Page 19 of The Oath We Give

Honestly though? If someone asked me, I’d probably just tell them to go fuck themselves.

I use the cover of smoke to slip through the lounge of Vervain, a popular hookah bar among the locals of West Trinity Falls and an illusive escape for outsiders.

Fruity. Spicy. Earthy. Heady.

The different flowers and herbs burn into scent smoke, giving everything a hazy filter. My skin tingles as my favorite drug begins to kick in, making my skin buzz. Like lightning is just off in the distance, closing in to my position, ready to strike me at any time.

When I make it to the back, an exit door is illuminated in a red neon glow. One bouncer stands off to the side, dressed in black, towering over the patrons in the bar with a harsh stare.

I open my clutch, grabbing an old crinkled gum wrapper, and hand it over to the menacing man in front of me. He holds it between two fingers, glancing down briefly to read the words scrawled across the inside of the aluminum paper.

Silent Mirage.

The password is correct. My dress is just short enough. And luck is on my side tonight, or maybe it’s the silver smokey eye and deep purple lipstick. Possibly a combination of all of them. Either way, he nods his head toward the exit, and I slip by him to press my hand to open it.

When the false door opens, fake fog leaks out around my ankles. I sneak deeper into the pits of Vervain and find myself in a toxic haven reserved for two Saturdays out of every month.

The speakeasy-inspired nightclub is alive.

Glowing. Buzzing. Burning.

It’s a combination of the kaleidoscope of colors inside and the Ecstasy. I’m floating as I make my way through, mind spinning as I admire the neon tubes tracing intricate patterns along the walls, ceiling, and floor.

Music thumps through my veins. It’s never sounded better than in this moment. All of my inhibitions are lowered, and all my mind can think about is finding nirvana.

In the dark of night, I seek artificial happiness to fill the void of my empty days.

I make my way to the translucent bar in the heart of the club, lit from within to create the perfect visual effect for someone tripping. When I get to the edge, my hands find the cool material of the counter, letting it cool off my warm body.

I look around at the people circulating the bar from every direction, the round build giving the bartenders a full 360 pathway around the bottles of alcohol and glasses. I catch a glimpse of purple hair, making me lift my arm to grab Tinx’s attention.

The eccentric bartender with a half-shaved head gives me a knowing look, hooking her fingers around a bottle of Casamigos Blanco before working her way through customers before she reaches me and slams an empty shot glass in front of me.

“Missed you last Saturday, girlie.” Her silver lip ring catches the light as she speaks, pouring the clear liquid into the glass in front of me. I’d been so jealous of her the first night I’d met her.

How she could freely wear herself on the outside like a second skin, without drugs, without repercussions. She could just be.

“You missed my money.” I wink, leaning over to grab a salt shaker from caddy and handing her my clutch to hide behind the bar for the night.

“Those tips you leave pay half my rent, bitch.” She shrugs. “Can’t blame me for buttering you up.”

I laugh obnoxiously, knowing the only time I’m allowed to hear that foreign sound is because of the drugs. Sad life, isn’t it? Unable to laugh unless I’m drowning in chemicals.

Half of her rent isn’t even a noticable expense on my account records. Most of the people in here work their entire lives for a quarter of my wealth, and I’d just been born into it? It hardly seems fair because it’s not like I deserve it any more than Tinx does.

It’s all because we were born on two different sides of the coin.

Me in Ponderosa Springs and her here.

A place where rules are more of a suggestion and authority is always met with contempt. The citizens are so vastly different from those just twenty minutes away. Here, they embrace an unapologetic attitude with a passion for rebelling against the affluent.

West Trinity Falls doesn’t pretend. Its very essence is a testament to the human desire for freedom and pursuing life on your own terms. Even if it means dancing at the edge of legality and challenging the status quo.

That’s why the children of the Springs are so desperate to cross that town line. Here? Where salt water from the coast mingles with the smell of bonfires and the night electrifies your veins, we can be whatever the fuck we want.

It’s the reason I’m here now, to be whatever I want. To escape the nightmares and daydreams.

“Get me a lime, and I’ll pay it for the next three months,” I say lightly, rolling my tongue across the back of my hand before pouring a line of salt across it.

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