Zero.

The bar was by far the grimiest of all Nik had found herself in over the past few months, Trixie had hauled her out to every karaoke bar and music venue in the city, going further and further each time. Tonight, they found themselves at one of the last alternative places on Trixie's list - Edies.

The half-lit neon sign flickering displaying the name sent a shiver down Nik's spine, she prayed for an early evening as she noticed the bikers outside of the tiny club in the back alley, surveying them both. Clocking them as outsiders immediately.

The hulking tattooed men at the door were almost enough for Nik to demand they go home but ...Trixie had made it their mission to get out every Friday night and that was that.

The bouncers looked Trixie up and down in her dress and Nik in her hoodie and frayed flare jeans. Trixie showed her ID with a beaming smile.

Now they were both old enough to be at these intuitions Nik had hoped the usual fear that came would dissipate, but the thumping in her heart continued as they made their way past the guards and down a chipped-painted black stairwell.

Edies had 6 booths, two tables, a bar, and the smallest stage and dance floor Nik had ever seen, she felt as though she had just entered some combination of a diner, club, and someone's bedroom. All in a basement of some random decaying back alley building.

The smell of beer and sweat that was soaked into the foundations enveloped Nik, bringing about memories of drinks spilled in moshpits and metal barriers pushing into her stomach as she yelled songs with her best friend.

As Nik and Trixie walked through the entrance, they were confronted with 25 or so people, each one seemed to look to the door as they entered - Nik looked to the floor, Trixie gave them all sarcastic curtsy, causing everyone to return to their conversations. She stared down the few that continued assessing them as she walked to the bar.

Trixie ordered shots, slammed one back, and left Nik in the furthest booth whilst she did the thing she loved most. Sing.

Edie's was quiet, subdued, the bartender yawning made Nik wonder if it was like this every Friday night, or if it was just still early. People clustered around tables, the karaoke machine on the side of the stage being ignored.

Nik watched Trixie stride up to the mic, pulling it from the stand - the feedback erupted, causing the whole of Edie's to wince.

Trixie flicked through the offering of songs, her eyes calmly scanning the screen in front of her.

Nik sat in the cracked leather seat, feet tapping to the beat of the music from the speakers, head nodding in time as she took sips of her beer, her foot sticking with each rise of her heel. She put a thumb through the hole in her hoodie sleeve, crossed her arms, and wondered if Trixie even needed her here.

Trixie began to whisper, causing people to look in her direction. She held their stares, daring them to get up, to get closer.

Nik shifted in her seat, palms sweating as she looked around at the melting pot of punks, metal-heads, and posters of bands that, at best she loved, and at worst she only heard of. Edies certainly wasn't as bad as the other places they had gone and it felt like the type of place she could belong.

Still, she found herself on the fringes, a lone figure enveloped by darkness in a corner whilst Trixie commanded the attention of goth girls and emos alike from the tiny makeshift stage next to the bar.

Trixie's energy caused every sleepy, bored patron to gather on the tiny dance floor. Even the bartender seemed to have woken up.

Watching Trixie effortlessly captivate the crowd, Nik couldn't help but smile to herself, taking a swig of her beer. It had always been a running joke among them that Trixie was a siren, luring in unsuspecting admirers.

Nik observed the onlookers' reactions as Trixie's fiery red hair swirled through the air and her black mini-dress accentuated her every move,

She smirked knowingly at the men who couldn't tear their eyes away from her friend's allure. Knowing that Trixie might look like a vixen, but, she knew the boisterous tomboy underneath. Had watched her break bones, scrape knees, and swing baseball bats with freshly manicured nails.

Trixie's singing had people stamping their feet and clapping their hands in time to the music as they jumped around in circles, losing themselves. Trixie was able to make a bar full of strangers look like a whirlwind of friends.

Nik tapped her fingers on the table in time to the beat, her eyes lingering on the walls that were covered in photographs of punks, goths, bikers, and skaters, some pictures faded, yellowing, scribbled dates going back to the 1990s barely visible, others freshly pinned dated up to 3 years ago over them. The ceiling displayed a collage beer mats.

Nik frowned, thoughts about fire hazards entering her mind as a loud cheer erupted.

Trixie's impromptu decision to climb onto the bar, teetering precariously in her high heels, elicited an eye roll from Nik. The bartender's amused expression and the growing crowd's eager reception signaled that Trixie's antics were not unwelcome.

The bartender looked up at Trixie with a massive smile, a shake of his head, and held onto her ankles.

Trixie pointed a finger at Nik in the booth and yelled the lyrics into the mic, practically shouting, her tone still impeccable and her voice melodic.

Trixie's fingers beckoned Nik to stand up. Nik shook her head furiously, took a sip of her beer, and pointed to it - as if a glass in hand was any reason not to dance.

Trixie rolled her eyes and finally turned her attention back to the crowd, Her voice brash, slurring as she grasped people's hands and belted out the last lines of the song into their faces.

Nik studied Trixie's ridiculous heels on the bar and hoped she would not fall.

"Woo!"

Trixie burst into the seat, the force making the chair shudder beneath Nik. Strands of hair clung to her forehead, damp with sweat. A streak of smudged eyeliner marked the aftermath of her reckless dancing around.

"Better?" Nik asked, the crowd had filtered out towards the smoking area, some people returning to the bar, their faces rejuvenated from the impromptu show put on by Trixie- the machine began again, someone had decided it would be a good idea to follow her flawless performance.

"This place has been the best so far," Trixie's hair looked wild, her eyes alight from the rush of doing the thing she was best at.

"So, the crusade is over, finally," Nik stated to her friend throwing back a shot.

"Nik," Trixie folded her arms, "we've got nothing else to do this summer. Now we're both allowed to be at these places you'd think you have some fun."

Nik's attention shifted past Trixie, noticing a man with blue floppy hair swaggering towards them, his gaze fixed on Trixie's head.

Trixie followed her friend's eyes and was met with sweeps of electric blue eyeliner over coffee-colored eyes, lipstick a bright red that looked garish in comparison to his blinding white teeth. A chain ran from his nose to his ear; he wore a neon pink mesh t-shirt, covered by a leather-studded jacket, black jeans with rips, and muddy Dr. Martens. Mirrored glasses perched atop his head.

The man leaned against the booth, extending a metal-ringed hand toward Trixie.

"Hey," He said, a confident casual smile on his face.

Nik watched as her friend gave him an unforgiving once over, but he didn't balk from it, only smiled wider, Trixie took his hand, giving it a shake.

"Hey," She responded with a shrug.

The man took that as an invitation to squeeze beside Nik, she pulled her sleeves over her hands and looked to the floor.

Trixie swept her hair out of her face and huffed, annoyed but intrigued by the interruption.

"Name's Stef," he said, his confident smile lingering as he continued, head nodding toward the karaoke machine, "sounded good up there." The background noise of a poorly executed Kiss song underscored his words.

"Sing one with me?" Stef begged,

"Can you sing?" Trixie asked sweetly, a tilt of her head, but her eyes were cold, assessing the flamboyant punk rocker in front of her.

Nik looked back at the posters and pictures that covered the walls. Trying to ignore the fact that men were always approaching her friend, but never to sing with her.

"Guess you'll find out," Stef said, he stood and swaggered to the other side of the now empty dance floor, towards a man with blonde curls in a black jacket, jeans, and black Chuck Taylor's that matched Nik's - although hers were covered in scribbles, courtesy of Trixie.

Nik watched as Stef clapped the blonde on the back and signaled to the bartender.

"What was that about?" Nik looked at Trixie, but her eyes were still on the men at the bar.

"Not sure," Trixie said, watching as Stef walked to the machine and picked up the microphone, his eyes on the booth.Cha