Heaven (new version)

chapter 5: cyanide

The night bloomed over Heaven yet when it touched Club Purgatory it exploded into a black stain - deeper and darker than in any other part of town.

Inside, the music raged. It was a desperate thunder in the ill-lit place. On the stage, a male dancer with a shock of mermaid hair of multiple shades of greens and blues rolled over a layer of bills. Below him, the drooling patrons hurled cash like broken ATMs.

In the dressing room, Sina slipped into his streetwear and grabbed his backpack.

"See you tomorrow?" Cookie arched over the vanity table. He touched his pinkie to a misbehaving eyelash before turning his attention from the mirror to his friend.

"No. I only got two days this week. That motherfucker's taken away all my gigs." Sina replied gesturing in the direction of the stage.

"You shake your ass like it's no one's business. I don't know why they give him so much work."

"He got all my weekends. I haven't worked a single Saturday for a month. Now he's getting my weekdays, too. It's totally bogus."

"Do you want me to kill him?" Cookie chuckled as he picked up a red lipstick.

"Yes," Sina sighed, "And when you do, put his heart in a box and give it to me."

Looking back to the mirror, Cookie touched the scarlet tip to his lips. "Alright, Maleficent. I'll do my best."

"You're good people."

"Wish you weren't the only one who thought so," Cookie uttered under his breath. He thought his words wouldn't reach Sina, but they did.

Frowning, Sina felt Cookie's confession flutter around him like a wasteland's ashes that didn't know where to go. He pretended he hadn't heard. It was for the best. For now anyway.

As Sina made his way out of the dressing area, he paused, looked back, and promised to bring Cookie a new pack of cigarettes the following evening.

If it wasn't for the smudged smokey and glitter rings of makeup around his eyes, and the glitter decorating whatever bit of flesh stuck out of his t-shirt, Sina would have appeared like another patron and not a dancer. He wasn't anything much to look at, not compared to the other strippers. He didn't have mermaid hair or a six-pack like the stripper getting ready to grace the stage shortly. And he certainly didn't have smooth chocolaty skin and an ass you could use as a pillow like Cookie. Sina Noir had simply been hired because he danced like he was born to do so and wasn't shy about taking it all off while the others kept that certain part of them hidden.

Sina's shift had ended half an hour ago. He headed to the bar in dire need of a drink or five. Plopping like a deadweight on one of the stools, he slouched down until his head touched the bar top.

"The usual, Sinful?" The barkeeper who barely looked old enough to be working in a club had a shaved head and was covered in arm and neck tattoos. Leaning against the counter he poked Sina in the arm.

Peering up through a lock of long hair at the mermaid stripper, Sina grumbled, "I hate that Ariel wannabe. I wish he'd go stick his head in a blender and turn it up to turbo speed. Ever since he came, the usual pevs have no money for Cookie or me."

Raising a brow, the bartender asked, "Why do you call him Ariel?"

"His hair," Sina twirled a lock of black around his finger. "He reminds me of a mermaid I once saw in a kid's book I had. Hated the damn thing because it was about the protagonist who betrayed her best friend."

"Let me guess. Her best friend was a stripper at Purgatory?"

"Not even close. A talking dolphin."

"Sounds kinda cliché."