Club Layout

The second you move deeper into Pulse, the club starts making more sense.

At first, walking in just feels overwhelming.

Lights flashing everywhere.

Bass shaking the floor.

Bodies packed shoulder-to-shoulder.

But the farther you walk, the more the place separates itself into different energies.

Different goals.

Different types of girls.

Different ways the night can go.

“This place is packed already,” Chris says while looking around wide-eyed.

“It’s barely nine,” Rob replies.

The four of you slowly move through the crowd while girls squeeze past constantly from every direction.

One blonde brushes past your shoulder wearing a tiny black dress that clings tightly around her hips and ass while the neckline presses her chest upward enough that your eyes automatically drift there before she disappears back into the crowd.

Another brunette laughs loudly near the bar while leaning forward against the counter in a tiny white crop top stretched tightly across her chest. Her leather skirt hugs perfectly around her waist and thighs while one of her friends grabs her arm pulling her toward the dance floor.

The entire club smells like:

perfume,

****,

body heat,

and fog machine smoke.

You can already tell this night has potential.

“Alright,” Tony says while looking around the club carefully. “Where are we starting?”

That’s when you really notice the layout.

Pulse basically splits itself into three completely different sections.

And every section attracts different people.

Different vibes.

Different opportunities.

The front of the club stays closest to the entrance and wraps around the massive bar area. Blue neon lights glow across shelves full of liquor while bartenders move nonstop pouring drinks into plastic cups.

This section feels more social than chaotic.

Girls stand around talking in small groups while waiting for drinks. Some lean against the bar scrolling through their phones while others laugh with friends between songs.

A lot of eye contact happens here.

A lot of first conversations.

The girls near the bar seem more approachable too. Less locked into dancing. More willing to stop and talk.

One blonde near the counter wears tight ripped jeans and a tiny black top that pushes her tits up every time she laughs. Another brunette beside her adjusts the straps of a tiny satin dress that lays snug around her waist and ass while she waits for drinks with her friends.

“Bar area’s always safest,” Tony says.

“Safe is boring,” Rob immediately replies.

Past the bar area sits the middle section of the club.

This is where the energy changes completely.

The dance floor pulses underneath flashing lights while bodies move shoulder-to-shoulder underneath the bass. Girls dance in tight groups while drinks spill constantly and people squeeze through the crowd trying not to lose each other.

This part of the club feels hotter.

Closer.

More physical.

A brunette near the center dances with her hands above her head while a tiny silver dress clings tightly against every curve of her body. The fabric rides higher against her thighs every time she moves while the neckline strains against her chest underneath the lights.

Nearby, a blonde in tiny denim shorts and a white crop top grinds against one of her friends jokingly while laughing hard enough to nearly spill her drink. The shorts hug tightly around her ass while the top stretches closely across her chest every time she moves to the music.

Your brain immediately starts imagining what dancing with girls in this section would feel like.

Hands on waists.

Bodies pressed together.

Girls leaning close enough that you can smell perfume over the **** and sweat.

Yeah.

Dangerous.

“The middle is where bad decisions happen,” Rob says proudly while staring toward the dance floor.

“That’s because you blackout there constantly,” Tony replies.

“Details.”

Then there’s the back section.

The energy shifts again immediately the farther back you look.

The lights get darker.

The music somehow feels heavier.

The booths get closer together.

This part of the club almost feels separated from everything else.

People disappear back there.

Couples.

Hookups.

Girls sitting close against guys while talking directly into each other’s ears over the music.

The back section has more booths, darker corners, and narrow hallways leading toward bathrooms and quieter seating areas.

This is where girls go once they’re already interested.

Or once somebody’s trying to make something happen.

A brunette sits close beside a guy in one booth while her tiny red dress stretches tightly across her hips and thighs. One of her legs rests across his lap while she leans close enough that her chest presses directly against his arm while talking.

Nearby, another blonde fixes her makeup in her phone camera while sitting alone at the edge of one of the booths. Her tiny black skirt rides high against her thighs while her fitted top hugs tightly around her chest underneath dim purple lighting.

The farther back you look, the more obvious the energy becomes.

This is the hookup part of the club.

“You disappear back there and there’s like a fifty percent chance we never see you again tonight,” Chris says while looking toward the booths.

“That’s the goal,” Rob replies immediately.

“You are a terrible person,” Tony says.

“Thank you.”

The four of you stop near the edge of the club while people continue flooding around you in every direction.

Bar.

Dance floor.

Back booths.

Three completely different vibes.

Three completely different ways the night can start.

Your eyes drift slowly across the club again while bass shakes through your chest.

The front feels easier.

The middle feels exciting.

The back feels dangerous.

And somehow all three suddenly sound good.