AS JOHNNY STEPPED OUT OF THE LIMO, THE USUAL WAVE OF MAYHEM HIT HIM. Screams erupted from all directions as fans and bloggers jostled for position, snapping photos and yelling his name. Girls were pushing through the crowd, some holding up signs, others just trying to catch his eye. Normally, this would have been a perfect opportunity for him to flash a grin, give them a wink, and revel in the attention. But tonight, something about it all felt off.

"Johnny! Johnny! Is that your new girlfriend?" a blogger called out from the side, their camera zooming in on him and Charlie.

The question made him cringe internally. The idea of calling Charlie anything close to a girlfriend was borderline absurd, especially after what she'd told him in the limo. That whole killed someone confession had given him a serious chill, and now, even thinking about her in any way remotely romantic was out of the question.

"She's my... friend," Johnny answered, though his voice lacked its usual charm. The words came out stiff, as if he wasn't even sure of them himself. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "We go way back."

The blogger raised an eyebrow, looking over at Charlie, who stood there with the same emotionless expression, completely unfazed by the commotion. The camera guy didn't press for more, quickly glancing back at Johnny before snapping a few more shots and moving on.

As they made their way inside, Johnny kept his hands firmly in his pockets, too rattled to even consider throwing his arm around her. The memory of that chilling statement still lingered, but he wasn't about to let it ruin the night.

Once inside, the club's atmosphere hit him like a wave. The thumping bass of the music vibrated through his chest, and the lights flashed in time with the beat, casting neon hues across the crowd. 

Bodies moved in sync on the dance floor, lost in the pulsing rhythm, while laughter and loud chatter filled the air. The VIP section was packed with the usual crowd—beautiful people lounging on sleek, leather couches, bottles of champagne glittering on the tables.

Johnny made a beeline for the bar, Charlie still by his side. Her presence didn't feel as heavy as it had earlier, but he could tell she was still on edge, scanning the room with her sharp, calculating eyes. He ordered a drink, then glanced at her.

"You want one?" he asked, his tone casual as he took the glass from the bartender.

She didn't even blink. "No."

Johnny shrugged. "Suit yourself." He took a long sip, savoring the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat. He was already starting to loosen up. The music, the crowd, and the energy of the place were working their usual magic, pulling him back into his comfort zone.

As the night wore on, Johnny began to feel more like himself again. He downed another drink, easing into the buzz, and for a while, he almost forgot about the earlier weirdness. The familiar, electric vibe of the club brought him back to life. He laughed, chatted with a few friends, and cracked a couple of jokes with people in passing.

At some point, he caught sight of a girl standing near the edge of the dance floor, her eyes lingering on him. She was tall, with long dark hair and a tight dress that shimmered in the lights. The way she glanced at him, a subtle smile playing on her lips, was unmistakable. She was definitely checking him out.

Johnny grinned to himself, the confidence returning in full force. He was used to this, after all—being the center of attention, the guy everyone wanted a piece of. He turned back to Charlie for a second, half-expecting her to react or even notice the exchange, but she was still in her own world, calm and collected as ever, surveying the crowd like she was still on a job.

He chuckled under his breath and shook his head. She wasn't the partying type, that much was clear. But that didn't mean he couldn't have fun. Taking another sip from his glass, Johnny turned his attention back to the girl by the dance floor, giving her one of his signature grins.

Johnny caught sight of the dark-haired girl as she eyed him from across the room, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. He knew that look—he'd seen it a thousand times before. Flashing his trademark grin, he strolled over to her, confidence radiating with every step.

"Hey," he said, leaning in just enough for her to hear over the pounding music. "I couldn't help but notice you noticing me."

Her laugh was soft, teasing, as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You sure it wasn't the other way around?"

"Maybe," he replied, flashing her a cocky smile. "But I figured, why wait? We could skip the whole 'pretending not to care' part and get to the fun stuff."

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And what's the 'fun stuff'?"

Johnny grinned, offering her his hand. "Come dance with me and find out."

The girl didn't hesitate, slipping her hand into his as they made their way to the dance floor. The beat thrummed through the room, the lights flashing in sync with the rhythm as bodies swayed and moved in unison. 

Johnny knew how to move—his energy infectious as he spun her around, pulling her close, then letting her drift just far enough to keep her wanting more.

As they danced, her body pressed against his, she leaned into his ear. "You know you're being watched, right?"

He followed her gaze to the edge of the crowd, where Charlie stood, ever-watchful and expressionless, arms folded as she tracked his every move. Johnny sighed, the moment losing some of its charm. "Yeah, that's my bodyguard."

"Bodyguard?" she echoed, sounding both impressed and amused. "Must be exhausting having someone tail you all the time."

"You have no idea." Johnny chuckled, but his frustration was clear. "I wish I could just have one night to myself without someone breathing down my neck."

The girl's lips curled into a sly smile. "Maybe we can make that happen."

Johnny raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the mischievous look in her eye. "I'm listening."

She leaned in, her voice barely a whisper. "What if we ditched her? Just you and me?"

Johnny grinned, the idea lighting up his mischievous side. "Now that sounds like my kind of plan."

He glanced around the club, eyes landing on the DJ booth. The flashing lights above it sparked an idea, and he turned back to the girl with a wink. "Give me a second."

Wasting no time, he made his way to the DJ, slipping a hefty tip into his hand. "Think you can crank up the lights, make things a little crazier?"

The DJ, recognizing Johnny instantly, nodded with a grin. "You got it, man."

Within moments, the club was transformed. The psychedelic lights overhead flickered on, casting swirling, kaleidoscopic patterns across the room. The beat grew louder, more intense, and the crowd responded in kind, their dancing becoming wilder, more erratic. The colors and chaos disoriented everyone, including Charlie, who struggled to keep track of Johnny amidst the frenzy.

Perfect.

Johnny grabbed the girl's hand, grinning as he whispered, "Let's go."

🔥

Charlie's vision swam slightly as she adjusted to the chaos of the club. The pulsating lights and frenetic movement of the crowd made it difficult to keep track of Johnny and the girl. She moved through the throng of bodies, each step bringing her closer to finding him. Her focus narrowed to the last person Johnny had interacted with—the DJ.

Navigating the sea of swaying dancers, Charlie's gaze locked onto the DJ booth, where the DJ himself was surrounded by equipment and an air of nonchalance. The DJ's smirk did nothing to reassure her, and his eyes darted around, clearly trying to avoid her gaze. Charlie approached him with purpose, cutting through the noise and movement.

"Where did he go?" Charlie's voice was firm, cutting through the music. She leaned over the booth, her expression unwavering.

The DJ's grin remained, though it was tinged with an edge of irritation. "No idea what you're talking about. He's just another face in the crowd, you know?"

Charlie's eyes narrowed. She wasn't in the mood for games. She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I'm not asking again. Where. Is. He?"

The DJ's snarky demeanor faltered slightly, but he kept up his pretense. Before he could say another word, Charlie's hand moved with practiced ease, retrieving a sleek, razor-sharp blade from her coat. She pressed it against the DJ's leg with just enough pressure to send a clear message, but not enough to draw blood—yet.

The DJ's eyes widened in fear as he felt the cold steel. A gasp escaped his lips, and he attempted to pull away, but Charlie's grip on the blade was firm. The club's thumping beat seemed to fade into the background as the DJ's face turned a ghostly shade.

"Look, I don't think you're that bright," Charlie said, her tone icy and menacing. "So I'm going to ask you one more time. Where is Johnny Storm?"

The crowd around them was oblivious to the threat unfolding in their midst. Their attention was entirely absorbed by the pulsating lights and booming music. Charlie's presence was like a dark, ominous shadow amidst the revelry, unnoticed and unremarked upon.

The DJ, now visibly sweating, pointed shakily in a direction, his voice barely a whisper. "He—he went that way. Through the VIP section, I think."

She released the blade from his leg, the DJ flinching in relief as she did so. She gave him one last piercing look before turning swiftly on her heel. The DJ's hands trembled as he adjusted his stance, trying to regain his composure as he resumed his role, the music cranked up to mask the earlier confrontation.

Charlie's pursuit led her to the VIP section of the club, a more refined area where the music was still loud but the chaos was slightly more controlled. The lights here were more muted, casting a sophisticated glow over plush velvet couches and low tables. Her eyes scanned the room quickly, searching for any sign of Johnny or the girl he had been with.

As she approached the entrance to the VIP section, she spotted Johnny's leather jacket slung over one of the couches. Her heart raced. If Johnny's jacket was here, then he must have been around recently. Eager to locate him, she pushed forward, but her path was blocked by a large security guard stationed at the entrance.

The guard, with his imposing frame and stern expression, eyed her critically. "Hey, you," he said in a no-nonsense tone. "What's your name?"

Charlie maintained her composure, though her patience was wearing thin. "Charlie Madden."

The guard flipped through a clipboard filled with names, his eyes scanning the list. After a few moments, he looked up, his face showing clear skepticism. "You're not on the list. This is a VIP area, and access is strictly controlled. If you're not on the list, you can't come in."

Charlie frowned, trying to keep her frustration in check. "I'm Johnny Storm's bodyguard. I was just hired. I need to find him."

The guard's eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Johnny Storm? And how am I supposed to verify that? He's not mentioned here, and I'm not about to take your word for it."

Charlie took a deep breath. "Look, I don't have time for this. I need to find him now."

The guard shook his head and spoke into his walkie-talkie, relaying her name and the situation to someone on the other end. As he spoke, Charlie could see the lack of concern on his face. After a brief conversation, he turned back to her with a dismissive look. 

"Mr. Storm says he doesn't know any Charlie Madden. I've dealt with crazy fans before, and I've seen it all. Have you considered writing fanfic or seeing a therapist?"

Charlie's eyes narrowed at his condescending tone, but she kept her voice steady. "No, I haven't. I'm here to do my job, not discuss my personal life."

The guard seemed unfazed by her response. He continued to scrutinize her, his attitude more patronizing than ever. "Well, if you're not on the list and Mr. Storm doesn't recognize you, I'm afraid I can't let you in. It's my job to keep this area secure."

As he spoke, a large man approached the entrance. He flashed a VIP pass with ease, and the guard immediately checked the name against his list. With a nod, he allowed the man entry without any hesitation.

Charlie's frustration grew as she watched the man walk in effortlessly. Determined not to let this setback stop her, she decided to take action. As the guard was momentarily distracted by the new arrival, she slipped past him, her eyes fixed on the VIP area.

The guard, noticing her maneuver, snapped his attention back. "Hey! Stop right there!"

Charlie didn't look back as she moved swiftly through the VIP section. She could hear the guard's voice rising in frustration behind her as he called for backup. "I need a second guard over here! We've got a situation!"

Despite the commotion, Charlie's focus remained on finding Johnny. She navigated through the crowd of exclusive guests, her eyes darting around for any sign of him. The atmosphere in the VIP area was charged with a different kind of energy—more sophisticated, but still rowdy.

The music had a deeper, more resonant bass in this section, the lights casting a dim but inviting glow. As she pushed through the crowd, her determination intensified. She needed to find Johnny and ensure his safety, especially after what had happened earlier.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. An ear-piercing scream cut through the VIP area, louder and more jarring than anything the club's music could produce. The noise caused heads to turn and conversations to halt abruptly. Charlie's heart skipped a beat as she rushed toward the source of the commotion, her senses on high alert.