The bar. Maybe some will loosen you up.

Might as well start with what's familiar. You make your way over to the bar, finding an empty spot at the end, close to the door. One of the two bartenders meets your eyes as you come to a stop, smiling and nodding as he shakes a drink for someone else, indicating that he'll be with you once he's done.

You lean forward on your elbows, waiting patiently for your turn. The question now is what to order. You hadn't exactly thought about it earlier.

As you ponder the matter, you completely fail to notice the multiple men along the bar staring at your ample cleavage. The music somehow seems a little quieter over here, like you won't have to shout to be heard. This place seemed to defy all the physics of sound.

"Hi, there." The bartender's voice jogs you back to reality. You blink, meeting his blue eyes dead on. "Haven't seen you here before. First time?" You nod, very much aware of the flush in your cheeks. He smiles warmly. "I'm sure you'll have a great time here," he assures, rinsing out the shaker in the sink in the wall on this end of the bar. "It's a little different than most clubs you've been to." After a second, you find your voice.

"This is actually my first time at a club..." you admit quietly, eyes lowering a bit. He seems surprised as he looks up again.

"Well," he replies, the wide smile on his face welcoming and friendly, "we'll just have to make sure your first time is a great one, then." You can't help but giggle slightly, coyly. "First off, what can I get you to drink?" You hesitate for less than a second.

"What would you recommend?"

His smile takes on a hint of a smirk.

"What's your poison?"

"I usually go for vodka in mixed drinks."

Without another word, he turns, grabbing a bottle from the shelves, pouring the clear **** into one half of the shaker before using the other to scoop up some ice. Before retiring the vodka, he adds an extra splash with a wink your way, earning another giggle. He exchanges the **** for a smaller bottle of what you guess to be lemon juice and another with something a soft shade of purple. After adding a bit of each, he sets the ingredients aside, interlocking the two parts of the shaker and proceeding with the mixing and cooling action, each clinking of ice on metal chipping off a little of the frozen solid, chilling the liquids evenly. From a mini fridge below the bar he retrieves a chilled coupe glass, setting it before you. Straining the mix into the cup only fills the vessel a tiny amount. He changes that by filling the rest with what looks like a sparkling rosé. A sprig of lavender finds its way on top of the beverage to round it off. You reach for the drink, taking it in your hand hesitantly. Rather than take a sip, you give it a tentative sniff. Glancing up, you find an encouraging smile on the bartender's face. At his nod, you dare to take a taste.

Lavender. That's what the purple syrup was.

"It's called a Suburban Anxiety." He gives a wink, making you laugh again. Appropriate. "That should help you build up the courage to get out and dance. It'd be a shame if you didn't get the full experience, right?"

"Mhmm," you nod in agreement, taking another sip.

"I'll be here the rest of the night, so just come to me when you're ready for your tab-- or another drink."

"Thanks." You smile, sincerely grateful.

"No problem," he returns. "If you want somewhere a little less crowded to sit, there're some booths and tables on the other side of the room." He indicated the locating with his thumb as he spoke. You nodded. Thanking him once more, you made your way over, looking towards the dance floor as you passed. There were a lot of women roughly your age-- maybe thirty at the oldest-- letting loose completely. There were a decent number of men, too. Some seemed to be with girlfriends (you guessed), keeping their focus pretty zeroed-in, while others were clearly going stag. Even though there was room to breathe, most people seemed to be actively staying close against the others, every body seeming to be touching at least one other at any given moment.

You settle in at a tall, one-to-two person table, watching the action absently as you enjoy your beverage. Your **** mind is absorbing everything-- the ****, the visuals, the music, the subliminals embedded within the energetic beats. Everything comes together to help you relax, to help you build up the courage to get out there and join the party.

You know you ought to finish your drink first, since you don't want to risk leaving it unattended... right?