The club sucked.
Addison stumbled out into the Ventura night at one AM, her heels clicking uneven patterns on the sidewalk and her head buzzing from too many vodka sodas. The bass still thumped in her skull, matching her pulse in a way that felt annoying instead of hypnotic. She'd spent four hours inside that overcrowded, overpriced shitshow watching mediocre hunters from various academies grind on each other like animals while bad EDM assaulted her eardrums.
Not one. Not a single fucking guy in there had managed to hold her interest longer than thirty seconds.
"Hey beautiful!" Some jackass in a Crimson Gate Academy hoodie jogged up beside her, his breath reeking of beer and desperation. "You leaving alone? That's a crime against nature."
Addison stopped walking and turned to face him with her best dead-eyed stare. "Fuck off."
"C'mon, don't be like that." He reached for her arm. "I saw you dancing earlier. You looked lonely."
