Starlit Tides

1

Skylar

I walked into the club with my notepad clutched firmly in my grasp whilst I tried to weave in and out of the sea of sweaty bodies dancing and grinding upon each other. The music was booming over the speakers so loud that I could feel my ribcage shaking with every beat from the bass, and the flashing lights farting around in lightening speed made me feel lightheaded.

Reporting the newly opened nightclub in my town, Tides, was not the job I had in mind for my first solo journalist report, but I wasn't exactly in a position to complain. I'd been an apprentice for over a year and a half, barely being able to scrape enough cash to give to my roommate, Rosie for rent in our shitty little flat. My boss gave me this opportunity after begging for a chance from the first moment I'd walked into his office, and now he'd finally caved. This was my chance to show him, and everyone, that there was more to me than just taking coffee orders and picking up pastries for other people in the office.

It took me longer than I had expected to finally make it to the other side of the dance floor where I was greeted with, yet again, another hoard of horny people. This time, they were posted up against the bar rather than on the dance floor with everyone else. Maybe they were sick of being pushed and shoved around, I couldn't really blame them. I looked behind the few couples who were drunkenly swapping saliva and saw one single guy manning the bar. My heart felt heavy for him. It must be awful having to work on your own in a club as busy as this, especially in its first week of opening. He looked stressed, juggling bottles of beer and trying to pour shots as well as serving people all at the same time. 

My eyes glanced back and forth to see if there was anyone else I could interview briefly for my report because I really did not want to put any more stress on this guy's plate but to no avail, he was definitely on his own. I groaned loudly, but the sound was swallowed by the pounding drum and bass music bouncing off of the club walls. Great, I was definitely going to make an enemy on my first day on the job. I sighed and adjusted my position, holding my head high. I waited for my perfect opportunity to open up, and when the last two people drunkenly stumbled away from the bar, each holding a bottle of beer in both hands, I quickly strutted over to the bar.

The guy was busy wiping down the mess of spilled alcohol on the bar with a dry towel so he hadn't noticed my arrival, either that or he was purposely ignoring me so he could have a few moments peace. I waited a few more seconds before clearing my throat to grab his attention. I wasn't sure if he'd hear it over the music but his head shot up, and he glared at me with his shockingly bright green eyes. They were quite bloodshot with what I could guess was a mixture of tiredness and stress, but the scowl his eyebrows held suggested he was also maybe slightly angry.

"Yes?" he asked bluntly, throwing the now damp towel over his shoulder, "What do you want?"

I scoffed and placed my notebook and pen down on the sticky surface of the bar, "Is that how you talk to all of your customers?". He didn't seem impressed with my comment which was confirmed by his subsequent eye roll.

 "Look, darling, if you don't want a drink then step away from the bar. It's been a busy night already and I've got another 4 hours of this shit" he spat viciously. Seriously? What was the dude's problem and why was he being such a tool?

 "Decent customer service is hard to come by these days I suppose" I retorted. He opened his mouth to speak again but I held up my hand to cut him off. "Listen, sweetheart"  I mocked, "I'm not here for a drink and even if I was, I can assure you that it would be thrown over you almost immediately. I'm a journalist and I'm here to ask both members of staff and customers on their thoughts and feelings on Frenzy's first week".

He paused, keeping strong eye contact for a few seconds before raking his eyes up and down my body. I felt myself shiver and hoped to God that he didn't notice, this guy didn't need anymore ammunition to fire at me.

He sighed deeply and rested his arms on the edge of the bar, leaning over so he was closer to me, "You don't want to talk to me about that, you want to talk to the owner, Max. He's out back, I'll get someone to take you to him." He pushed himself away from the bar to turn and leave, but I subconsciously grabbed him wrist to stop him from moving. Great, now I've just laid hands on him. 

"I didn't come here for Max" I lied. Max Lovett was of course the first person I had on my list to speak to, but he told me he had a packed schedule all week. I didn't have all week, I had two days to be exact. So yes, I was desperate, "I came here to ask the people who are working in this atmosphere. You're one of those people, aren't you? I sure as hell don't see anybody else helping you out, so you're my only hope here"

He let out a brief chuckle and returned to his position at the bar. He opened his mouth to speak but his eyes glanced behind me, and I turned to see the same couple as before stumbling back over to the bar. How did they manage to collectively drink four beers in less than ten minutes?

"Ah" he forced a tight lipped smile, "I've got to get back to serving and you're right, I'm on my own because my colleague is ill tonight and we couldn't find any cover. I'd love to help, really, but I've got to get back to work".

I mentally cursed. This was my one shot and I'd blown it. I'd spoken to the DJ but it was too loud so I could only decipher a sentence or two, and I'd tried speaking to a few people dancing but most of them were already too drunk to formulate a sentence. The only person I'd managed to get a full statement from was one of the bouncers, and that was only because I'd forced it out of him while he was searching me for drugs and a weapon before entering. I needed this statement, because without it I was going to look like an absolute idiot at work and everyone would say "told you so". So, I let the panic in my body make the rash decision for me.

"I'll help you" I blurted out, immediately regretting opening my mouth. It didn't matter, it was too late. I found myself walking to the side of the bar and opening the small hatch to let myself in, "I'll help you, you help me".

He looked at me with wide eyes. I didn't even know this man's name, yet I was offering to help him serve drinks for four hours just so I could get his opinion on working in a nightclub. Why was I so bothered? It was clear just by looking at him that his statement wasn't going to be a good one, and I would probably have to sensor most of the words he was going to use.

"You can't do that" he laughed in disbelief, "You don't work here"
At this point I was already standing next to him at the bar, one hand on a plastic cup and one hand on a bottle of vodka.

"I won't tell if you don't" I shrugged, pouring a shot of vodka into the cup and offering it out for him to take, "I'll serve with you, and in the meantime you tell me what you feel about working here."

He quickly glanced between me, the cup, the queue if people quickly building up at the bar, and then back to me.

He scoffed and smiled before grabbing the cup and finishing the vodka, "You're trouble" he said, "I like that".

"My name is Skye, actually" I said matter-of-factly.

"Hello, Skye," he smirked, "my name is Chris"