Locked Out of Apartment

Okay, so this a stupidly insane story. But it's actually, mostly true.

My name is Layton McGuire. When I was 22, I was living in New York and sharing a very small, rent-controlled apartment in Greenwich Village with two other roommates while we attended the City College (which is real college, not just a generic name, look it up). All of us had dreams of transferring over to one of the private uni's to finish out our various undergraduate degrees, but for now, we were getting by and enjoying the trappings of our youth.

Our building was older, but charming as hell. It had red and brown brickwork with tarnished green-metal fire-escapes. The structure had peculiar alcoves and pre-war features that had been lost to architectural time. Many of the apartments actually had entirely unique designs and, if you were lucky enough to snag the rare opening, you were in the epicenter of a lot of fun nightlife and culture.

We only pulled it off because Daniel, one of our roommates, had been living here before his grandmother had moved back home to be with family. the lease was still under her name but the apartment wasn't huge on checking for these kind of things, so as long as you kept fairly well out of the front office's hair, they weren't going to hassle you about how many people were coming and going from your place or who all was technically living there. See no evil, and so on.

We were up on the 7th floor of a the classic, ten story building, with the bottom level consisting mostly of restaurants, bars, a coffee shop and a fancy, overpriced grocer that none of us could afford.

We were well aware of how lucky we were, and how expensive the neighborhood we inhabited had become.

We took advantage of the readily available nightlife with gusto. All of us were single and we made sure to bring back single ladies to our place as much as we could. They were never disappointed with the digs. Some guys drive nice cars. We had a one of those sitcom, TV apartment-humble brags. You use what you have.

There was a group of ten of us that were meeting at the apartment to get all dressed up and ready to go out to a new club that had opened up nearby. It was one of our favorite DJ's and there was a Woodstock theme going on that night. To be clear, the music would still be that typical mix of house, hip-hop, pop, discofunk, and alternative electroboogaloo vibes--but there would be a eclectic rainbow colored lights, and streamers, and go-go dancers in furry boots. It was the type of quirky thing that New York was becoming obsessed with. Themed nights at nightclubs were practically a rite of passage for people our age. Everyone missed Studio 54 in the year 2022. It made sense. The prior years waiting for everyone to have their vaccinations finished felt like a lifetime.

When the clubs finally came back and the worst had passed, all anyone wanted to do was party.

It was my roommate Broxton's birthday (Broxton was his last name but he hated his first name so we just called him Broxton or, Brox). He was finally legal drinking-age, and could ditch the middling fake ID he'd been pushing at bars over the last year as we waited for him to catch up.

But honestly...these are all just smaller details that surround the much larger nucleus of where my night ended up going. Which was, quite literally, into sexual outer space. But we'll get to that.

We all began back at the apartment. It was a mix of ten college students all dressed in various states of Woodstock-slutty. We looked like a more sophisticated Burning Man crew. Or if EDC had a summer runway fashion line. The girls were sexy and they knew it--wearing barely-there skirts that flowed off of midriff-baring middles. There was glitter and body paint and straightened hair worn with small headbands or other cute glow-in-the-dark beadsd. The guys were either going for a muscled look or straight-up comical gigolo. There were bellbottoms and open-buttoned shirts with temporary tattoos and even grass bracelets.

Our fire escape had became a marvelous spot for getting stoned, and soon we were all back inside and standing around the kitchen island, where our night was really about to begin.

Jennifer Maxwell, the rich lawyer's daughter who attended Columbia, was currently holding the court's attention as we all giggled with silly anticipation.

"Alright my beautiful babies," she started with great affectation, "In honor of Broxie's birthday...I offer up my token of dedication to our friendship." She unscrewed the long gem that was on her necklace and out popped ten, beautiful gel capsules that slid out onto the marble countertop with the immediate allure of all that was to come.

We had all agreed in advance. Broxton wanted to do Molly with all his friends at a hip NYC club. He'd never actually rolled. There were three people in our group that would be rolling for the first time that night. We decided it would be amazing for everyone to share the experience together. Such was the advantage of youth.

Everyone had brought over sleeping bags and their most comfortable pillows and blankets. We all knew we'd end up back here at the apartment, so we set up a full-on living room camp-out where we'd all be able to enjoy the end of our rolls after sweating all night long at the club.

Everyone looked so great in their themed outfits. I knew we wouldn't have any problem moving up fast in the line.

We'd all pitched in fifty dollars for a u-shaped, bottle service couch at the club, so we didn't need to stress about getting in line at any certain time, or staking out a spot on the very crowded dance floor.

We all took our pills together, and made sure to tuck our second pill of the night into small hiding places on clothing, whether it be a pocket or a bra or a sock. Every smuggled fun differently.

When we were all set to go, we locked up the apartment and headed out to the club. We were able to skip the line which was great, and soon we'd be led to the subterranean spot for what was sure to be the night of our lives.

But when we got to the front, I realized I'd made a grave error. My ID was in a coat pocket I had used the week before. I didn't have my ID in my wallet. They all did. This was less than ideal. The DJ was unmoved by my pleas and guarantees of my age. Club 54 be damned.

I told my friends I'd catch up with them and zoomed back down the street to our apartment as they all started to be led inside.

"I'll be back in ten minutes!" I told them.

I walked down the street to my apartment and quickly made it inside and went up the elevator to our floor.

And that's when my second idiotic move of the night dawned on me. I had given my apartment key to one of the girls before we left. I was locked out of my apartment.

I started to walk back to the club. "Good fuckin' lord," I chuckled. I had to laugh it off because I was already starting to feel a warm fuzzy flushness from the opening symphonic notes of the molly coursing through my body. It would be another half-hour until I was really feeling it. This was just that famous opening tickle that made me nervous-happy and ready to play.

But before I was even in the elevator, another thought came crashing down on me.

Fuckkkk, fuckk, fuckkkkkkk! I groaned.

They were all underground, in a club that was NOTORIOUS for having zero cell reception. No one would be looking at their phones or getting anything and the bouncers weren't going to go looking for someone in the club to come out and meet me so I could grab a key to my house--they had more important things to do than cater to the kid who forgot his ID. I had my phone, but the apartment foreman wouldn't be there over the weekend to open the door for me, and so there I was...suddenly shit out of luck.

I texted four different people anyway, just in case...but nothing came back. I already knew my fate. I was completely stranded. No money. No friends I'd been planning to do drugs with. And no idea what to fucking do next.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

This night was taking a very shitty turn at the worst possible time. I should've been underground, thumping my body against beautiful girls dressed in skimpy skirts and flower dresses, while enjoying the sexual energy of it all. I slumped down against the nearest wall, feeling a little on the fritz.

That's when the door next to my apartment opened and my neighbor came out. What was her name again? Some sort of flower. "Dahlia?" I thought. They had moved in earlier that year--her and a roommate her age. The guys talked about them all the time because they were absolutely gorgeous, through probably in their late 20's, compared to our early 20's. Their schedules were rarely the same as ours, and, other than the occasional date's we'd see them bringing home, there wasn't much interaction between the two units beyond kind a kind hello, once or twice a week.

"Hey there Layton, everything okay?" She was drinking a bottle of Mexican lager and wearing only some jammy shorts and a thin tank top with these long, sexy knee-high burgundy leg-warmer socks, that could've either been for comfort or for play, depending on how you took them. She really was gorgeous. She had an Amber Heard kind of vibe, with the messy hair and toned curves. There was a very direct, in-your-face quality to her sexiness. Straight, blond hair worn down and slightly messy, bright red lipstick, and sparkled, stud earrings. She looked like the girl that would ride the bull at the honky-tonk.

"Hey! Dahlia, right?" I started, hoping I had guessed right. She made me nervous with how hot she was.

"Ah, so close. I'm Lily." She said, doing a little curtsy.

"Yeah, that's right. I knew it was a flower! Hi Lily."

"No worries, everything okay?" She repeated the question.

"Ahhh, well..." I was embarrassed, I pushed my hands into the pockets of my cotton bellbottoms and made a sheepish face. It felt kind of good to touch myself I was realizing. "I'm locked out of my apartment and don't have my wallet, and everyone just headed down the street to the club and, it's underground..."

"So no one has any service," she finished my sentence, already putting the pieces together.

"Right." I finished the script.

"Right," she said back, smiling at my somewhat humorous predicament. "I'm sorry, obviously this sucks. Well clearly you can't just sit out in the hallway...please come in and hang out with us while you wait for them to get back." She was so insistent and kind right off the bat. I know that it was partly my joyous mood from the synthetic drugs running through my body, but I was genuinely appreciative of how she didn't even think twice about offering. I was still a stranger that they didn't necessarily know. I was glad she was trusting enough in this moment. Cool people still existed in New York City.

When I walked inside, I noticed how much better furnished their apartment was. They had foregone a dining room table in favor of a central area that sort of combined the dining room and living room into one giant think space of comfort and design. They had clearly been adults for a few more years than us boys had. College furniture setups were always a bit ragtag.

The other girl who lived there was lounging on one of the three couches in the large living room area that fed into a far kitchen. From there it branched off into two, separate hallways with mirrored rooms and bathrooms. It was the same layout as our apartment mostly, with a few square footage adjustments. Her booty shorts felt more like Yoga bottoms the way they hugged her round ass. Her name was Dani. I never forgot her name. She had the Ruby Rose haircut and the tattoos to boot. I think there was a girl that looked like this in every apartment building in the city. I didn't even care if it was becoming overdone. She pulled it off so damned well. She'd been the object of many of my recent sex dreams.

"Hey Dani," I said with a slight tremble, immediately feeling a new burst of warmth as I took stock of my situation. My friends wouldn't be back for hours, and I was going to start rolling in front of my two stupidly hot neighbors, who were both dressed in fairly skimpy sleepwear. Good Lord I was in trouble.

"Layton! Sup my dude!" She said merrily, as she popped up to say hello. She always called me dude which I kind of secretly loved. It was almost sisterly, but cuter--like an old best friend might. She gave me a hug which surprised me because we'd never hugged before, but I certainly didn't object. I realized that I smelled weed and they were definitely stoned.

This was probably already more talking than I had ever really done with either of them, save but for a few elevator interactions.

"Hey Dani!" I said, a little too energetically.

"Oh, so yo remember her name, but not mine? That's so ruuuude!" Lily play-protested, swatting at my arm, as she sat down on the opposite couch and took a swig of her beer.

"Sorry Lily...I definitely remembered the flower thing though so I think I get partial credit," I reasoned, and she smiled. Everything was very friendly and warm between us. It was nice.

"So what's up? You ditch the roommates for the night?" Dani resumed, reaching down for her mixed drink which was chilling on a square, cork-board lined, drinking table.

"He got locked out," Lily cut in. "And his roomies are all at that new club down the street that's down in the basement."

"Ahh?" Dani said, raising an eyebrow, not fully understanding yet.

"No cell service." I said in defeat.

"No celllll service! Ohhhh, that suckkkks," Dani responded, as she put all the pieces together...shaking her head. There was a giant bong on the table and they'd clearly been smoking because the smell of really good flower hung in the air. Dani was clearly sad for me, but also, much like Lily, a little amused. I didn't mind. It was a funny situation. I had to laugh at my misfortune.

"Yeahhh. I'm super sorry, you sure you guys don't mind me chilling here while I wait for them?" I asked, wanting to be polite. I was tapping my foot a little and bobbing my head because they had a Bryce Vine song that was playing from their nearby living room speaker. I was starting to just look dumbly happy, but I was also aware of this and attempted to do my best acting job.

"Not at all! It's the neighborly thing to do!" Dani assured me, sliding her knees under her body and showing off her bear legs, which also had beautiful tattoos running down them. This included big red and black bows on her upper thighs, mimicking a lingerie look. There was also some sort of large cat that ran up her inner thigh and disappeared below her tiny shorts. I was completely smitten with her entire aesthetic. She was thrilling to look at. They both were, honestly. They seemed like they got down and that enticed my horny, young male mind.

"Do you want a beer or anything?" Lily offered.

"Oooof. Well..." I hesitated again. Fuck it. I may as well just tell them now. They were adults. I'm sure they had partied. "I don't think I should, I uh..." they were both staring at me funny, as if trying to figure out why I wouldn't want to have a beer. They knew everyone in our apartment drank. We carried in boxes of cheep beer like it was going out of fashion. They had even seen us engaged in a hallway game of beer pong or two on holiday party nights.

"Why? Have you finally found Jesus?" Lily asked sarcastically, and you could tell by the way she said it, she did things the devil would be more appreciative of. And I loved that.

"Well, you could kind of say that. In the pharmaceutical sense anyway. So...I'm actually on Molly right now. I popped my pill like, forty minutes ago. We were all supposed to roll together at the club tonight, so we took them before heading out so it would kick in when we there." I gave them both a big, 'oh well' kind of smile, and they both burst out laughing as they fell back on their couches.

"Whattt?!" Lily blurted out, completely tickled.

"You seriously are?!?! You took Molly??" Dani echoed her.

"Yeah...I'm literally dressed like a sixty's gigolo...clearly I was looking to bounce my way through some club lights tonight and get a little high on life," they both squealed with joy at this admission, as if they knew it well.

"Well this is AMAZING," Dani said, and Lily agreed.

"We have to set up our living room for him!" Lily said suddenly, and Dani instantly hopped up in agreement. I was sitting on a small, bean bag around their coffee table and was immediately confused, as they disappeared for a moment into their rooms and a hall closet. I sighed nervously. My body was warm and my heart rate had doubled.

Before I knew what was happening, they had returned with a pile of blankets and pillows. I watched as they backed the table up to create a solid square of open space between the couches and chairs. They unfurled giant blankets and spread out pillows and before I knew it, I felt like I had wandered into some rich, desert harem. At least...that's what my mind couldn't help but feel as I watched these sexy ladies bounding around me with sudden energy. Then they both came over to me and led me down onto the blanketed floor. They had clearly done this before.

"Layton, Dani and I roll ALL the TIME! It's like, our favorite way to party!" Lily said to me, as Dani helped me out of my shoes and set them behind one of the couches. I was surprised by her sudden touch. Their whole demeanor had changed. It was like I had just gained two amazing babysitters.

"So if you are rolling, we will definitely keep your party going tonight, and help you have a really good fucking roll. We'll pretend it's like, our drug civic duty, because we fucking love it so much and it's so much fun to help people have amazing experiences on Molly." Dani was clearly excited to reveal this info to me and I was floored. It was like my next door neighbors just so happened to be coolest fucking girls ever, who apparently also loved to vibe, and they completely put me at ease. I could feel myself start to get giddy happy again, as I felt a sudden comfort in their care. The come up was beginning.

We were all sitting on the floor now and had begun to pass the bong back and forth between us. It was strong weed and we all started to feel the high together. They monitored me constantly with a voyeur-like care, frequently asking me how I was feeling or doing.

Lily turned the music up and we made an amazing triangle formation on top of all of the blankets, getting higher and talking about rapid-fire subjects. The girls were both very stoned, and a little drunk; but I was stoned AND rolling, and it was clear I was just a little bit goofier than both of them, which they continued to point out and tease me for, in the cutest possible ways. I also started to get much more loose-lipped with the both of them.

"Okayyyy," I pronounced an hour into our game, as the conversation had veered into much more provocative subjects. I steadied my nerves to say what I was about to say, but fuck it, I was having so much fun. They both looked at me with anticipation. "I just need to say this right now...I think you're both stupidly fucking hot...and I probably wouldn't usually say that, but I'm rolling and I feel really good and I don't care if you both know." I finished and I felt proud of myself for taking the leap.

They both beamed at me too. "We think you're hot too, Layton," Lily said, and Dani was nodding as she sipped from a fresh beer.

"Yeahhh, you're a total cutie too, babe," Dani said, and there was such a confidence in the way she looked at me, and it felt so good whenever she did it. I was smiling at them both. "We're glad you stumbled into our apartment tonight," she said. I was staring at her body, and her breasts, and her short hair with the sexy razor fade. She knew I was staring.