Navigating a New World: From Nausea to a Nightclub Queue

The moment my feet touched the human world's pavement, my stomach lurched violently. I doubled over, pressing my palm against the brick wall of the alley for support as bile rose in my throat.

"Oh god," I groaned, fighting the urge to vomit. My head spun like I'd just stepped off the world's most aggressive roller coaster.

Beside me, Rhys made a strangled sound before dropping to his knees on the concrete. He looked up at me with watery eyes. "Is it always like this?"

"First time between realms often causes nausea," Kaelen explained, the only one among us who seemed perfectly fine. He stood tall, adjusting his cuffs as though we'd just stepped out of a luxury car rather than teleported across dimensions.

Ronan bent forward, hands on his knees, breathing heavily. His copper hair fell across his forehead as he struggled to regain control. "Feels like my insides got scrambled," he muttered.

"You'll adapt," Silas said, looking slightly pale but otherwise steady. He patted Rhys's shoulder sympathetically. "My first crossing was worse. I actually passed out."

Jaxon leaned against the opposite wall, arms crossed. His jaw was tight, but he showed no other signs of discomfort. His eyes constantly scanned our surroundings, vigilant even through what I suspected was his own nausea.

"Where are we exactly?" I asked, finally managing to stand upright.

"Three blocks from the library," Kaelen replied. "It's our anchor point in this town—secure and quiet. We'll need somewhere to return to later."

Once Rhys and Ronan recovered enough to walk, we made our way out of the alley and onto a quiet side street. The familiar sights and sounds of the human world—cars passing, streetlights buzzing, a distant siren—were suddenly alien after weeks in the Grey realm.

The local library was a small brick building with wide stone steps and an "Open Late" sign glowing in the window. Inside, a middle-aged woman with thick glasses looked up from her computer as our group entered.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion at our disheveled appearance.

Kaelen stepped forward, his posture shifting subtly. "We're fine, thank you," he said, his voice taking on that hypnotic quality I recognized as compulsion. "You're glad to see us here, and you'll be happy to assist us when we return later tonight, regardless of the hour."

The woman's expression softened instantly. "Of course," she smiled. "Take your time browsing. We're open until midnight."

A twinge of guilt hit me watching her fall under Kaelen's influence, but I reminded myself we were here for something important. We didn't have time for explanations or arguments.

"You all look a bit peaky," the librarian continued, eyeing Rhys who was still slightly green. "Traveling sickness, is it?"

Kaelen nodded smoothly. "Something like that."

"Here," she said, coming around her desk. "Let me show you something that helps my daughter when she gets carsick."

To my surprise, she approached Rhys and gently took his wrist. "Pressure point," she explained, pressing her thumb firmly into a spot between the tendons on his inner wrist. "Count to ten while applying pressure."

Rhys's eyebrows shot up after a few seconds. "That's... actually working."

The librarian beamed. "Try it," she encouraged, showing me and Ronan the same spot on our own wrists.

I pressed my thumb against the point she indicated, and within moments, the churning in my stomach began to subside. "Thank you," I said sincerely.

"Ginger helps too," she added. "There's a café next door if you need something to settle your stomachs."

After thanking her, we stepped back outside, all feeling marginally better.

"That was surprisingly kind," Rhys remarked. "I'd forgotten how helpful humans can be."

Jaxon snorted. "Don't get used to it. We have a job to do."

Kaelen pulled me aside as the others walked ahead. "Take this," he said quietly, pressing a small stack of folded bills into my hand. "Human currency. You'll know best how to use it here."

The weight of the money reminded me that I was the expert now—this was my world, not theirs. It was a strange reversal after weeks of feeling lost and clueless in their realm.

"Eclipse is about a fifteen-minute walk from here," I said, orienting myself. "We should use this time to get our story straight and make sure everyone looks... normal."

"Define normal," Jaxon grumbled, tugging at his leather jacket.

I eyed our group critically. "Hats," I decided. "For you and Rhys at least. If your eyes flash, we can't risk anyone seeing."

A small convenience store provided baseball caps for the guys who needed them. Kaelen paid while I grabbed sunglasses for myself—unnecessary at night, but a good disguise if needed.

As we merged onto the busy main street, I felt an unexpected wave of homesickness. The familiar sights and smells of the human world—fast food restaurants, car exhaust, perfume from passersby—brought a lump to my throat. For all its dangers and limitations, this had been my home.

"You okay?" Silas asked quietly, falling into step beside me.

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

"It's strange, isn't it? Coming back." His eyes were knowing behind his glasses. "Feels like we don't quite belong in either world."

"Exactly," I whispered.

Ahead of us, Rhys was practically bouncing with excitement, pointing at everything from traffic lights to a woman walking her dog. "This is amazing! Look at all the screens in that shop window! And those shoes that light up when that kid walks!"

Jaxon grabbed the back of his jacket. "Could you be more obvious?" he hissed. "Tone it down."

"Sorry," Rhys grinned, not looking sorry at all. "But it's all so fascinating."

I checked my phone as we walked, scrolling through notifications until I found Landon's most recent post—a video from inside Eclipse, timestamped just thirty minutes ago.

"He's still there," I confirmed, showing the screen to Kaelen. "Looks like he's with a group."

"Good," Kaelen said, his eyes hardening. "We'll approach casually. No confrontation until we're somewhere private."

The thump of bass grew louder as we neared Eclipse, its façade lit with purple and blue lights. A line of people stretched down the block, all dressed in their nightclub best—short dresses, stilettos, designer jeans, and expensive shirts.

"Shit," I muttered, eyeing the bouncer checking IDs at the door. "I didn't think about this part."

"What's wrong?" Ronan asked.

"They check identification," I explained. "We might have IDs thanks to Kaelen, but there's still the line. It could take an hour to get in."

Kaelen's expression remained unfazed. "I'll handle it."

"How exactly?" I asked skeptically.

"Do you trust me?" he countered, his blue eyes holding mine.

The question caught me off guard. Did I trust him? After everything we'd been through, the answer surprised me. "Yes."

"Then follow my lead when we reach the door," he said simply. "For now, we join the queue like everyone else."

We took our places at the end of the line, immediately drawing curious glances from the groups ahead and behind us. I couldn't blame them—we were an odd group. Five exceptionally good-looking men, all exuding a confidence and power that set them apart, plus me in my hastily assembled club outfit.

Silas looked around with scholarly interest, studying the social dynamics of the line. Rhys was barely containing his excitement, soaking in every detail of human nightlife. Ronan stood uncomfortably, clearly feeling exposed in the crowd. Jaxon maintained his predatory vigilance, glaring at anyone who looked our way too long.

"I can see why humans enjoy this," Silas commented, nodding toward the club's entrance. "The exclusivity creates value. The longer the line, the more desirable the experience appears."

"It's just marketing," I shrugged. "Make people wait outside looking miserable so others walking by think something amazing must be happening inside."

"Is it amazing inside?" Rhys asked eagerly.

"It's loud music, overpriced drinks, and sweaty people dancing too close together," I replied.

"Sounds terrible," Jaxon muttered.

"It can be fun," I defended, feeling oddly protective of human socializing. "Dancing is... freeing. And sometimes it's nice to lose yourself in the crowd."

The line inched forward slowly. As we waited, I noticed Jaxon's posture growing increasingly rigid, his eyes constantly scanning for threats. Ronan wasn't much better, looking like he was ready to fight or flee at any moment.

"At least make it look like you want to be here," I whispered, nudging them both. "Otherwise people will take note of you."