POISON

conversations

By the time Gerard had arrived at the club, it was late.

Unfortunately, Frank didn't appear to have started his shift yet, and he knew Val wasn't here either because his car wasn't parked outside. Since it was already nearing midnight, he hoped this wouldn't mean this shift wasn't going to be spent entirely alone. In the past, this hadn't bothered him, he could get on with his work by himself, but he'd recently grown accustomed to the company in between shifts.

With the intention of switching up his playlist, Gerard headed straight to the DJ, Matthew, however he'd done it so often in the past few weeks that Matthew had insisted on upping the price, and, usually, Gerard could be very persuasive, but Matthew dealt with people like him on a daily basis and was no longer fazed. In the end, Gerard just paid the extra cost.

"You know damn well this ain't fair." He narrowed his eyes, slapping the cash into his palm.

"Annoy me, and I'll play you some really shit songs during your set." Matthew smiled. "You don't like the prices, then stick to the songs you've already paid for."

"Do you make everyone pay this much?"

"No, this is especially for you." He deadpanned, receiving a glare in return.

"I've been here for years, why you gotta do this now?"

"Poison." Matthew sighed. "Just do what you do and try not to turn minor inconveniences like this into big dramas."

"I'm just askin'!" He whined defensively, a hand on his hip. Matthew raised his eyebrows in reply, and Gerard took that as his cue to leave before he got on his bad side.

Tonight, he'd bought a new pair of jeans, however he'd made his own alterations to them. On both sides, he'd cut two separate lines up and down the front and back, all the way from the ankle seams to the upper thigh, then had secured the material together with red thread. Because they'd look better if he didn't have anything on underneath, he'd spent extra time making sure the thread wouldn't come apart to avoid ending up too exposed.

He'd buckled two belts around his waist, only through two loops for them to hang off his hips in an overlap. As for a shirt, he'd chosen a white cropped button down, which he paired with a blood red tie, and a black harness. Of course, like always, he'd added a garter around his thigh. Then, he grabbed a pair of ankle boots out of his locker.

After his set on stage, his attention was caught by a woman offering to pay for simple conversation, which Gerard hadn't done too often, and was eager to accept. She led him over to a table near the centre of the club, within sight of the stage and the dance floor. He'd learned her name was Shannon, and she'd quickly learned that he wasn't going to give her his real name in return – she didn't mind too much or insist like most customers did.

Before they'd gotten too much into conversation, they'd both ordered drinks. It was rather nice to have been accompanied by a woman for a change, considering he was always surrounded by men. Shannon had curly brown hair, wearing a black dress, a leather jacket, and many silver bangles.

"What does your girlfriend think of your job?" She asked, taking a sip of the cocktail she'd ordered.

Amused, Gerard raised his eyebrows, "I work here, and you think I'm straight? Oh, honey, I've got somethin' to tell ya."

"I didn't wanna assume." Shannon shrugged. "Your boyfriend, then?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but he told me that he's okay with it, so sorry to disappoint if you were hopin' for a great sob story. Besides, he works here too."

"Does he!?" She gasped excitedly, "Can I guess who it is?"

"Sure, but even if you get it right, I ain't tellin' ya."