ONE
ONE
I don’t know exactly why I followed them. I’m not stupid, I swear… although, you could argue. I guess I just wanted to do something for once. Something risky. Something worth getting in trouble for… although, I didn’t know it at the time.
My birth name is Rebecca Lorraine DeMeyer. I was just an all-American 17-year-old girl about a year ago. I belonged to an incredibly wealthy family and I was an heiress. I guess that was what set me apart. My life wasn’t as great as you’d assume. I was limited to what I was allowed to do and I was overprotected. I was never out very much. In fact, I didn’t talk to many people. Besides going to my strict private school every day and attending family gatherings, I didn’t go anywhere else. That probably explains why I was so tempted to follow those boys that day.
I was walking home from school. Usually, my chauffeur would’ve been there, but I guess there was traffic. Three motorcycles raced by me, making me jump back. My perfectly tied-back ponytail flew to the side and I heard their low voices and eager shouts. Something fell from one of them. It was a key. I walked onto the street and picked it up. When I looked forward to see the motorcyclists again, they had already turned to a store at a corner. I had to return it to them, it was the right thing to do. And that’s exactly what I did.
I arrived at the store and saw the motorcycles parked. I entered and strolled along the aisles, hoping to find the boys. The store clerk noticed me struggling.
“Miss? Are you looking for something?”
"Someone,” I answered.
He watched me carefully with mysterious eyes. “Do you have the key?”
How does he know about the key? I thought. “Yeah, I have it.” I took it out from my pocket and showed it to the clerk.
“I’m Weever. Follow me,” he said and led me to the back storage room where a tall shelf of snacks was. He pulled the shelf and to my surprise, it was a door.
I walked inside and found myself in another room. When I turned around to ask Weever where I was, he had already shut the door. I was stuck in a tiny room with dim yellow lights that flickered above my head. I turned to the side and found another door, metallic brown and rusty. I turned the knob and found that it was locked. By then, I was more than frightened. I was stuck alone in a strange place. I panicked and banged on the door that Weever closed. “Let me out!” I screamed. There was no reply. And so I banged on the other door. There was still no reply. I didn’t feel too well. I felt nauseated. I felt very nauseated.
I put my ear against the door to try to hear something. There was music; loud music was playing. I placed my hand on the door. I could feel the heavy beats vibrating through the metal inside. My hand ran down the door until I reached the keyhole. Could it be a coincidence that I had a key with me?
It fit.
I turned the knob and pushed open the door. The music faded in and echoed loudly. The only thing guiding me through the dark hall was the faint trail of light.
I reached the end of the path turned to the left, and found myself inside of a club. The music was complete in volume, and eyes daggered on me as I walked uncomfortably down the area. I was the ultimate outcast. Girls were either dressed in revealing tops and short-shorts or low cut tees and tight black jeans. I was still in my button-up long sleeve shirt and mid-skirt, carrying a full backpack.
I saw the small stage clearly. Three boys were performing. Well, I wouldn’t say performing. They were more so shouting and rapping. A crowd watched and cheered for them. People were dancing all over each other. It was a different dance than what we had at my school formals. Way different.
I took a better look at the boys on stage and realized they were the motorcyclists I saw earlier. One of them had semi-curly brown hair and wore a lip ring. Another had a similar face but straight brown hair that was gelled up with peach fuzz . The one in the middle had dark hair to the side that drooped down a little like bangs; he appeared to be the oldest. One of the girls with red hair stood closest to the stage and kept passing smirks to the boy with the curly brown hair. There was a jar at the side of the stage where a ton of money was. Some people put coins and dollar bills inside as they performed to which the red-haired girl smiled at. She seemed like she was in charge of it.
The song ended and the boys hopped off stage. The girl hugged one of them and they all started chatting. I hurried over to them. I wanted to get out of the club as soon as possible.
“Hi.” I said.
The four of them shifted their attention over to me and the girl even passed me a dirty look.
“Do you need something?” The droopy-haired one asked.
“I have your key.” I answered and handed it to him.
The girl laughed, “Oh my God, how cute, you guys have your first psycho stalker fan.”
I couldn’t be mistaken. “Oh, no. I’m not a stalker. I saw you guys on your motorcycles and I followed you here when I—”
“Not a stalker, huh?” The boy threw the key and it slid until it hit the wall across from us.
“I’ll take care of this,” the girl said and grabbed me away with her.
“Listen, freak. I don’t know how you found us or how you got in here, but you gotta get out. We have a business to run here, and we can’t have little kids like you crash into our club. I mean how old you? Like twelve?”
“I’m seventeen.”
“Exactly. You’re not even supposed to be in here. This is a club. Not a church or whatever you’re dressed up like that for.”
“This is my school uniform. And I just wanted to return the key.”
“Fuck off.” She passed me another dirty look and walked away from me.
I felt misplaced, as I was. But oddly, I didn’t want to get out of there anymore. I wanted to stay. Even though that girl was being mean to me, I kinda wanted to know more about her. The whole atmosphere was strangely interesting to me. I wanted to stay. I wanted to meet the boys. I wanted to know everything about them and their lives.
However, I left.
It was the anxiety of my chauffeur looking for me that urged me to walk back to my school. The whole way, I couldn’t stop thinking about the club. I memorized the address and even got back the key where the boy had thrown it to so I could go back one day.
