Exercise - Writing on a "Spell" - short fiction

I kept walking, head down, focussing only on the tips of my Slush Puppies as they hit the cobbled streets. I could still hear them jeering behind me, mocking my maroon school blazer and clocking my feeble attempt to enter the club as the anecdote of the week. I pulled violently at my tie; an emblem of my weakness, my youth, and ripped it from my neck, stuffing it into my satchel where my homework lay, yet to be completed.

I turned right, tracing the outline of the club with my journey. My parka coat grazed along the mildewed walls. I could hear the music pounding inside and it vibrated my shivering, bitter body. This just wasn’t right, I couldn't leave. I had to see her, I couldn't leave without her.

I kicked a stone in my anger and it bounced off something metal with a clang – another door. My heart pounded; this must have been the back entrance. I looked around desperately; no bouncers in sight. The door was strange though; it was more of a metal panel than a door in itself having no visible handles. I ran my fingers down the edges and tried to find grip. It was hopeless. The door stood still, mockingly unscathed by my slippery hands. 

“Damn it!” I shouted, kicking the door in my petulance and turning away, covering my childish face with my hands.

“What do we have here then?”

I turned around; a man in his early twenties with bloodshot eyes and a penetrating glare had opened the door.

“Calm down mate” The words slurred through his languid lips, he looked me up and down, taking in my appearance; 

‘Though…always love a rebel me.” He smiled with big shiny teeth; all the better for eating me with, “you been kicked out? Come the fuck in!”

Thanking him silently, I moved past him into the smog of the club. I’d walked into a thin corridor where a thronging crowd pushed past each other– everyone around me was like the man I’d just seen – bright eyed, staring, grinning and sweating and moved in a convulsion, like a hot dark sea. I pushed and squirmed my way through until I reached what looked like the main room. She had to be in here somewhere. There was no going back now.

I was pushed at from all directions by a crowd by smiling strangers. The smell of weed and cigarettes singed my throat and made me long for the tranquillity of home. But I persisted. I had to. Behind me, the pounding music suddenly stopped to make way for a voice over. Jolting, I wrenched myself round to face the staging area. This was it. The smooth American voice called out the name I’d had on my lips all night and the crowd roared. My heart could have burst in my chest.  The woman next to me began to cry as the emotions overwhelmed her senses.

Heels, followed by a red dress and finished with a mouth of red lipstick tapped their way onto the stage. They were right. She was effervescent; mesmerising. The woman next to me fell to the ground, unable to look at her any longer through sheer want and desire. Me? I couldn't stop looking. She turned to the crowd and dazzled us with her white, sharp teeth and my body was no longer my own.

The crowd silenced.

“Darlings” The red lips said. “Are you ready for the most magical moment of your lives?”

The noise erupted. The woman next to me remained on the floor but in a praying position, silently mouthing her desires to her hands, never taking her eyes of the red vision on stage.

The crowds glee caused the red woman’s neck to fling back and a low laugh uttered from those lips. 

Then with a whip of her hand – we were silenced again. 

...Any thoughts on what happens next?