In a dark club, deep in the heart of the city depths. A gothic club, where smoke pours from the underneath the doors. It intrigues one, you feel drawn to it. Mesmerised. You can't get away. Within the club, after you walk in through the massive double doors, and marvel at the sheer opulence of the whole entire place. It has high walls and intricate ceilings, covered with mirrors. Every type of person that you could ever imagine, resides here. Children of the night. Sleep through the normal waking hours of the day, and then they come here. To dance. To get away from the everyday pressures that everybody seems to know. They dress up. The dress code - whatever. Leather fantasy. Vinyl restraints. Little girl, pretty outfits. Every type of dress that there is, it's there. Like a twisted fashion parade. Mind you, every one of these people is perfect. Not in that silly 'supermodel' type of perfection, but perfect in themselves. No one there has any sort of hang ups about the way that they look, the way they dance or even the way they speak. Because of this strong self assurance, everyone there is happy. Maybe in a really twisted perverse way. 

Drugs are freely handed out. They try not to do it in public, but in the rest rooms, you'll see the deals happening. There will be people using everything imaginable, very freely. So freely you'll start to wonder whether or not it is worth to have any sort of law on drugs after seeing these people. Of course, like any other place, any sort of overdose is covered up. Death is not a promotional thing. In fact it does quite the opposite and it is discouraged from happening on the premises. Although there are restrictions on things like this, death does occur. But, what can one do about it? Nothing, really. Any how, let me lead you deeper into this fantasy world. Give me your hand. I'll take you. Show you around and then you're on your own. But don't worry, I'll keep a close eye on you anyway.

Tight leather gear really suits you. I think you should look like this more often. Sexy. Any way, I'm going to look around. Maybe you should do the same thing. Go on circulate. There's a phone out the back. Give me a call on the cellular if you're going to leave. You have cab fare to get home? Good. Cya. Lay ya.

You're all by yourself now. Your guide has disappeared into a mass of writhing bodies. You go to the bar. Order a drink. A tall stunning girl comes up to you. Asks you to dance. You go. You begin to move slowly, get into the beat. After a few songs, you both go back to the bar.

'Excuse me?' she says, leaning over to you. Her rich cockney voice filling your ears. Just to make sure that you can hear every word that comes out of her seductive mouth. 'Do you fuck as well as you dance?'

You smile, slowly. Seductively. What else can you do?

'Are you as hot in the bedroom as you are on the dance floor?'

You nod yes. Of course you are.

'Oh really?' she smiles. 'Cya, lay ya.'

She puts her arms around you. Both of you turn to leave. Another stunning girl comes with you as you all pile into the cab. Calling your guide is the last thing on your mind now. You go to her place. It's not really important what it looks like so you won't describe it. It has a bed. That's all that matters to you right now. She leans over and whispers to you.

'Go on git your kit off!'

The other girl with you starts to remove her scanty dress. She turns to her.

'No, not you. Put it away. Take your dog like face to another place, 'cos I can't look at it.'

She turns back to you and smiles slowly. Lays out a few lines of cocaine.

'Let's get twisted.'

She inhales a line of coke and gestures for you to do the same. As you do, she moans, 'Twisted.' Feeling the coke rush around in her head. You both start to undress and begin to writhe on the middle of her bed, as the other girl joins in and you end up having a threesome. She leaves you for a bit and snorts some more coke. Getting more and more out of it.

'Excuse me?' you hear her vaguely say. 'Do you know where the dealers are? I mean, can you get me high? You've lost the fucking plot. Why shouldn't I?'

She rolls over on her back and begins to mumble. Naked skin glistening in the street lights. The light bounces off her perfect breasts.

'I wanna be wicked, running through my veins. I wanna feel the drugs fucking up my brain. I wanna dance all night and fuck all day. I want cocaine on a breakfast tray. Is that okay?'

You mumble some response. Your words slurred. The effects of the drugs taking their toll. She then turns on. Some how spurred on by what you mumbled. She understood although you couldn't even decipher it for yourself.

'Think you're pretty hot, huh? Well you're not. You're trying too hard. You ain't sex on legs. You're dregs on legs now and you know it. Git outta my face. If you could see yourself now, you'd turn away. I did.'

The words just barely penetrate your foggy brain. But you manage a response.

'Bitch.' You hiss through your teeth. 'How dare you!'

She looks reasonably contrite. Well as reasonable as she could, drugged out like she was.

'I'm sorry. I'm out of it.' she gestures to the girl lying half on the bed, half off it. 'So's she. What she like? I hate her.' Her voice then takes on a petulant tone. 'I love you.'

She blinks ,trying to get her thoughts together, as you melt as her words. Then she goes back to being like she was.

'I don't wanna come down. I wanna stay high. I wanna get twisted. I'm that kind of gal.' She looks at you again. 'So lay ya.'

She then looks at the drugs that surrounds him. Her face becomes bitter and twisted. She was high but not mellow. Drunk but not happy.

'I'm sick and tired of shit drugs and naff queens. Do you know what that means? It's over. I'm bored with you. You can't keep up and I don't wanna come down.'

She gestures to the outside world. Only seen through a crack in the window shades.

'Is there anyone out there, who isn't bad luck? Ride with me? I don't give a fuck. I'm losing control. I'm outta my head. Whose coming with me? I ain't going to bed!'

She tries to get up but only falls down again. She looks at you. Her gaze malevolent.

'You've heard enough now. Do you know the score? I made it pretty clear. I've shown you the door. It's easy this way. I'll do it all on my own.'

She looks at you as you reach for a pen to write down your number. Just in case.

'Put that pen away. I won't bother to call. Git outta here. Cya. Lay ya.'

The dismissal was clear to you. You turn to leave. Just before you leave you hear her speak again.

'Twisted.'

Saying it like it was her catch phrase. You shrug. There's nothing that you can do now. She's in her own little twisted element. May god help her. You think. You leave her place and call a cab from a nearby phone booth. You turn to get into the cab and you remember. You didn't even find out her name. A twisted night spent with her. And you don't even know her name. But those rich cockney tones will haunt you and you will remember her for a long time after this. Her twisted drugged moods and the way she said to you. I love you. Even though it didn't mean anything when she said it.