Page 92 of Encounter

After what he said, at least I felt a little bit better about the outfit.

?

Here you go, Galen. You did this. Now, you have to deal with it.

Heart galloping in my chest, I walked slowly toward the club entrance, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people.

Others were supposed to meet me here, but I was a little late, thanks to the taxi driver who didn’t seem to have any idea where we were. How was I even supposed to find them? In the sea of dozens moving heads, I was lost, and my anxiety quickly used the opportunity to make me doubt they were ever going to show up.

Clenching my fists, I took a deep breath and reminded myself I had no reason to think so lowly of them. When I went to check my phone, I was interrupted by someone calling my name.

“Hey! Hey, there he is!”

“Galen!Yooo!”

Turning around and desperately trying to find where exactly the voices were coming from, I finally spotted some familiar faces waving at me from behind a large group of already highly intoxicated and obnoxiously loud girls.

A smile of relief flashed over my lips, but my heart didn’t calm. Instead, I made my way toward them with the pounding in my ears and sweat running down my back.

Why are you so nervous?! They were never nothing but nice to you. Get your shit together.

Fighting my way around the drunk crowds, I finally reached the group.

Stella already went in for the hug. She seemed to be the only one not catching onto my slight discomfort with such closeness, but I chalked it up to her extreme levels of being-an-extrovert. “Oh my god, I adore your shirt!” she beamed as soon as she let go, looking me up and down.

“Thanks,” I replied shyly, trying to force myself to take the compliment.

Stella was the very opposite of me. Everything Dad would probably love me to be—charming, outgoing, talented, and gorgeous. Maybe a little too outspoken and scantily clad for his tastes, but otherwise pretty close to perfect. Her long hair flowed all the way to her waist, and her face was made up to look as flawless as those Korean pop idols.

Behind her were the rest. Fabien smoked his cigarette—looking and holding himself like some French supermodel as always—while Ronnie showed Kevin something on the phone. They both glanced up to greet me.

Besides the few older people who went to the lessons because of their jobs—the businessmen and women who always sat at the back of the room and kept to themselves—the majority of the younger crowd was present. They were still a bit older than me, and I wondered if that was what made them seem so much friendlier.

Ronnie, Fabien, and I were the only ones who took the course to learn on top of doing our main, separate degrees. While Ronnie did it to prepare for their upcoming backpacking trip through China next year, it was just another hobby for Fabien. The absolute genius of a human took Mandarin because he ‘found it cool’ and was bored with the eight other languages he already spoke fluently. Saying he was a huge inspiration would have been an understatement...

The rest were either linguistic students—like Stella, Marly, or Jonas—or people in a similar situation to me.

“Ugh, finally!” Fabien groaned while Marly ran up to us. Seemed like they were waiting for her, not me.Good. “Let’s get in. Can’t wait to get buzzed,” he said in that charming French accent, grinning. Fabien’s aura automatically made him the unspoken leader of the group, but he was nothing like Blake or other bossy temperaments.

Smiling at everyone as our eyes met in a place of greeting, I followed the group toward the entrance.

The club was nothing like the one Zola and I went to—it was bigger, louder, and busier. The black bricks were lit with bright purple lights, and the goth, punk-rock-ish image translated into the interior as well. Everyone else seemed to be right in their element, while I tried to not let the inner fight to relax show on my face.

We found a free area to sit in the massive room with the dance floor spreading around the circular bar in the middle, while Stella and Jonas went to get us some drinks. Kevin spread out next to me, putting his arms over the top of the soft sofa headrest. Smiling wildly, he turned his attention to me.

“Looking very stylish today!” he noted in a fake posh accent. Even though I tried to seem confident, I found myself averting my eyes as I smirked in response.

“Yeah, I... only wear boring clothes to school, so I figured I‘d go all in,” I said, having to make sure to speak loud enough for him to hear me. The music was sharp, electronic, and so loud I felt like my gentle musician eardrums were going to explode.

Fabien joined in. “Glad you finally agreed to go out with us at least!”

“Right,” Ronnie agreed, crossing their legs. “You always seem so anxious in class and try so hard! Need to relax a bit!”

People keep saying that to me, don’t they?

Softly chuckling, I tapped my fingers on my knees—probably not helping the ‘trying to not look anxious’ bit and glanced over the dozens of dancing people to see if I could spot Stella and Jonas.

“They're taking their time, huh?” Kevin caught on, letting out a disgruntled sound.

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