The club is divided into three sectors. There's a rectangular dance floor in the middle, facing a main stage that's big enough to host a live show. All around, there are seating areas—tables with chairs, sofas, bar stools. There are a variety of enclosed spaces that allow for more privacy for those who don't wish to exert themselves.

If at first glance I'd thought that everyone was dancing, now that I have a better look around, I realize that the people on the dance floor are in the minority. Most people are on the fringes, glancing around suspiciously, some curiously. They're holding tightly onto the sparkly invite, their bodies tense and anxious.

Although there are some dressed normally, the majority are wearing odd costumes. I spot a few animal ones, some wolves, lions, and panthers. My eyes widen in appreciation as I study them. Their costumes are so realistic, it's as if they'd stepped out of a video game. There are also some more... eccentric ones. Some people are painted from head to toe in different colors. I spot a few pink ones, some green, and even some purple ones, all with some special features. The pink girl has translucent wings and the purple one has a fluffy tail.

"So pretty," I whisper to myself.

Compared to all these extravagant costumes, I'm only wearing a simple black dress. But the invite hadn't specified a theme, had it? My brows bunch up in confusion. I hadn't perused it enough for that, and now I wish I'd paid more attention.

But just as I think of the invite, I'm also reminded about its odd appearance and the fact that it kept following me around—or did it? There's no denying that there's something very odd about the entire situation. But I'm still not sure if this isn't a by-product of my accident.

Have I gone... mad? Is that what's happening? Maybe I'm seeing a distorted version of reality due to my head injury.

"Another drink?" A server stops in front of me, her tray full of the same neon drinks.

"I shouldn't." I lick my lips as my eyes zero in on the liquid.

Damn my sweet tooth! Why did it have to be so delicious?

"Are you sure?" she asks, pushing a glass toward me.

I'm ready to refuse, but somehow, I end up taking the drink and thanking her. Everyone is drinking the same thing, and I don't see one drunk person around. My initial assessment that it shouldn't be a strong cocktail was likely spot-on.

Sipping quietly on my drink, I realize that the pain from my arm is completely gone, my body so much more energized than before—and that's a feat considering how hard I ran.

"Is that seat taken?" A voice startles me from my reverie.

I slowly lift my gaze, blinking as I take in the owner of the voice.