𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑-𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐊𝐀𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐙

Behind the Bar

Elvira Lanciére

"Elvira. You have to do this mission. I never ask anything more from you that includes my business, but you need to do this for me." My father said as I was sat in his office.

"I never get involved with your killing, scary shit!! I don't know anything about tracking down people... or bugging objects, everything!!" I snapped, hoping my father would drop this.

"If you don't, I'll take your credit card away permanently-"

"Deal." I quickly said bluntly and sighed in slight shame.

Having a dad who was the most dangerous mafia leader in France was tough. It was draining, and honestly, I missed how he was when I was younger. After my mom died when I was 4, I only had him. I missed when he tucked me into bed; I missed our game night on Saturdays when he finally had time for us... for me. It might sound childish, but I hated growing up. On my 18th birthday, I cried myself to sleep, knowing nothing had changed. My dad was still gone doing business, hurting people. Leaving me alone. I guess it's selfish since he provided money, food, shelter, all that shit. I just wish he provided himself. I remember whenever I heard my father's name, "Lucian Lanciére," I pictured him as a father figure, but over time, he just turned into a stranger. It really hurt; it was the first time my own father had talked to me in weeks, and it was just for business. I've always wanted a father, but I just had a dad.

Some people used to say I was a spoiled brat... and I didn't even blame them. It wasn't my money on my credit card, it was my father's. My dad was mostly lenient when it came to curfew, language all that stuff... but he never let me get a job. Never. He always said it was too dangerous because he had so many enemies. And don't get me wrong, I was grateful that I was rich... but sometimes I just wanted to be normal. But whenever I told myself that, I always had this wave of guilt flooding my brain... I was lucky financially. I didn't have to worry about taxes, bills, anything... but I just didn't have anything to wake up to. I felt trapped in my own head. I wasn't really allowed friends, people to talk to, and especially a boyfriend. There was really no need to wake up in the morning...

"Who's the target then?" I asked, drinking some orange juice.

"You've heard of him before, Tom Kaulitz. Pretty young... around 21 years old, just 3 years older than you, Elvira. But you need to be careful, he's extremely dangerous. He'll grasp onto your weaknesses and exploit them for his advantage. But you'll be fine... he always has this smug look on his face you'd wanna punch anyway." My father expressed, his frown growing more apparent as he continued.

"You'll also need this." My dad slid a file across the oak table towards me. I opened it, observing a bunch of info on this Tom Kaulitz. Brown eyes, Black cornrows, Baggy clothes... yeah okay, blah blah blah, boring. I flipped over the page and I froze as my eyes widened. That's what he looked like?! His jaw was so chiseled it could cut me in half, and not a single strand of hair out of place. Just elegantly braided. I look back at the front of the page, it acknowledged his brown eyes... I look back at his photo. His eyes were a gentle hazel with an obvious coldness around his pupil, god he was killing me already. And his lips, god his lips... his black piercing framing his mouth-

"Stop acting up, Elvira." My dad said interrupting my trance.

"Huh? Oh sorry..."

My father explained that I had to be a bartender at Ecstasy Velvet, a well-known strip club. Seriously, a strip club? Basically my first job... seeing disgusting, creepy, drunk men ogling half-naked women on poles, just picturing them doing sinful deeds. Gross.

//

The next day, I walked behind the counter waiting for Tom to show up, my eyes gliding towards the beautiful girls on the poles. They were so pretty, I nearly felt jealous, especially of their confidence. I was quite an insecure girl. I was very quiet too, which was one of the reasons why I didn't want to help my dad kill Tom. I wasn't a killer; I was just a normal girl, and especially a girl that didn't work at a strip club. Well, I say that, but my outfit said the complete opposite. I wore a tight, short black and white leopard print dress with tiny spaghetti straps barely holding up my breasts. I purposely pulled the top of my dress down slightly after preparing a few cocktails, exposing a lot of cleavage. I also wore tall, black stilettos that lifted my height, making me appear more mature. I had to look the part. Even when I felt super uncomfortable and my breasts were about to spill out, I knew it would all be over soon.

"Martini. Now." I heard a deep, german voice say behind me, sending a shiver up my spine.

I looked over my shoulder and froze. Tom Kaulitz.