Chapter Text
Sokol ran his hands under the bathroom faucet and rubbed his neck with the water. He sighed and looked into the mirror. Behind him, he could see a restroom covered in filth and graffiti. He shrugged. As long as the women’s restroom was cleaner than the men’s, the club would hold up as a nice spot for a date. He tugged at his blazer, adjusting the shoulders, then smoothed back his hair. He clicked his mouth and winked at himself in the mirror before exiting the restroom.
He headed up the stairs to the second level of the booming club. The colorful dance floor burst with energy as screaming patrons showed off their best moves. The place was packed. He doubted himself again, thinking perhaps he should have taken her someplace nicer or quieter. He cast the thought aside. The Tasteful was an exclusive club, mostly for Russian gentlemen and their dates, so he felt that would leave a fine enough impression on her.
He reached the second level and approached a nice booth upholstered with red velvet. He popped a breath mint into his mouth as he saw a beautiful head of brown hair being flipped over a perfectly tanned shoulder. He cracked his neck and slid into the booth beside her.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he beamed in his Russian accent.
“Not a problem,” she smiled, sipping a martini. Her red dress showed off her fine figure and he had to try not to gawk at it but instead meet her eyes.
“I thought we might get in a little dancing. We are at a club, after all,” she said, struggling to talk over the DJ’s track.
“Oh, d-dancing? I thought we could just hang out and,” he reached for a ridiculously expensive bottle of vodka on the short table in front of them, “enjoy a few drinks.”
“You took me to a dance club- I wanna dance,” she insisted with a smile.
Sokol furrowed his brow, but had to smile. This girl was worth whatever embarrassment would surely follow on the dance floor. Rachel was a solid 10, and he wanted to make their first date one to remember. She would certainly remember the cringe-worthy dance moves that he was about to pull out of thin air, he thought.
Rachel stood and extended a well-manicured hand. Sokol took it hesitantly. She led him down another staircase and then into the crowd of dancing young adults. She immediately got into the electronic music, swaying her hips and bobbing her head. He stood still for a moment, but slowly started to step back and forth to the beat and bob his head as well. She licked her lips, then bit her lower one, looking straight into his green eyes with her brown ones. His heart was racing and he was thankful for the poorly-lit club hiding his surely-blushing cheeks.
She twirled around and he grabbed her wide hips from behind as she danced. Rachel leaned her back against his chest. Face bright red, he was not sure what to do, but he felt the strong urge to kiss her for the first time. He debated for a bit, but convinced himself that, if he was brave enough to fight off hundreds of cops and steal millions of dollars from big-name banks, he could at least kiss a girl on the cheek.
As he closed his eyes and pursed his lips to kiss her face, the sound of gunfire filled the air.