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Ben.
                  “Who’s your friend?” He asked, his voice as scary as his physique. I was pretty sure that his left bicep was larger than my head.
                  Letting out a shaky breath, I replied, “Ben Hurley.”
                  He glanced down at the clipboard. “And your name?”
                  So far so good. “Anne Watson and Brian Aschcroft.”
                  He nodded curtly and moved aside. “Enjoy yourselves.”
                  I blinked in surprise then tugged on Brian’s t-shirt to follow me. We walked through the large wrought-iron double doors and into the club. It was a rather intimate place, with a modestly sized stage, the club catering to unsigned bands on the verge of making it. Pyro had a reputation for giving some of the hottest rock bands in history their big break.  Strobe lights danced across faces in the crowd as people lost themselves in the music. An intricate laser light show caught my eye on stage in sync with the performing band’s guitar solo. Since Ben told me to look for Max first, I glanced to the large oak bar running the length of the club. I leaned over, yelling to Brian that I found Max, pointing him out at the end of the bar. He stood there rigidly in a blue short-sleeved dress shirt, khaki dress pants, and brown leather loafers. For him, this was dressed down, since he wasn’t wearing a coat and tie. He couldn’t have stuck out more in the crowd of faded tees and ripped jeans if he tried.
                  “How have you been, Max?” I leaned over kissing his cheek.
                  “Work is killing me as usual. And now I’m here trying to keep Ben and George out of trouble.”  He rolled his eyes. “All I can say is thank God you showed up.”
                  I chuckled at his words. “They’re a handful tonight?” Max raised his brow giving me a ‘when aren’t they’ look, so I added, “More so than usual?”
                  He frowned, blowing a fallen strand of his black, glossy hair off his forehead. “Those two are out for trouble tonight. I don’t know what’s gotten into them.”
    I groaned in annoyance. I wasn’t sure if I had the strength to handle them tonight. But, then I thought that maybe keeping them from getting arrested meant I wouldn’t focus on what happened back at the apartment. Tonight could be a blessing in disguise. Besides, I had Brian and Max to help make sure we all had fun tonight and no arrest warrants were issued.
                  “Where are our maniacs?” I asked him. Max pointed them out in the front of the club, near the stage.
                  I nodded, and turned towards Brian. “Do you want to wait here while I get them?”
    He leaned in to my ear telling me that he would order us drinks.  I nodded and then walked off towards my other friends.
                  I saw George first, standing next to Ben wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, brown leather loafers, striped dress shirt opened over a white v-neck. He eyed up a blonde in a mini skirt likely deciding if he wanted to bring her home later on.  George didn’t date. Ever. He actually prided himself on never being on a date, or as he put it, “Being suckered into paying for sex.”
                  It didn’t hurt his cause that he looked like a famous actor currently starring on a hit television show about twenty- something year-olds living in New York City. So, for the last few years whenever we went out anywhere, I’d always hear someone ask him, “Are you Kyle Cahill?” Normally, he’d answer yes, especially if it was a woman. It was nearly guaranteed that they’d come home with him, and his apartment was swanky enough that he could pull off the lie.
                  I touched his back, and he turned towards me, his eyes lighting up in recognition. “Annie, you came!”