Lovers Liars

*Vivienne*

The flashing neon bulbs, the heavy music booming from hidden speakers and the entire hyped up atmosphere were all beginning to give me a serious headache, and I was already on the verge of breaking into a full-blown panic.

Clubs.

Fuck! What the hell was I even thinking? And so what if this place is new and apparently popular with the people of Los Angeles? I wasn't a club kind of girl.

But somehow, I had allowed my employees to drag me to the club on a Monday night nonetheless. I seriously must have lost my mind.

Still on that thought, I suddenly lurched forward as my body jolted with the impact of someone bumping into me from behind. I quickly braced my hands on the table in front of me and steadied myself.

My jaw clenched as a heavy sense of deja vu descended upon me, making my body go so rigid and tight that it became a miracle I was still breathing fine.

The faint voice of someone apologizing to me slowly receded into the background while I forced myself to breathe steadily through my nose.

“Calm down, Vivi,” I muttered to myself with a shaky voice, my eyes slowly squeezing shut. “It was a stranger. You are fine. You can sit here for the next one hour like every other sane person out here without losing your fucking mind.”

As I'm still muttering this under my breath, a hand touched my shoulder and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Reacting instinctively, I jerked away from the contact and threw a wide-eyed panicked look over my shoulder.

Only to see that it was Tara.

Her eyes slowly widened and she immediately threw up her hands in surrender. “Whoa, whoa,” she said, retreating a step back. “It's me.”

My tense shoulders went lax and I slowly released the breath I was holding. “Oh, hey,” I said softly, slightly thankful that I wouldn't have to raise my voice since I was sitting in a secluded corner of the club.

Tara furrowed her brows as she looked at me and then at my tight grip on the bottled water. “You okay?”

I swallowed quickly, released the bottle and then plastered a smile on my face. “Yeah, I'm good,” I reassured her.

She cocked a brow. “You sure about that?” she inquired with a thick disbelieving tone.

I swiped my palm at the trail of sweat dotting my forehead and uncorked the cover of the bottle. “Yeah, it was just getting a little too hot in here,” I answered her with a big smile and tipping the bottle back, I quickly downed water big enough to soothe my parched throat.

Placing the bottle back on the table, I took a long breath and tried calming my nerves before it escalated into an unmanageable paranoia.

Tara sighed aloud as she folded her arms under her boobs. “Is this about Mark and his new bimbo girlfriend?”

“How did you…” I began, momentarily stunned into speechlessness.

“Know that the asshole had dumped you for a fake as fuck bimbo who he probably cheated on you with the whole time?” she scoffed. “The bitch dropped by one day at the spa and practically bragged that she was now fucking your ex- boyfriend.”

I winced. “That sounded… eventful.”

Tara rolled her eyes and dropped into the empty chair beside mine. “It was more like a disaster waiting to explode. If not for the customer that I was tending to, I would have slapped some dignity and sense into her empty skull.”

I cracked a tiny smile thoroughly aware of what Tara is capable of doing. “And you would have probably burn down my spa with her in it,” I said and it wasn't a joke.

Reaching over, Tara placed her hand on mine. “Are you really sure you're okay?” she inquired with a scrunched worried brow. “I mean you and Mark…”

My throat closed up as the incessant dull ache in my chest which I thought had disappeared with time began to throb all over again with a vengeance. I exhaled deeply and bit down hard on my lip. “I'd rather not talk about it,” I intoned with a stiff voice.

Mark Simpson, my boyfriend up until last week, had been the ever perfect boyfriend that any girl would wish for —devoted, sweet and understanding. He had been the perfect man for me until he wasn't.

Tara hummed, her head bobbing in understanding.

I closed my eyes and fervently tried to maintain my composure but all to no avail. My hands were beginning to tremble uncontrollably and I was already having a difficult time breathing well.

When was the last time I took my medication? This afternoon? But who cares. I needed my control back.

Counting to ten in my head, I abruptly stood up and grabbed my clutch bag. “Umm, I think I need to visit the restroom or something,” I announced, hoping that my movements weren't too frantic and probably hinting at the tremor overtaking my body.

Tara blinked, her eyes reflecting concern and confusion at the sudden change in my behavior. “Oh,” she whispered. “It's around that corner.” she gestured to a corner some metres away and I nodded.

“Thanks.”

“Wait, maybe I should go with you incase—”

“I'll be fine,” I bit out more forcefully than I intended and she flinched.

Fuck!

Calm the fuck down, Vivi. It's just Tara.

I briefly closed my eyes and on opening them, I said with a much softer voice, “I will be fine, Tara. Don't worry about me.”

Tara nodded wordlessly and I heaved a sigh of relief. I needed to get away from here before I ended up doing more than lashing out at my manager.

Without another word, I turned and walked towards the area she pointed out. As I stood in the middle of the pulsating crowd, the thumping bass reverberated through my chest, suffocating me in a dizzying cacophony of sound. Beads of perspiration trickled down my temples, and the air felt stifling, constricting my lungs as if it were a vice grip.

With trembling hands, I elbowed my way through the throng, stinging gazes boring into me with every passing step. The harsh, flashing lights seemed to mock my faltering resolve but I desperately clung to the hope that the restroom would offer respite from the suffocating grip of the club, a sanctuary where I could regain control over my spiraling emotions.

I stumbled through the dim corridor and then through the restroom door which beckoned like a beacon of deliverance. I pushed it open, the sudden relief of silence washing over me like a soothing balm. The pristine white tiles gleamed under the soft glow of the fluorescent lights, casting an ethereal sheen over the spacious, elegant restroom. The acrid scent of disinfectant hung in the air, mingling with the delicate hint of jasmine from the hand soap, a stark contrast to the raucous chaos just beyond the door.

The immaculate marble countertops and gleaming mirrors cast my haggard reflection back at me, a stark reminder of the turmoil that still gripped me. I steadied my quivering breaths, striving to regain control over the tumultuous tempest raging within me.

I shoved my hand into my bag and searched around inside it for the weight of my pillbox just only for me to come up with nothing.

“Fuck!” I hissed under my breath as another wave of panic swept through me. Seems like I had forgotten to retrieve it from my desk back at the office.

My gaze fell down to my hands which were now shaking very badly at this point. Fuck! I needed to leave. Now.

Snatching up my bag, I hurried to the door and yanked it open.