Daddy Gets High

Chapter 3

Harry

Zayn had his earphones in as we drove to 17 Black. He's going over his routine, and going over it, and going over it. He's a perfectionist when it comes to his dancing. He's been doing it for a few years now and he always tells me that one way to ensure you're always employed is to take things up a level, and don't keep everything the same.

I'm anxious for seeing Louis again tonight. For the months I've had this job, he's the only person to ever talk to me about things other than sexual fantasies or upsetting pasts.

I pull around to the back of the club and park. Zayn gets out and grabs our bags from the back seat. He hands me mine and we walk in through the back door that takes us down a hallway, leading to the stage.

It's only six, so the poles around the room are only being practised on. Some men, and women spotting each other and critiquing.

I see Dominic setting up some chairs around the main stage where the catwalk comes out in the centre.

"Hey, Nic." Zayn says as we walk across the stage.

"Hey." He says and looks up to us. The stage is in the shape of a T, it engages the audience a lot better when you can bring more people against the stage. Using the bottom of the T helps get more money.

I follow Zayn into the back room and Christian is sitting in front of the mirror applying face paint. As we walk by I see the lightning bolt he's drawing over his eye.

"Looks good." Zayn comments as we go past him to the area with lockers and a bench.

"Can you finish it? I can never get it right when it's going over my eyebrow." He asks and Zayn turns back to face him.

"Sure."

Everyone knows Zayn's the most artistic out of us all. He's talented. He likes drawing, his room is filled with canvases of his art. The skatepark down the the road from our house is filled with graffiti of his.

I take out my clothes from my bag and put them on the bench as I watch Zayn take the brush with the yellow face paint and carefully drag it over Christian's skin.

I take off my shirt and pants and toss them in my bag.

"There." Zayn says and I see the yellow lightning bolt with a gold lining around it.

Christian turns around to the mirror and looks at it, "That's sick. Thanks."

"No problem." Zayn says and comes back to his locker a few doors down from mine.

"What's yours today?" Zayn asks and picks up the white underwear that was put on the bench.

"Angel." I tell him.

"I might need to borrow that. You got a halo or something?" He pulls out his costume which I recognize as his policeman.

"Yeah. But I see you're sticking with the workforce costumes." I chuckle as he pulls out the hat and glasses. He slides the glasses over his eyes and crosses his arms in an intimidating way.

It makes me laugh and I look away to put my bag in my locker.

"Honestly though," he says and takes the glasses off, putting them inside his hat and putting it on the bench, "I can't wait until Monday when we can return to our normal stuff."