Prologue

                                        

                                              

Night- A term that meant different for different people. It was the latter part of the day, the remaining twelve out of twenty four hours. The sun worked ruthlessly for the first twelve while the moon took over his ass for the next twelve. Day and night as people call it. In the most basic sense, night was meant for people to stay home, recharge their batteries and get fucked up by their nightmares. That was the kind of shit induced in the brains of primary school toddlers.
But when humans grew into something with curves and muscles, they realize the importance of these twelve hours in their own twisted ways. The first twelve were for everyone in the world to see while the rest were locked behind doors and bars. What happened there, only the the sinners knew. Of course the night shift employers were an exception. 
A young woman sat on a bar stool, her elbows and back leaned towards the bar table, her bare legs resting under the support. Her fingers curled around the cool surface of the glass. She downed the last sip of the drink that matched the color of her red lipstick and felt the liquid seep through her throat. The ice cubes clanked against the glass as she shook it, back and forth. She stared at the glass for the longest time until she placed it on the table. Finally, she turned her head to the man in white shirt. 
She pressed a finger to her lips, letting it remain for barely a second before removing it. "One more please," she requested with a sheepish smile.
The man before her returned her smile before leaning forward to plant a kiss at her still raised finger. "Sure cupcake," he replied and ordered another glass of cocktail from the bartender. 
After he fetched the drinks, they settled behind one of the tables. As she listened to his not- so- interesting conversation about the current status of his stock market, she chose to scan the place. She glanced upon the neon light above them. It kept blinking, making screeching sounds as it breathed it's last moments. At the bar, a stout bartender kept pouring drinks to the customers, looking as bored as the lecturers in her college. Unsatisfied even. Maybe his wife didn't provide him enough pussy. Poor fella. In front of him, four men sat, drinking and laughing like animals. At one corner of the table were another group of three men, throwing dirty looks her way. 
Small, stinky, cheap.
She accidentally caught those horny men ogling at her once again. She didn't blame them. She was aware how edible she was but that didn't stop her from wanting to gauge their eyes out. It was then she noticed the number of women present in the bar that were limited to the fingers of her hand. She shifted the skin color handbag, closer to her side, feeling oddly comfortable with the knowledge of the pepper- spice spray inside it. 
She shot a fake smile at Manit, the handsome, young man sitting next to her. So much for earning twenty nine thousand per month and bringing her to a stinky bar like this. He should stick it up to his ass for all he cared. Hymph, he should have just told her if he didn't want to donate his money for the drinks. Perhaps she made a wrong decision tonight. 
"Would you like to have anything else, Ma'am?" he spoke, his tone deep and clasped his large hand above hers. His fingers played teasingly, sending slow chills up her arm. 
What was that about wrong decision again? I forgot already. 
"No, thanks, Manit. That will be enough," she answered, without sounding like a naughty hoè she was. Fuck. Who cared about the amount of money he spent, as long as he had those large, pleasurable hands. Oh, how she longed for those fingers to roam around her body and reach where they belonged the most. 
She met Manit through Instagram. She wouldn't be shameless to admit that she followed him back, entirely based on his handsome pictures. A string of chats followed, which soon turned into sexting. More picture stalking, more chats and even more cyber stalking. Fast forward the chatting formalities and here they were— Their first, and hopefully, their last night. This had to be the first time she chose an Instagram man. First hand experience baby!