I wanted this to be longer but I figured if I waited any longer, I wouldn't publish this at all. So here you go. I hope you like it. Btw, for some reason, the inspiration to this came when I heard I Knew You Were Trouble by Taylor Swift o.O...

Breathe. Drink. Enjoy yourself. Forget all about the man that broke your heart. It was a to-do list for her. Phases. Checkpoints. Anything that made getting over him easier. Something easier said than done.

Rhythmic beats overlaying drunken happiness consumed most of the occupents of A Dying Wish. A club at the heart of the city. Famous for it's drinks and wide variety of music. Stretching from techno, to dubstep, and to rock. It was heaven away from heaven with a little taste of hell. Somewhere you can go to and forget all the bullshit that makes up your life. Get drunk, dance, maybe even get laid. Point is that you forget whatever crisis is happening. Even only for a few hours.

"Don't look so sad, Claire." Her best friend, Dylan, said. Noticing how she stared at her glass instead of drinking it's contents.

"Don't tell me what to do." She replied. Swirling the clear liquid around and around. Watching it slosh at the sides of the glass.

"He's still on your mind?"

Claire nodded. Cringing internally at the mention of him.

"Honey," Dylan started. Placing his hand over hers comfortingly. "There are going to be so many other guys out there just waiting for a girl like you. And when you meet one of those guys, you can't still be stuck on him." He pushes a loose strand of her hair back with his other hand. "Else you'll never be happy."

Claire smiled. If there was one person she could count on to make her feel better, it was Dylan.

"Take Alexei for example." He said pointing at the bartender. "Hey, Alexei! Come over here!"

From up the bar, a tall, tanned skin guy with pushed back black hair wearing a black Armani button down dress shirt walked up to them. He was a great looking guy. The kind that's great to look at but if you put the moves on him, he'll politely turn you down. That's what happened to Claire. It didn't bother her though. Just shrugged it off and went on with life. Dylan on the otherhand, well that's a different story.

"What's up Dylan." Alexei had a faint Russian accent. "Claire, Sweetheart."

"What do you think about dear Claire here?"

"What I think? She's a beautiful, intelligent, sweet, young girl who is to die for." Alexei said, a smile spreading on his face. "The list goes on. Why?"

"Breakup. Feeling 's our job to cheer her up."

"Claire, do I have to beat someone's ass?"

"Can we not use the words 'beating' and 'ass' around here. Makes my thoughts go all naughty." Dylan says, before takin a sip from his glass.

"What happened?" Alexei asked, leaning over the bar.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"That bad huh?"

She nods again.

"Listen, baby girl. Any guy that lets you go, is incredibly stupid and has no idea what he's lost."

"Can I get a fucking drink over here!" Someone yells drunkenly over the music from down the bar.

"Успокойтесь вы, блин, мудак, прежде чем пойти туда и ссать в ваш напиток!*" Yelled Alexei in response. "Keep your head up, Claire. Don't let any man bring you down."

He winks with a smile before moving down the bar. Dylan leans over the bar slightly, watching Alexei walk away. Checking out the man's ass. "Damn," he sighs. "If only, if only."

Claire smirks. "Be obvious, why don't you."

"Hey, Missy!" He wags an accusing finger at her. "I'm gay. Ain't got time to be discreet."

Claire laughs, and she finally throws back her drink. He sees the brightness come back to her cobalt eyes, and he can't help but smile himself. It's good to see her laugh.

"Well I suppose if I can't have him, I'll take the hot blonde eyeing me from way over there." He points to a guy standing near the wall with a drink in his hand and a shy smile on his face. He's cute. In a cherub kind of way. He certainly isn't the first one to be caught looking at Dylan with lust in their eyes. Dylan was stunning. Honey brown hair, hazel eyes, tanned skin, and dimples when he smiled. He was also fit. Dragging Claire to the gym almost six times a week for two or three hours. Because of that he had no problem showing off what he had.

Dylan wiggles his fingers at him and smiles invitingly. She can tell a blush stains his cheeks despite the little light in the club.

"What a pretty little wallflower."

"Go over to him, Casanova."

"And leave my Number One all by her lonesome?" He gasps, appalled. "I don't think so!"

She giggles, "I'll be fine. Promise. Besides, don't let me keep you from scoring tonight."

He pouts sadly, "are you sure?"

Claire nods. "I'll punch you if you don't go."

"Okay." He prepares to get up but stops. "Wanna be my wingman?"

"Go, stupid." And she pushes him in the Wallflowers general direction when something, or rather someone, catches his eye.

"Damn! Look at that hot piece of flesh over there!" He points across the dance floor. Behind the mass of drunk partiers.

"What?" She says confused as she looks in the direction he's pointing.

At the entrance of the club, a man gracefully made his way through people on his way to the bar.

"Behold, the dream of women and homosexual men everywhere. Let me guess. 6"5, built, natural blonde. Unfortunately, probably straight. B.U.T.B and a god in the sack."

"B.U.T.B?"

"Blessed under the belt."

"You're gross."

"I'm a gay man in his prime. This is what I thrive at."

"You're so stereotypical."

"Oh my god, he's coming this way!" He screeched like a thirteen year old girl.

"Cool." Claire said disinterested, sticking her thumb in the air. Turning her back to the crowd and focusing on her glass. Filled to the brim with jack. She smiled at Alexei, who was back and wiping down a spill a little to the right of her.

"On the house, Sweetie." He winked. "What can I get you, sir?" He asks politely, turning his attention to someone who just joined the bar.

"Gin and tonic." He answers. Velvet, silk, satin. A mixture of the three that raised small goosebumps on her skin. He's ethereal. Angelic and godlike. Smooth, light skin untainted from any blemishes or undesirable markings. Fair, neatly combed, gelled back hair. His clothing ensemble was solid. Black, maybe a darker shade of blue but she couldn't tell. From the shoes she spied stealthily under the bar by the leg of his barstool to the sunglasses he wore on his face. Odd, she thought. Why the hell would someone wear sunglasses in here? At night. With strobe lights going on.

"He's all yours, baby doll." Dylan whispers in her ear as he puts himself between them. "Excuse me." He says, tapping him on the shoulder. "I noticed you sitting here and-"

Oh god, what is he doing?

"I just thought I'd introduce you-"

Oh my god, Dylan. No!

"To my dear friend-"

Stop!

"Claire."

Shit!

Wave. Smile. Nod, anything. Just don't sit there like an idiot. "Hi."

Alexei placed a glance in front of him. He took it, swirled it around and threw it back. "Pleasure," he muttered absent-mindedly without so much as a glance at either Dylan or Claire.

"Well, I'm off." Dylan said, his eyes searching for his wallflower who was still planted in the same spot.

"Good luck," he whispered to her as he passed.

She was going to need it. The man beside her was stoic, and he barely moved. When he did, it was to bring the glass to his lips when it was filled again or to rub his temples. And even those movements were graceful.

"Take a picture. It will last longer." He said suddenly.

She looked away hastily. Not realizing she had been staring.

"Sorry," she muttered quickly.

Great first impression, Claire. She thought. Wait, I wasn't trying to impress him in the first place!

She was pretty, he had to say. Flame red hair falling around her shoulders. Matching the red dress she wore. But as he admired her, he vaguely remembers a saying told to him so long ago; where there is beauty there is pain. And he can tell she was in pain. Swallowed up, buried so deep it didn't show. But it was there and he saw it.

Though he thought her beautiful and held a slight curiosity toward her, it didn't mean he would acknowledge her in the slightest.

But as he sat down in the only available seat which was conveniently next to her and he ordered a drink, her friend decided upon himself that the two had to be introduced. When his drink came, he threw it back and greeted her with disinterest. Her friend left but he could still feel her eyes on him. He had that effect on most women he met.

"Take a picture. It will last longer." He remarked to which she muttered an apology and looked away. Clearly embarrassed. To be honest, he kind of liked the way she looked at him. When he took a glance at her, she was instead staring into her glass. Empty.

What the hell, he thought and turned to face her. "May I buy you a drink?"

It took her by surprise. Wasn't he just pretending she didn't exist? Now he wants to buy her a drink? Say yes, stupid. Her mind ordered her. "Uh, sure."

He gestured for Alexei to pour her another glass, then returned to being the silent force next to her.

"Thanks," Claire mumbled, sliding her thumb along the rim of the glass. Out of slight curiosity, she peeked at him from out of the corner of her eyes. Was that a smirk on his face?

"You're not very discrete." He said without looking at her.

Claire was caught off guard, he could tell by how her shoulders tensed slightly.

"Who said I was trying to be?" She replied, not trying too hard to keep the sassiness out of her voice. For some reason, that made him chuckle. Low and barely audible over the music. But she heard it and her shoulders relaxed some.

"You know, you never told me your name." She said, trying to break the tension.

"I'm not inclined to give it."

"Oh, well." She exhaled, getting ready to stand up and leave. "I'll just leave then."

"Stay," he said calmly.

Claire paused. Her body positioned somewhere in the middle of sitting and standing. She contemplated leaving for a moment, then sat back down. All she was leaving to was an empty apartment and a cold bed anyway. "Why?"

"I'm invested in your story. Albeit, only currently. Bartender," he called as he gestured to his empty glass.

"My story?" She said, her brows furrowing in confusion.

"The reason you look incredibly depressing in an expensive red satin dress."

She looks down at herself, smoothing the small, barely noticeable creases in the fabric. Dylan bought the dress for her to cheer her up. To get her out of the house. If she had to guess, she'd say Macy's, but she could be wrong.

"I um, just got out of a bad relationship."

She said it quietly. The words stinging her tongue in an annoying but non painful way. The stranger next to her was intriguing, and thoughts of the man who thought solely with the brain in his pants seemed like a mere fly buzzing around her head. Soon to be swatted.

"Cheater, liar, or beater?" He asked.

"The first two."

"My condolences."

"He was a dick anyway." She admitted, for the first time. "Guess I always go for the assholes." She allows a small smile when he takes a glance at her.

"What a shame."

Claire was quiet again. Staring down at the bottom of the glass filled with the clear liquid that had acompanied her for most of the night. "So," she said. "I guess I can call you Corey."

"Excuse me?" He said.

"You know. 'I wear my sunglasses at night. So I can, so I can.'" She sang. Moving her shoulder's a little as if she were dancing. His expression remained neutral. Embarressed, she clears her throat and throws back her drink. "Well I should head home. I've had way too many of these." She gestures to the glass.

As she stands, her world starts to spin and she stumbles. Someone catches her by her elbows before she falls over. "Maybe more than I thought."

*Calm down, you fucking asshole, before I go out there and piss in your drink!

I'm hungry for reviews so leave a few. Good or bad.

Chapter two on the way!

Ta-ta for now!