Untangled By Red

The thumping bass reverberated through her chest, a primal rhythm that urged her body to move. Flashes of red, blue, and green light painted fleeting patterns across the sweat-soaked crowd. She was a vibrant blur on the dance floor, her long ginger hair a fiery halo, lost in the music.
Her black lace dress clung to her, a second skin, as she spun and swayed. Around her, laughter echoed, indistinguishable from her own. Every now and then, a hand would reach out, a voice would call, but she danced on, oblivious, a siren in the heart of the Black Siren club. Later, she found herself at the bar, seeking a moment of respite, the clinking of ice in her glass a quieter rhythm against the club's roar.
Then, a voice, raw and husky, cut through the din: "Drinking alone?"