The music is blaring, lights go on and off in a fast pace, body grinding on the dance floor and others practically shoves their tongue onto another stranger's mouth, hands tangling on the strangers locks damp with sweat.

There she is, skimpy clothes-- shining from crystals beautifully sewed on the lining, face thick with make-up--harlot red lipstick, eyeliner slightly smudge, eyelashes carefully curved with heavy mascara, 6-inch heels, now with a different guy from yesterday and body heated from dancing and drinking. She has her arms on the stranger's neck hands playing with the man's hair, swaying her hips from the music, and let's not take out that they are kissing, scratch that, eating each other out. Hard. Not caring who is who, where are they.

Hana is the first one to pull away, slightly panting from the lack of oxygen. She looks up at the man, smirk and turn around with a last sway of her hips but not before muttering a small 'bye', the man giving back his own smirk and a swipe of thumb on his lips.

She sits on the bar stool and ordered a mojito, alone. Friends can be annoying sometimes, they can easily hurt you, they can put on innocent smiles that turn into snickers and looks of disgusted when you turn around, sticking around just because of money. No friends, no worries, no problems.

She was just finishing her last cup when she turn to her right and found a guy with his friends laughing whole-heartedly on the far corner of the club. She continued looking at him and found out that he wasn't even drinking any alcoholic beverages nor smoking pack after pack of cigarettes like his friends, he's just, there, listening and occasionally talking when asked.

He's handsome, that's given, his almond eyes, flawless face, puffy cheeks, sculptured lips and nose, anyone would give their second look, he can get every girl he can spot and a gir