The bass beat faltered, then stopped. A horror filled hush rippled across the dance floor as glow sticks fell from hands, too heavy to hold. Hesitantly heads turned to stare in disbelief as bouncers surrounded the roped off section that held the VIP booth. 
 With clenched fists a black-suited man stood contemptuously over a caramel skinned teenager on the floor. The slap had broken skin. Crouched beside him a blonde haired youth with high cheekbones and a small heart necklace hanging in the hollow of his neck. A red-dressed woman sat carefully on the edge of a couch.
“Careful, Alex.” Her words echoed haughtily in the bewildered silence.
“How,” the black-suited man hissed through clenched teeth, “have you done this here? In the holiest of cathedrals?” The crowds flinched as he gestured coldly towards them.”
Coyly she batted her lashes. “Why, it’s only befitting that it happens here.”
Hefting a bottle the man cursed and flipped the table between them as the boys clambered over each other trying to get out of the way. Before he could land a blow a hand wrapped with crushing strength around his wrist and cold lips caressed his ear.
 “You don’t think they make a lovely pair?” the woman asked blithely. “What power have you here?” A bestial howl escaped the man’s lips as the woman calmly bent back his wrist until it cracked. “The heart wants, what the heart wants.”
 Stumbling backwards the man cried out in consternation as both boys climbed to their feet and hand in hand ran for the door. The bouncers stepped back as the woman followed calmly behind them. 
 “I’ll have your head for this!” the man cried after her.
 “That’s my line,” cackled the woman in red as she walked out the door.
 The bass dropped and house music with it’s hypnotic homage to humanity filled the club with wild hedonistic abandon. Crumpling defeated onto the couch the black-suited man was quickly joined by a dark-skinned woman in faded jeans and a ripped tank top.
 “That bitch took our son,’ she said coolly chasing a couple of brightly colored pills with a swig from a bottle of bourbon, “her knave of a son seduced him.”
 He followed suit and tossed back two pills of his own. The bass washed over them and as the room began to blister in bright colors he whispered breathily to her alone, “She may have won this hand, but we’ll win the war.”