Many People Started Following You
The Pandemonium club was very busy tonight. People fifteen and up filled the large club to almost maximum capacity, dancing and pulsating to the techno music that Maxwell found to be quite atrocious. He began to sweat under his black leather gear and eventually peeled away from the large crowd and headed out into the cool alleyway in the back for air. Sweat dewed on his forehead and upper lip. His hair was stuck to the back of his neck. He didn't want to go back into the club, but he found that he had no other choice.
Just as he turned to enter the club again, he stopped dead in his tracks. A figure stood before him, and he was unsure of whether or not they followed him out here. Maxwell quirked a brow and asked, "Can I help you?"
