There were a set of steps you walked down to get into the club, but Mariel didn’t see them as an entrance so much as a warning. They were filthy, narrow, treacherous and they stunk of piss.

She didn’t mind though. She was a regular. She and Mikey, the doorman, went way back. Long enough that they didn’t bother embarass themselves with the whole fake ID charade, just a nod and a smile.

He’d look after her, too, if she got into any trouble she couldn’t handle. He was more of an older brother to her than her older brother.

She made her way down the steps and then looked back at the one friend she’d left cowering at the top.

When Eva had arrived on her doorstep Mariel almost had a fit. She’d specifically said not to dress too cute. Eva had come out in a strapless sweetheart dress- white, with white wedge sandals, pink lips, nails and eyelids. It had taken all of Mariel’s strength not to stop breathing there and then.

She’d done what she could, but that wasn’t much. Eva was much smaller than Mariel- practically a midget, she always said.

“Eva, if you’re not sure about this we can go somewhere else,” Mariel begun, but Eva cut her off by beginning to make her way down the stairs.

“No, I’m sure. I want to see where you hang out,” her clear, high voice was lost amidst the fear fear, but she made it to where Mariel was standing without any major palpitations.

“Well okay. But stick close by me, okay?” Mariel said, taking Eva’s hand and pushing open the first door.

Mikey was standing inside under a fluorescent strip. Like always, he smiled at Mariel. Then he caught sight of Eva.

“Who’s this?” he asked, not hostily, but it was a question all the same.

“This is my friend Eva,” Mariel said, raising their hands as if that was solid proof of whatever it was Mikey was looking for.

“I’m going to need ID,” was what Mike said in reply.

“No you dont!” Mariel said, sharply. “She’s with me, why the hell do you need ID?”

Mikey looked agonized. “Look, Mary-” he persisted in calling her that although she hated it- “it’s okay for you because- well, it’s you. I know you, Roba and Jack know you, Management knows yous. But if anything happens to… your friend it’s my neck. Besides, she looks about twelve.”

“Mikey, that’s ridiculous-” Mariel begun, and she would have gotten into an argument that could have blown her welcome at The Firehouse forever had Eva not produced a passport.

“Here. I’m eighteen,” she said, quietly. Mikey took the passport, scrutinized it, found no fault with it and handed it back.

“Oh,” he said. And then to Mariel, “why the hell did you kick up such a fuss when she’s older than you?” His words were heavy, but he said them with a laugh.

“Because,” Mariel replied, still a little indignant but prepared to let it go, “it’s the principle of the thing.” She sniffed a little, and tossed her nose up into the air.

Mikey just laughed, and opened the second door into the darkness of the club.

“Welcome to The Firehouse ladies. I hope you enjoy your night…”