Screening

He had never felt less comfortable. The music drilled behind his eyes, pulsed against his temples, stung every nerve. Too hot and too watched, no shadows to melt in to, no chance of a bittersweet melancholy performance to hide behind this time. Just the club. And hundreds of strangers.

He watched the DJ; beautiful, moving like a perfectly constructed, perfectly programmed android. He meant to network, but larger powers networked tonight, eclipsed him.

"Come to this," the pretty promo girl in the hat said, waving a flyer. "Bring your bitch!"

He laughed awkwardly. He'd never keep up with the rules.