Summary: Kilgrave sees reader at a club and starts to control them. Jessica saves the day.
Word count: 1,400
It had started out like any usual Friday night. Your friends dragged you along to another one of those exclusive new clubs, and managed to skip the line because of their "connections." It was crowded and way too loud, but you enjoyed the action regardless. Your friends always ended up dancing with random people as you leaned back against the wall, so it was a good enough system. What you didn't know was that tonight wasn't going to be anything like that.
A song you recognized but didn't know the words to was bumping through the speakers and bodies moved in rhythm on the dance floor. Your eyes scanned for your friends, wondering if they had already found somebody to go home with when you saw a man in dark three-piece suit carve his way through the dancers to the bar. It seemed impossible, the way he parted all of them like Moses parted the Red Sea. It usually took you 5 minutes minimum to get across the crowded floor to the bar, and yet this man seemed to have moved them all with the flick of his wrist. You were intrigued, to say the least.
So, you made your way over there. And of course, every second you spent having to snake your way through the crowd made you wish you had whatever power that dude did. When you finally popped out from the throng of bodies, a bit out of breath, you saw the man sitting at the end of the bar, and he was already sipping on some golden liquor you were sure cost more than what you currently had in the bank. He looked like he was a millionaire. No, billionaire. His crisp suit and neatly groomed quiff almost nearly radiated the words "I AM FUCKING LOADED," and you suddenly felt hesitant. What, did you think you were just going to waltz up to him and strike up a conversation? What had possessed you to come all the way over here in the first place?
To hide your indecision, you sat down a good five or so stools away from him, like all you had planned to do in the first place was just get a drink and nothing else. Definitely not to try and get a gauge of this guy as you nursed your cheap beer.
Who was he? Did he own the club? No, that didn't make sense. The club-goers wouldn't have known to get out of his way. You could definitely rule out politician or businessman as well. Was he some mob boss? And if he was so important, which he definitely looked important, wouldn't he have some bodyguards or something? All these questions swirled through your head, making you feel dizzy. Or maybe that was the drink. It was hard to tell.
You didn't realize you were staring at him until his eyes caught yours and didn't let go. He didn't look surprised, really. It actually seemed like he had been surveilling the room to see who would look at him like he was a jungle cat waiting to see what prey was foolish enough to enter his line of sight. Either way, you felt trapped by his gaze, even from halfway across the bar. It was unsettling.
Before you could tear your eyes away, you saw him say something. You say "saw" because there was no way in hell you heard it over the club music. But the words from his lips were still clear as day.
"Come here."
He even gestured with his index finger. That little backward inchworm thing you had always despised, as men thought it would drive you wild. You finally looked away from him and peered down into your drink. Should you go over there? No, probably not a good idea. But...
You looked over at him again, and his stare was cutting. It was like he was trying to will you to come over to him. What did he want from you? Surely he could have anybody he wanted on his arm, what made you stand out?
Almost everything inside of you told you not to approach him. Almost everything. But there was something that made you grab your drink and come to sit on the stool next to him.
"Hi." You could barely hear your own voice over the music, so you hoped this guy could read lips.
He said something, and the only thing you caught was, "drink.... absolutely disgusting..."
Well, it was the cheapest thing they sold there, but you didn't think the beer you got was that bad. You took another swig indignantly but then choked. It tasted like car oil. You gagged the mouthful down, not wanting to spit it back into the glass in front of this mystery man. When you looked back at him, you could have sworn he was smiling.
He said something else, but you didn't catch anything this time.
"What?" you called to him, a look of confusion sketched on your face.
Quicker than you could think, he leaned forward and put his mouth up to your ear.
"Let's go somewhere quieter."
And as fast as he had spoken, you both hopped from the stools and started making your way to... well, somewhere quieter, you guessed. Yeah, it would be better if you could find someplace to actually hear each other. In just a minute, you were stood at a door guarded by two bouncers.
"Well, let us in, you big oafs," the mystery man said. The doors opened and you both made your way in. There were a dozen or so people inside, to which the man said, "Leave." And they all did. The doors closed behind them, and the two of you were left alone. You felt... uneasy.
There was still music playing in here, but not nearly at the deafening volume as in the main part of the club. This definitely qualified as quieter. You felt accomplished, though you didn't know why.
The man, who you noticed had a foreign accent, sat down on one of the long sofas along the wall and looked you up and down.
"Dance," he told you.
And so you started dancing. You kept dancing. The song ended, and another started, and you still kept dancing. You didn't know why, but you did.
It seemed like you would dance forever. Even as a darkly-clad woman with long black hair broke the door down, you still kept dancing. The mystery man fought with the woman, and you still danced. The man ran away through a back entrance, after telling the bouncers to fight the woman, who eventually knocked them out. You watched all of this as you did the god damn cha-cha because you still. kept. dancing.
The woman came to you with a tired look on her face. She was the kind of woman that probably always had a tired look on her face.
"He told you to dance didn't he?" she asked.
"Yep," you replied, breathless from dancing.
"Well, you know, just tapping your foot can be considered dancing."
You didn't consider that. So, you started to tap your foot. Didn't seem so bad.
"Jesus, that's going to get annoying," the woman groaned.
"So, that guy..."
"Mind-controlled you, yeah." Jessica cut-in. She had taken you to your home and sat you down, as your need to dance slowly subsided. You felt gross now, knowing about who that man really was. What he could do. What he could have done to you...
"Thank you for coming in when you did," you told her, and she sighed deeply.
"No problem. But I bet you're never gonna want to go to a club again." The look on her face was almost sympathetic, but you had a feeling that she wouldn't try to comfort you. Even for a near-stranger, she felt distant. You could respect that.
"Yeah, no," you replied with a half-hearted laugh. You didn't think you would even want to leave your apartment for a while.
"Listen, there's this... group. Of other people who have crossed paths with this guy." Jessica scavenged in her coat pocket and pulled out a notepad and pen, scribbled down a number, and handed it to you. "Talk to them, it'll help."
"Thanks," you mumbled, looking at the digits.
She simply looked at you, then turned to leave. You didn't see her again.