learn their name, let alone remember it, so this has caught me completely off guard.

"Yes, actually," I reply, still slightly dumbfounded.

He smiles at this, and it's one of the first smiles I've seen from him that looks genuine, not laced with mischief or arrogance.

"Good girl, I'm glad to hear that. I'm sure they're fantastic photographs."

I bought a camera a few months after that night with Lucas, and started taking photos at any chance I could get, becoming extremely passionate about the moments I could capture, how I could tell a story or portray a perception of something that people might not see with their own eyes.

It's really only a hobby, but I adore it.

I smile bashfully, genuinely appreciating the compliment.

"Come to Placebo tonight, bring your camera," he says with a stolid expression.

I scrunch my nose up, creasing my brows in confusion, "Why?"

I haven't been back to that place since I met Lucas; they aren't the sort of places I go near, especially these days.

"I know the owner, we have an event on tonight, he'll pay you to take photos of the crowd and use them to advertise the nights on their website," he explains casually, keeping his eyes on mine.

"Oh, Oh no, I couldn't do that," I decline quickly

"You can, and you will. I wasn't asking love."

My brows drop as I purse my lips, becoming annoyed with his bossy attitude. "It's rude to just demand people do whatever you want like that."

He takes a step towards me, leaning his face closer, "I never said I was polite. I don't ask for what I want, I take it."

My stomach turns at the drop of his voice and the intense look in his eyes, and I lean back to create some distance. "I can't tonight, I had plans with my boyfriend-"

"Bring him," he cuts me off, "I won't accept no as an answer, love."

Andy is going to have an aneurysm over this.

I sigh, wetting my lips as I try to compose myself from the feelings his eyes are flaring up inside of me again. "You really aren't giving me an option, are you?"

Apparently, I left my backbone at the front door when I walked in here.

He shakes his head, one of those smug smiles taking over his lips, "Be there at 10 pm, tonight is Devils Night, most people will be in masks or costumes, I suggest dressing up."

"I'm assuming dressing up isn't an option either?"

Lucas lifts his chin, staring down at me over his nose with that same smug look. "You're a fast learner."

I sigh heavily, slightly irritated with myself that I gave in this easily. I can't explain why this man can have me as putty in his hands. "I'm only doing this, this one time, I don't go to places like that."

"If you say so, sweetheart," he says dismissively, turning to grab his drink again. "You should probably get back to that boyfriend before he thinks someone's stolen you away."

"He doesn't have to worry about that," I say assuredly. Andy would never be concerned with such a thing; he knows what I'm like.

Lucas bites down on his lip, his eyes glinting slyly as if he's stopping himself from saying what he's thinking.

I grab the shopping bag from the counter, giving him a tight smile, "I should go, though. It was nice seeing you again."

That's a complete lie; seeing him has done nothing but turn my mind and nerves into shambles.

He chuckles, wetting his lips as he nods back towards me, "You'll be seeing a lot more of me, don't be late tonight."

My breathing labors as I swallow, backing away.

"Bye, Lucas," I say anxiously as I turn to make my way to the front door.

"Bye, little mouse," he murmurs.

As I turned, something caught my attention that sparked the same questions I had the night I spent with him, something I didn't notice when I first got there. In the living room, the back wall was covered with shelves from the floor to the ceiling, all filled to the brim with those same VHS tapes I had noticed in his bedroom, except now.

There were at least triple the amount.

As I reach the front door, I can't help but ask the same question swimming around in my mind: What could be on all of those tapes?

***

"Honey, this really isn't a good idea. Have you heard about this place?" Andy says apprehensively, adjusting his red sweater.

"I've been there once before," I try to reassure him, concentrating on making sure I don't snap an ankle walking in these heels.

"Why would you ever go somewhere like that?" he asks incredulously.

I try tugging down the hem of my white skirt, but the damn thing keeps riding up my thighs. I don't even know what possessed me to wear this outfit.

Oh, right, it was Lucas.

"I went with Sophie a few years ago, that's where I met my friend," I explain, adjusting my camera strap on my shoulder as we continue the short walk to the club from the taxi rank.

"Is Sophie going to be there tonight?" he asks, and even though he masks it well, I still pick up on the distasteful tone in his voice.

He's never really liked my friendship with Sophie; he calls her a bad influence.

"She said she might be." I give him a tight smile, trying to hide my irritation.

He let out a heavy sigh. "Wonderful, so who is this guy anyway? You've never mentioned him before today."

"Just an old friend I met when I first moved here, we hadn't seen each other again until today," I say vaguely, almost feeling I'm adopting Lucas's mannerisms for answering questions.

I feel guilty leaving out the great details about who Lucas is, or how I actually know him. Andy would have never agreed to let me come tonight if he ever found out I'd had a one-night stand with him; Andy thinks they're abhorrent.

But Lucas is just a friend now, if you could call it that, more so an acquaintance. I don't plan on pursuing a relationship with him further than tonight.

Having Lucas in my life seems like playing with fire, and I'm not the type of person for that.

Andy frowns slightly. "If he's someone who spends time at places like that, I don't think it's a good idea to start that friendship again."

"I wasn't planning on it; he just needed me to take photos tonight."

Andy shoves his hands into his jeans, keeping his frown. "I still don't see why."

I halt my steps, looking over to him, slightly hurt. "Do you not think I could get paid to take photos?"

Andy gives me a sympathetic smile, resting his hands on my shoulders. "Oh no, sweetheart, that's not what I meant at all. But photography isn't something we planned on you doing, remember?"

"But what if I could, though? Maybe I could actually do it as a job," I ask timidly, shrugging my shoulders slightly.

Andy sighs, rubbing his hands up and down my bare arms. "It's a good hobby, dear, but it's not what we talked about you doing; we should stick to that, okay? You'll be fantastic at my dad's firm."

I press my lips together, giving him a resigned nod, deciding not to push the subject further.

I could point out that he decided all of that, not me.

I could point out that I have absolutely no desire to be a receptionist at his father's firm.

I could do a lot of things, but instead I just stay quiet. It's easier to just stick to his plan; that way, I don't have to worry about the future.

It's already laid out for me.

Andy wraps his hand around my waist, turning us to keep walking, and he gives me a disapproving once-over with his eyes. "I still don't think that outfit is very appropriate, honey, especially for a place like this, think of all the low lifes there and what they'll be thinking about you."

I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting the urge to snap back at him. He hasn't stopped making comments about my outfit all night; he hasn't once complimented me or said one supportive thing, really.

I tried to heed Lucas' request, well, demand that I dress up, but now this white tight skirt and sheer, low-cut, loose blouse seems like a bad idea.

I think Andy's just irritated that we are going to this place instead of going to his father's house for dinner, like every Saturday night since we've been together.

"Do I look bad?" I ask quietly, feeling self-conscious over his constant comments.

He leans over and kisses my cheek. "No, of course not, you always look beautiful... It's just, this outfit is a bit...well, you know."

I crease my brows together. "No, I don't know, what is it?"

Andy blows out a huff of air, shaking his head, "It's just when you're dressed like that, it gives people a certain impression."

I glare sideways at him, tugging down the hem of my skirt again. "What impression would that be?"

Andy smiles, kissing my cheek again, "Don't worry about it, just try not to wear it again, okay?"

I hang my head, looking at the ground with my shoulders deflating.

"At least one part of the outfit shows who you really are," he says warmly, giving my waist a gentle squeeze with his arm around me.

I lift my eyes to him, trying to hide how insecure and hurt I feel. "What's that?"

Andy lifts his hand to point to the halo on top of my head. "That right there, you're an angel."

I blush, dropping my eyes again. "I don't own anything devil-related, the closest thing I have."

I really didn't own anything that seemed to fit the theme tonight. I had an old halo that was part of an angel costume from Halloween last year, and figured that was in the realm of devils, I mean, even Satan was an angel at some point.

"You and me both, sweet pea," he smiles, rubbing his hand against my side affectionately. "Let's just get tonight over with, so you never have to come back."

----------

As soon as I'm surrounded by those deep red lights, I feel like I've been sucked back through time, all the Deja Vu feeling like a kick to the stomach as I search my eyes around the club.

It still feels as sinister as ever, the heavy bass to the music making the air vibrate.

That same smell fills my nostrils, and I close my eyes momentarily, almost reminiscing about the last time I was here.

Though I could never openly admit it, a small bit of excitement spurs in me over being here again; there's something about this place that thrills me, it's probably the fact that I know I shouldn't be here.

Andy clung to my side, scowling at the sea of people all dressed like something out of a pornographic masquerade movie.

It seems most people opted for masks, creepy ones at that. Some were black with menacing horns, others were shades of red with menacing teeth, and looked fit for a horror film.

A large collection of the women opted for scantily clad outfits, some only in tight red latex body suits and fishnets, complemented by some devil horns.

I definitely stick out like a sore thumb.

"Evelyn!" My attention is caught by my name, and I look around until my eye catches Sophie making her way through the crowd, waving with an excited smile.

She reaches us, pulling me away from Andy and into a tight hug. "I can't believe you actually turned up!" she shouts.

"Me either," I laugh as I pull back from her, relieved that she decided to come and that I'll have her here for support.

I'm thankful I have the buffer of other people with me when it comes to being around Lucas. Today proved to me that I can't be alone with him, I don't trust him, and deep down, I know I don't trust myself.

Andy steps to my side, linking his arm around my waist, giving Sophie an exaggerated smile, "Fancy seeing you here, Sophie."

Sophie returns his fake smile, not trying in the least to hide the sarcasm in her voice, "Oh, hey Andy, sorry I didn't notice you there."

His arm tightens around my waist, and I chew on the inside of my cheek, hoping this isn't going to be another drawn-out passive-aggressive conversation between them.

"I could say the same, but you're hard to miss," he replies, giving Sophie a once-over with his eyes, making his expression obvious that he doesn't approve of her proactive outfit.

My shoulders tense as I bite back the urge to ask him to stop being so rude, hurt, and angry that he insists on speaking to my best friend the way he does.

I give Sophie an apologetic look, hoping she doesn't try to push his buttons like she usually does.

Sophie smiles tightly. "Thank you, glad you like my outfit so much, I might lend it to Evelyn sometime."

Andy bristles, and before he can respond, I cut in to try to diffuse another argument before it starts. "Do you know where Lucas is? I need to figure out what's going on with these photos I'm meant to be taking."

Sophie gives Andy a quick glare before turning her attention to me. "He's upstairs. Do you want me to take you up there?"

I nod appreciatively. "If you could, please, I'm still a bit nervous."

A warm, encouraging smile spreads on Sophie's face. "You've got nothing to be nervous about, your photos are going to be amazing."

Oh, if only she knew it wasn't the photos I was nervous about.

She gestures her hand for us to follow her, "Come on, let's go find your mystery man."

I follow with Andy close behind me, keeping a tight grip on my hand as we weave through the crowd of people to that same staircase that's plagued my memories.

I can't help the flashbacks that run through my mind of the first time I saw Lucas, walking down those same stairs, or when he had walked me up them into that bathroom.

There was something about that night that changed everything, though I'm not sure exactly what it changed yet. There was a definite shift in my reality after encountering someone like him; his presence burns itself into your existence whether you want it to or not.

Maybe it was that I could tell there was a danger about knowing someone like Lucas; he was unpredictable, dark, and somewhat forbidden to someone like me.

He was the guy my parents would warn me about, the type they would use as an example of what to stay away from.

Maybe that's why he fascinated me so much.

As we make our way up the stairs, my nerves start to swirl like fire ants through my stomach, forever feeling unprepared for any encounter I have with this man.

As soon as we reach the room at the top of the stairs, I glance briefly down the corridor Lucas had taken me down, my stomach fluttering at the memory of following him so naively back then.

The upstairs room doesn't look like it's changed at all, except the stage where bands would play is now graced with half-naked women dancing on poles or performing burlesque routines.

Andy's grip tightens around mine, and I look back at him, seeing him shake his head in disgust at the stage.

I sometimes wish he weren't so judgmental. The women dancing are beautiful, they're doing a fantastic job, and are clearly talented, but all he can see is something cheap and immoral.

"He's sitting over there." Sophie places her hand on my shoulder to get my attention, and when I look at her, she gestures over to the corner of the room, to a corner lounge that has several people sitting on it with a table in front of them.

I immediately notice that same head of curls in the crimson lighting, and I hold my breath when I lock eyes with him, feeling like everything in the room was sucked out through some kind of vortex, and we were the only two people there.

I don't think I'll ever feel like I don't have the wind knocked out of me when I see him, especially if he keeps insisting on wearing those damn dress shirts unbuttoned and open over his chest.

I have to admit, though, the devil horns perched on his head are both ironically fitting and comical at the same time.

I hadn't realized he'd noticed me. Although I am the only person in a sea of satanic costumes who's wearing a bloody angel halo, I guess anyone would notice that.

I must look utterly ridiculous.

Lucas lifts his hand, motioning his fingers to come over with a smirk, and I coax myself into taking the first step, walking apprehensively with Sophie next to me and Andy still training behind, holding my hand.

Lucas is sitting back against the couch with spread knees, scantily clad women sat on either side of him with decorative masks, and several other people sat around on the couch, most of them drinking or kissing. I'm noticing a few of them doing something I don't quite recognize at first.

As we get closer, I recognize what's going on, even though it's something I'd only ever seen in movies, and I start to panic. Andy is going to throw a fit over this.

One of the women runs her hand down Lucas's bare chest, whispering in his ear before leaning forward over the table, scraping white powder into a line with a card and inhaling it through her nose with a rolled up bill.

It seems that's what most people sat there were taking turns doing, except Lucas, he hasn't wavered his eyes from me, he didn't even seem to pay attention when the woman had spoken to him.

I always thought I would react differently to seeing something like that in person, that I'd be outraged or mortified by it. For some reason, however, I'm fascinated.

It's not in the sense I'm attracted to trying it, but watching people partake in such illicit behavior, doing something I would never dream of, has me curious instead of afraid.

I'm halted in my steps by Andy tugging my hand firmly, a few feet from the table, and grabs my arm as he spins me to face him abruptly with his brows creasing together, he looks furious, "Evelyn, what the fuck! That's who your friend hangs around? For Christ's sake, they're all doing drugs!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't - I didn't know people would be doing that." I apologize quickly as I watch his anger rise.

"What do you expect from people like that? We're going home, you aren't socializing with junkies," he snaps, screwing his nose up in disgust.

"Andy, will you just relax? She's here to take photos, she's not going to get high just looking at it." Sophie butts in, folding her arms over her chest.

I know that she's biting her tongue; she can't stand when he tells me what to do, and she's made sure to reiterate that to me at great length.

"Relax?" he scoffs. "These may be the kind of people you hang around, but I'm not letting Evelyn associate with criminals."

I feel guilty for bringing Andy here, exposing him to a situation like this. I know how strongly he feels about these sorts of things, but I also hate that he's ordering me around like I'm a child.

He tugs on my arm, glaring towards Sophie, "Come on, Evelyn, we're going home."

I frown, trying to pull my arm from his grip. "I can't just leave. The owner hired me to take photos, I can't go without saying anything."

Andy grips my arm harder than I think he realizes, and I wince at his fingers biting into my skin. "Forget your stupid photos, we're leaving, you don't owe people like this an explanation."

"Andy, please stop-"

An arm brushing against my shoulder makes me jump, darting my eyes to the side to see Lucas standing next to me, looking down at me with his brows dropped and jaw set tight.

His face looks stern yet passive, and my words catch in my throat as I catch the irritation behind his eyes.

I'm hoping he didn't hear what Andy had said. I'm dreading what he would do, simply because I never know exactly what it will be; the uncertainty with him terrifies me.

I don't get to say anything before he speaks, his voice low and taunting, "Is there a problem here?"