“The car’s here!” she heard that night as she was zipped up the side zipper on her bondage lime green skirt. Quickly slipping on her black stilettos gladiators, she rushed out of the bedroom and towards the front door. 

“I will knock someone’s teeth out if they look at you wrong, starting with you my man! Just drive!” Justin mockingly pointed a warning finger at the chauffeur as Delia walked out of the villa towards him. She rolled her eyes and slipping passed into the backseat, but not before smiling and winking at the driver. 

“Don’t flirt with him, you hussy,” he joked, sliding into the seat next to him. Looking over at him, she checked out his simple and casual clothing. 

“Zip it, because I'll have to pull the broads off the nectar,” she quipped, raising an eyebrow in his direction. 

“What the hell does that even mean?” Justin guffawed, clapping his hands in joy. She shrugged, and bit her glossed lip to keep from laughing. 

“So, did I do ok with the clothes I packed?” he asked as the town car drove off towards the city of Port Louis. The concierge had recommended the Arena Nightclub in the city, known to be one of the best nightclubs on the island. 

“Yeah, you did well. But, I really wasn’t all that worried. I do have pretty awesome clothes,” she kidded, shrugging an indifferent shoulder. 

“Yeah, right,” he snorted, earning himself a playful smack on the thigh. Relaxing against the cool leather seats, Justin rolled the window down. The cool, humid breeze entered the car, whipping Delia’s hair every which way. 

“I think we’ll have to skip the tanning oil for the next couple of days and stick to the sunblock,” she spoke from besides him, and he turned his head to look at her. She was looking down at her legs and arms, noting the even bronzing tone. 

“I know, I was thinking the same thing in the shower. I haven’t had this awesome of a time in such a long time,” he joked, stretching out his arms to show his tan. Turning her eyes to look, she kept them on him and admired his olive green v-neck tee, black jeans, and black shoes. Something caught her eyes, and she couldn’t help but reach out for it. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you wear it,” she pointed out, twisting the silver tag between her fingers, careful not to tangle the chain. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” he apologized, and she knew what that meant. She probably hadn’t liked for him to wear her gift, and he’d pleased her request. 

“Shit happens,” she shrugged, trying to show indifference. 

“It shouldn’t have happened, and I’m sorry, Del,” he sincerely spoke, and she nodded in understanding. She held up her left handand tugged a similar, but thinner chain from under her white tank. Pulling it from its confines, he smiled as he saw the familiar tag. 

“You always did wear it,” he stated, reaching out his fingers to grasp the tag from her hands. He’d gifted the military tag jewelry for one Christmas, and she’d returned the gift the following Christmas. Etched into her, ‘My friend, Deli Delight’ had caused her both laughter and tears. 

“I could never come up with something that sounded right, but I tried,” she laughed remembering how long it’d taken her to decide on the inscription on his military tag. 

“And it’s perfect because it’s so you,” Justin said, looking down at the writing on his tag, ‘Mon Ami, TinTin.’ 

“And I even went looking for all the comics,” he admitted, and she looked up surprised. 

“Really?” she asked. 

“Yeah, I remember how you spent like an hour explaining to me the reason behind the message? You told me all about how your mom would read the comics to you and Brayden as little kids. That’s how y’all learned French,” he remembered, and she felt her eyes mist at the mention of her late brother. He’d been a dancer at Millenium Studios is LA, and that’s how he’d met Justin. When it was time for Delia to go off to college, she’d chosen to go to USC to be closer to him. And, that’s when she’d met Justin. At first, they hadn’t been too fond of each other – she’d met him during his Justified arrogant stage and he saw her as a prude and snob. 

But, they say that tragedy brings people together. And in 2003, Brayden’s life was cut short by a drunk driver on the Pacific highway. Delia had leaned, heavily, on Justin for support during this time, and their friendship had evolved. He helped her get past her grief and back into school. 

“I didn’t mean to make you sad,” he softly spoke, taking her hand into his. Her eyes rose to his face, and she gave him a small sad smile. 

“It’s ok. I just miss him, that’s all,” she replied, squeezing her hand back. The car came to a stop then and they both looked out the window. The thump from the nightclub’s bass could be felt in the seats of the car, and the mood quickly changed. 

“Well, let’s go have fun. For Brayden…” Justin announced, pushing the door open and reaching back inside to offer her a hand. Grasping his firm hand, she carefully eased out of the car, afraid she’d flash something. There was no line out front, so they quickly got in through the front door and into the dark club. Neon light lasers created a mock-ceiling about gyrating bodies. The DJ booth sat high on a platform in the corner, and small booths lined up the walls on either side of the open dance floor. 

“Want a drink?” Justin yelled over the noise, motioning towards the brightly lit bar. Nodding her response, he pulled her through the crowd. Coming up to the bar, he ordered two rum shooters plus one Mai Tai and a beer. 

“We’re not easing into it?” she questioned, hearing his order. He smirked before shaking his head, and handing over his credit card to the bartender. Taking the two rum shooters, he handed one to Delia and one for himself. Holding it up in toast, he smiled down at her. 

“To Brayden, to peace, and to us!” he rejoiced before tapping her glass and tossing back the shooter. Following his actions, Delia tossed back the shooter. Both scrunched their faces as the rum burned down their throats. 

“I prefer tequila,” they simultaneously exclaimed, before laughing and taking the Mai Tai. 

“Plus deux,” Delia gestured to the bartender. He nodded and set about fixing two more shooters. 

“More?” Justin asked, shaking his head. She smirked and nodded her head, handing it over to him. 

“To love, heartache, and friends!” she exclaimed, tapping her glass against him and tossing it back. 

“Whoo!” he yelled, swallowing the burning rum. He motioned for two more, and the bartender gladly served them up. Soon, they’d each tossed back 5 rum shooters. 

“Come on, it’ll get better,” she yelled, taking their shooter glasses and setting them on the bar. Grabbing his hand, she led him away from the bar and over to the dance floor. Lifting their hands in the air, she turned and pressed her body against his front. Her hips swung from side to side, moving to the rhythm blasting through the speakers. Each held a drink in one hand, and the other held each other. 

i'm traveling without her somewhere far away
i keep thinking about her but i know i can't stay
she haunts me like a nightmare her image is everywhere
she doesn't leave me alone
i can't escape her or erase her
when i know she's not coming home 

So, maybe this wasn’t the best song to be dancing to, but Delia was determined to erase Justin’s mind. He tended to over think things too much, just like her. Wrapping his arm around her waist, she let the heavy bass and techno beat take over her body. Techno wasn’t her usual cup of tea, but sometimes it was just necessary to let go. 

i can't understand where i went wrong
i can't understand where her love has gone
i don't know where i belong
my world is over
when life goes on (her world goes on) and on and on
(her world goes on)
when life goes on (her world goes on) and on and on
(my world is gone)

She could Justin’s movements and the fluidity in his body brushed against her own. Those rum shooters were quickly sinking to her feet and racing their way through her blood. The bass controlled her legs, her hips, and her entire body. Justin’s face came to rest in her neck as his body followed her movements. 

am i crazy or just human
is this what heartbreak is
what should i be doing
it feels like i got seconds to live
she haunts me like a nightmare her image is everywhere
she doesn't leave me alone
i can't escape her or erase her
when i know she's not coming home 

She was surprised that he was so willing to allow her to lead. Usually, whenever they went out, she was rushing to keep up with him. He was a great dancer, and the only reason she could keep up with him was because of Brayden. She used to go to dance classes with him, but it was never something she had a passion for. But, he’d always practice with her whenever he had a routine coming up.

i can't understand where i went wrong
i can't understand where her love has gone
i don't know where i belong
my world is over
when life goes on (her world goes on) and on and on
(her world goes on)
when life goes on (her world goes on) and on and on
(my world is gone)

“Why I’ve never see this skirt is beyond me? You should wear it more often,” he spoke against her shoulder before raising his beer to his lips. Tossing back a gulp, he pulled her back closer to him and she only laughed. He was beginning to get drunk, and this is where the friskiness would commence. 

“Watch those hands, TinTin,” she warned, pushing his hands from where they were snaking down her hips and thighs. 

“Deli Delight, do you really blame me?” he half-moaned, twisting her body. Pressing her front to his front, his body led them through the heavy techno beat of the new song. His hand held her at her lower back, firmly pressing against him. He moved them around the dance floor with grace, eventually finding them at the bar again. Depositing their empty drinks, they both picked up two beers. 

And leading them once more, they found themselves gyrating in the center of the crowded dance floor. Sweat soaked his tee and a coat of sheen covered her arms. The alcohol was freely flowing for the both of them, and they were having a great time. Over all the years of friendship that they shared, their nights out had never resembled this. The tension between was thick enough to cut with a knife. 

Closing in on the three o’clock hour of the early morning, the club did the last call. Rushing to grab two last rum shooters, they happily tossed them back. The water/liquor ratio in their bodies was unimaginable. Stepping outside to the muggy night, they flagged down their car and climbed in the back seat. 

Justin sat, slouched against the seat with his eyes nearly closing on him. His head lulled to the side and looked at Delia, head-to-toe. 

“You look very pretty tonight,” he slurred, alcohol lacing his voice. Delia giggled, a drunken giggle before choosing to serenade her companion. 

“You think I’m pretty without any makeup on…” she began, twisting her body to face him, a sexy, yet playful look on her face. Biting his lip, he tried to resist. But, he lost. 

“Come ‘ere,” he half-growled, before wrapping his hand around the back of her neck and pulling her atop him. She lay half on his upper body, and the other half on the leather seat. His lips smashed against hers, and they moved in silky synchronization. Her arm snuck behind him and held onto his lower back, and her hand caressed the side of his face. Her hair shadowed their faces from the passing citylights. If her skirt hadn’t been so tight, she might’ve been straddling him by this point. 

What was a thirty minute ride felt like minutes to them as they continued their oral dance recital. Breathy moans and sighs would be heard, and the driver would occasionally sneak a peek through the rear-view mirror. At any intersection that he stopped the car, he’d shake his head and laugh at the pair that had no knowledge of the world around him. 

“Shit, we’re here,” Justin breathed, pulling Delia away by her hair, tightly tangled in his fingers. She nodded, and sat up as smoothly as possible. The driver snaked around the back of the vehicle to open the door for them. Justin stumbled out first, before reaching in and helping a slightly more inebriated Delia. 

“Take the damn shoes off,” he ordered after miserably failing to walk alongside her. She pouted before removing her four-inch heels. The driver drove off, and left the couple stumbling into their temporary abode. 

“I had so much fun!” Delia exclaimed, tossing her shoes off to the side of the front door. Her flailing arms would make her stumble, which in turn, forced Justin keep both of them standing upright. 

“Let’s get to bed,” Justin suggested, shoving her in the direction of her bedroom. She stumbled but caught herself on the nearby dining chair. 

“Let’s go all the way tonight, no regrets!” she horribly sang, before dissolving in giggles. Justin shook his head, amused at her drunken antics. Leading her into her bedroom, she pulled him in for another kiss. 

“Stay with me,” she breathed against his neck, having shoved him against the wall next to the doorway.