ENGLISH VERSION - Second Star to the Right (Mikey Bonten)

Chapter 3: Tenjiku

POV AYANA

Tokyo, April 27, 2012

What the hell am I doing here?

That question keeps echoing in my mind ever since I walked through the doors of Tenjiku, or what might as well be the Devil's lair. Nestled in the heart of Shinjuku, this nightclub attracts a crowd hungry for thrills and eager for excess.

My eyes glued to my phone screen, I read Yuna's message while nervously adjusting the waitress outfit that's way too short for my liking.

Yuna
9:55 PM: Thanks, girl. I swear I'll make it up to you.

Ayana
9:56 PM: It's fine, dw about it. It's what friends are for.

We've only known each other for a month, ever since the start of university. From day one, Yuna came up to me with her contagious energy. Everything feels easier with her around. She's been my lifeline since Japan became so foreign after all those years in Europe.

Yuna
9:57 PM: I don't even know how I caught this nasty flu. I feel so bad for putting this on you.

When she got sick, she begged me to cover for her at her job as a waitress at Tenjiku. I hesitated. I hate these kinds of places, especially the people who hang out in them. But Yuna was about to lose her job, and I know how much she needs the money. Tokyo is really expensive for a student.

Ayana
9:58 PM: It's not your fault. I'll do my best to make sure you don't get fired. ;)

"What the hell are you doing?"

The voice of Yuna's boss, and for tonight, temporarily mine, startles me. He's a short, sleazy-looking guy who reeks of cologne and cigarettes. His balding head and beer belly are only accentuated by the shirt that's way too tight. He's the perfect image of a slimy dude who abuses his authority.

"Good evening, I'm Ayana. I'm standing in for Yuna tonight."

He pretends to think for a second, eyeing me up and down, his disgusting gaze lingering way too long on my bare legs.

"Yeah, she told me... It's okay for tonight. You're just the type my customers like. They're into new faces," he says, a creepy grin spreading across his face. "Handle the tables upstairs. VIP clients, very important people. Don't screw it up, or your friend can kiss her job goodbye."

I want to snap back and tell him he should send someone more experienced if these clients are so important, but I bite my tongue.

"Alright," I say through gritted teeth.

He nods and walks away. I stuff my phone into my locker with a sigh. Putting on a confident front, I leave the staff room and head toward the area the boss mentioned. The music pounds through the club, and people are going wild on the dance floor.

At the top of the stairs, the VIP tables blend into the shadows, bathed in blue and purple neon lights. Several men are sitting there, surrounded by stunning women, as gorgeous as models. None of them notice me, until my gaze lands on the central table. Three men in sharp suits are sitting there. They radiate an aura that's both mysterious and dangerous. The tallest one, with purple hair, signals me to come over with a charming smile. My confidence wavers, but I force myself to stay composed.

"Good evening, sweetheart. First time I've seen you here. What's your pretty name?" he asks, tapping his glass with his long, slender fingers.

Up close, he's even more striking. His features are delicate, and his purple hair is perfectly styled. The two other men, equally intimidating, stare at me as well. One of them, with long purple hair, looks like the first, while the other, with pink hair, hides part of his face behind a black mask, but his piercing blue eyes are unsettling. He looks familiar, like I know him from somewhere.

"Ayana. I'll be taking care of you tonight."

"Oh yeah? You're gonna take care of us? I can't wait to see how," he smirks, clearly implying something else. I clench my jaw at his suggestive tone, but quickly remind myself that I can't afford to screw this up, so I give him a fake smile.

"I mean, I'll be your waitress tonight."

"He's just teasing you, sweetheart. Relax," says the one who looks like him, bursting into laughter.
I pretend to share their amusement and ask politely, "What can I get you, gentlemen?"

"How about you?" the pink-haired one says.

I turn my gaze toward him. He doesn't blink, staring at me with a creepy intensity.

"Cut it out. You're scaring the new girl, Sanzu," says the one with long purple hair. I consider telling them off, but judging by their attitudes, they aren't just anyone. They seem like the kings of this place. Basic survival instinct: avoid unnecessary confrontations. I let it go.

"Bring us three bottles of Belvedere, beautiful."

I nod and walk away, hearing their laughter behind me. As I head down the stairs toward the bar, someone suddenly grabs my arm, yanking me against a solid chest. My heart races, my skin prickles.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Ayana?"

Atsushi.

I spin around to face Atsushi Seno. He's one of the few friends I allowed myself to reconnect with after coming back to Japan.

"Are you deaf or something? I asked you what the hell you're doing here?" he snaps, gripping my arm tighter.

"I'm covering for a friend! What about you, huh? I could ask you the same question," I shoot back, pulling my arm free.

"This isn't a place for you. You don't get it," he sighs, dodging my question.

"Don't worry about me, I can handle myself. And it's just for tonight, I'm not signing up for a full-time job. But you, what are you doing here?"

He scratches his head, clearly uncomfortable. "Nothing, I've gotta see someone, that's all."

"Who?"

"You don't know them."

He's hiding something, I can tell.

"I thought you quit this shit." Back in middle school, he was in a gang, the Toman. That gang was one of the reasons I wasn't too sad to leave Japan. When I came back, Atsushi swore it was over.

"Drop it, okay? It's nothing serious. What time do you finish?"

"Two."

"Alright, I'll wait for you outside."

"You don't have to."

He smiles. "You think I'm giving you a choice?" His question is rhetorical. He leans in, pulling me into a hug and whispers in my ear, "Please, just be careful. Don't get into trouble."

Then, he disappears into the crowd. I shake my head and get back to work.

I run around like crazy, attending to the VIP clients. The three men at the top of the stairs are the biggest spenders, and it's scary how much they consume.

Four in the morning. End of my shift. I'm exhausted, like I just ran a marathon. I slip out the employee door, which leads into a poorly lit alley. A sinister crack echoes. A man dressed in black is beating... Atsushi.