“This is the night,” I thought to myself. I stood on Curry Road and Florida Avenue waiting for the night festivities to begin. Standing on the dimly lit road I could see groups of adolescents wading through the trash-ridden roads, the streets hadn’t been cleaned that day.

RING! My phone springs to life in my pocket. It’s James.

“Where you at, boi,” I asked.

“Behind you,” he replied, which made me jump.

James was a good friend of mine, a year my junior, but you would never be able to tell that because of his build, he was a rugby player.

So James and I were planning on going clubbing and all that was needed was for our friendly neighbourhood chemist to supply us with our poison of choice, which was ecstasy. Our friendship was genuine but what really brought us together was our love for chasing the thrill of endorphins and the pumping dopamine in our systems.

He arrived in a dark grey sedan, it wasn’t new as it was evident by the broken left rear-view mirror. Accident or something more sinister? PK was his name, and despite his great reputation I was always throw off by how small he was, he barely reached my chin, and I was no giant by any measure. After the transaction, we made our way to the club, ‘Origin’.

James turned to me and asked, “do you have protection?”

“Hahaha…” My hearty laugh was all that was needed.

The night proceeded in a blur with the usual sounds of euphoria and sweaty hugs, with the muffled whispers of sweet nothings that usually followed men during their drinking escapades.

So far it was good but it was far from over, in fact, things were about to take a turn for the worst…

But that is a story for another day.