As the snow machines and blowers roared to life, the entire dance floor transformed into a stormy, snow-swept wilderness. The crowd inside got even wilder.
"How is it? Huh? What do you think?" Leonardo shouted over the noise.
Martin, however, was distracted by something in the corner of his eye and responded absentmindedly, "Not bad, not bad."
In his line of sight, a girl with heavy smoky eye makeup was twisting wildly on the dance floor. Her slender waist moved with electric energy, as if powered by a motor, drawing the attention of several young men high on hormones. They whistled as they edged closer, shouting and cheering.
Wait… wasn't that Avril Lavigne?
Oh, right. She was already a Canadian pop princess by now!
"Get lost!"
Noticing the encroaching men, Avril Lavigne unceremoniously shoved one of them away as he nearly pressed up against her.
The guy's friends immediately howled and jeered.
The man who had been pushed seemed embarrassed and angry. He scrambled up, cursing under his breath, and charged at Avril Lavigne.
"Bitch!"
He raised a hand to slap her—only to have his wrist caught in a firm grip.
"Hey, that's no way to treat a lady."
A voice rang out.
That voice—? Avril Lavigne, who had been prepared to kick him where it hurt, froze in shock. Then her face lit up with joy.
The drunk guy, barely aware of his surroundings, didn't even bother looking at who had stopped him. Or maybe, in this dim and chaotic environment, he couldn't see clearly anyway. He swung a fist toward the man who held his wrist.
The next second, he was sent flying as if launched by a catapult and crashed heavily onto the ground.
His three drunken buddies, driven by alcohol and testosterone, howled and rushed in.
1.25 seconds later, all three were down.
By the time Leonardo squeezed through the crowd to get a closer look, Martin had already finished his impressive takedown. Leonardo couldn't help but shout, "Wow! That was awesome! You're a real fighter!"
A few nightclub bouncers had arrived by then, and Leonardo quickly stepped forward to smooth things over.
Soon, the four troublemakers were dragged out by security.
"Martin, it really is you!"
Only now did Avril Lavigne snap out of her daze, pointing at Martin with a surprised and delighted expression.
"Shh! I don't want people knowing I'm here, or I won't be able to have any fun."
"I get it, I get it. I've got a booth upstairs—wanna join me?"
"I'm with a friend—uh, fine."
Martin realized that in the time they'd been talking, Leonardo had already melted into the dance floor. He even shot Martin a sly wink and made a crude hand gesture toward Avril.
Idiot.
Cursing internally, Martin followed Avril Lavigne up to the second floor.
The brief fight had barely registered with the revelers still thrashing around on the dance floor.
Fights in nightclubs? Totally normal.
People drunk or high out of their minds had zero self-control.
Upstairs, in a dimly lit booth tucked away in a corner, a half-finished bottle of beer sat on the table.
"Yours?" Martin pointed at it.
"Yeah, mine! I'm twenty-one now—I can legally drink." Avril said, though she wasn't sure why she felt the need to clarify.
She grabbed the bottle and lifted it to her lips—only for Martin to stop her.
"Martin, you—?" Avril frowned in confusion.
"First time in a club? Or first time coming alone?" Martin asked.
"Uh… I've been a few times before, but always with friends," Avril answered instinctively.
Martin nodded. "If you're alone, never leave your drink unattended, even for a second. There are a lot of creeps around. Spiking women's drinks is common. Actually, even if you're with friends, you should still stay vigilant."
Avril's eyes widened. "Really? I had no idea."
She stared at the beer bottle in her hand, suddenly picturing some sleazy guy slipping something into it while she was dancing downstairs. She imagined herself unknowingly drinking it, blacking out, and then—
A shiver ran down her spine. She hurriedly set the bottle down, not daring to think further.
Martin chuckled and pushed the beer away, snapping his fingers to order another drink—for both of them.
A beer for Avril.
A… juice for him.
Yep. Martin wasn't of legal drinking age yet. In private, whatever—but in a public place, he had to stick to non-alcoholic drinks.
Seeing the rich, fruity blueberry juice placed in front of Martin, Avril couldn't hold back a giggle.
"Go ahead and laugh," Martin said dryly, raising his glass. "I admit it—I'm still a kid, okay?" He took a big sip.
Avril burst into laughter, doubling over so hard she nearly collapsed onto Martin.
Actually—she did collapse onto him.
Martin wasn't sure if it was on purpose or not, but in a moment like this, there was only one logical course of action—forward, not back.
So, he swiftly pecked her on the lips.
Soft warmth? No.
A faint, sour mix of beer and saliva.
Avril was momentarily stunned—then she grabbed Martin's face and kissed him back, hard.
A moment later, they pulled apart.
Martin glanced around and suddenly said, "Wanna come back to my place?"
Avril grabbed her coat without hesitation. "Let's go!"
An hour later, Leonardo, exhausted from dancing, made his way upstairs—only to find their booth empty. After calling Martin, he realized his "bro" had ditched him for a girl.
"Motherf— that bastard!" Leonardo gritted his teeth, then turned back downstairs.
Might as well find himself a one-night companion, too.
Not his fault Bar Refaeli wasn't around.
Yeah, that was a good excuse.
Meanwhile, at Martin's Beverly Hills mansion—
Biu and Heather were already asleep. Martin carried Avril straight upstairs, not disturbing his two lovely maids.
That night, Martin had a dream.
In the dream, he and Avril were tangled together in bed. Just as things were reaching their climax, Avril's face suddenly morphed into another stunningly beautiful one.
She flashed him a bewitching smile, parted her lips, and cooed:
"Oh, my dear Martin, do you want to watch me poop in bed? Hehehe~ I'm gonna do it now! Come closer~"
Martin bolted awake, drenched in cold sweat.
What the actual fuck?! Why did I dream of her?!
[GodOfReader: Damn, even a martin was no match to SCP-1003 (Amber Heard The shitter)]