Cotton Club: Bloodlust (Under Construction)!!!! ⚠️

Chapter 2-Part 1

It's thirty minutes before the doors open to the Cotton Club. I've had all night to sleep on this...There is no way in hell I can go another night cleaning another damn table. I didn't betray my parents, and travel all the way from North Carolina, to be pushed by some bitch into a table, who is ugly as hell. I'll be damned! I am surprised the doors are open. I walk inside the deserted place, looking high and low for the manager. He comes from the back of the stage, and towards the bar where I am is obviously annoyed that I am so early.

"Little girl, leave. You know we don't open for another thirty minutes."

"I know. And, I am not a little girl. I am a grown-ass woman."

I step to his face. He sees my voice is stern, and I am direct. He doesn't respond, allowing me to finish.

"I want to get on that stage. I want to sing."

"But, your two weeks aren't up. We had a deal."

"Fuck the deal!" I hit my hand on the bar table. "If I must clean another damn table, I am going to scream. I didn't come all the way from the South to bust some tables. Now, either I get on that stage, or I'm stealing someone's spot."

Just when I think he's developing a soft spot, his anger is fueled.

"I have a better idea! You're fired."

"He walks past me and heads to the back of the bar. He begins cleaning the tables. I walk up to one of the stools."

"You can't fire me! I haven't done anything."

"You're threatening to get on that stage without permission. That's against the law."

She isn't going anywhere!

Where did that voice come from? I turn around, and, there at the entrance of the door, I see him. The man in the fedora. Only this time, he wears a solid black suit, matching fedora with a bold red tie. He tilts his head slightly, revealing his beautiful brown eyes. My goodness, he's handsome. He walks towards us. I look back at the manager and, I see him, feeling so intimidated. He can't even look this man in the eye.

"Do you want to sing, doll?" He asks, looking directly into my eyes.

"Yes. Yes, I do." I finally say, after staring at him.

"Well, you can! We can squeeze a spot for you."

"Michael, have you lost it?! She's not even star quality!" The manager yells, interrupting him.

Michael narrows his eyes on the guy. His jaw flinches, he is so upset. Michael grabs the man by the collar, from across the table.

"You work for me, Porter. Don't forget that. If I say she can sing, she can sing!"

He pushes him a little too hard while releasing him from his shirt. The guy goes flying against the other end of the bar, before receiving a hard fall. Michael simply shakes his head, annoyed, while looking back at me.

"And, what's your name, love?" He asks, taking my hand.

"Isabelle," I say meekly.

He raises an eyebrow, with a hint of a mischievous expression.

"That's a beautiful name," Michael compliments. "I hope you don't mind. I want to call you Belle. I mean, you are from the South, and you're a Southern Belle."

"I would love that."

"I'm Michael, by the way. I just hope you can really sing. Otherwise, this crowd can get quite rowdy." He says as a warning...

The truth of the matter is, I am frightened...But I can't let him or anyone else in this club know that.

I smile with conviction. "I won't disappoint you."