Before the beat drops

This is a work of fiction…

I was in the process of getting ready.

Ready for what, you may ask.

Ready to kill.


I am not a killer. Or maybe I am. That’s what all my jilted lovers said, anyway.

I sprayed on my perfume – my signature scent. If this didn’t make anyone go nuts – nothing would. It was a feminine scent with a hint of mystery and freshness. I wasn’t one of those women who was going to pretend to be above all of this. I liked pretty things. So what?

I inspected myself with a critical eye and smiled.

Time to kill.

I have a question for you….why do you think people go to bars? Pubs? Discos? Or ‘lounges’ which are bars but we like to call them by some other name to um appear to be cool or whatever it is that we like to do to show off.

I believe it is for a variety of reasons. For example – I could always spot the stressed out, married males on Friday nights. They’d have that weary look that only people who hate their jobs and their wives have. They came to zone out. 

And then there would be a gaggle of girls who would most probably be giggling away, ordering cheap cocktails in their itsy bitsy dresses. College kids, pretending to have a girls night out while most of them were secretly hoping for some cute guy to approach them. 

There would be an assortment of some middle aged people too at times – who would look like complete misfits with their bellies and double chins. All a part of the eco – system. They came to feel young and let their hair down before going back to the grind of grocery shopping and dropping their kids to school.

There would be the lone wolves – who would basically look super creepy and were potential sexual offenders.

And then the stags…they would be there in pairs…or groups of 2…3 or more. You could always spot the alpha in the group. He’d be the one who would be looking my way. 

But it didn’t matter. I went there for the music and the music alone. Anyone who wanted to talk to me would have a pretty tough time for I would have lost interest by the time the beat dropped.

Music was my escape…and dancing with a bunch of strangers in a room (and my room mate Naina) just made me feel like I was a part of a tribe but I wasn’t. I could do this alone, in my room…I didn’t need to smoke weed or drink a dozen shots to get high. Music was my drug…

You get me, don’t you?


Hey guys! If you liked this story – hit the like button and subscribe to my blog and be a part of the fam!

I am also recommending stuff that I like so if you are into fiction try out this book by Erin Morgenstern. It is for those who love fantasy with a little bit of romance thrown it! Cheers – let me know what you think!


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