Something Red

Part Seven

...he breezes past me like I'm not even standing there -like I'm nothing.

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Living by myself and going to college obviously means I have a lot of bills to pay, so during the weekends I work at this bar 'DISCORD' in what most people here call the bad side of town. I don't care about the rumors as long as I get my bills paid and I have some money in pocket so I don't have to depend on anyone to survive.
It's Friday night and I have a shift at the club in about thirty minutes, so I'm getting ready. I wear my uniform a short black leather skirt that grips my hips and thighs too tightly and a red cotton shirt with a name tag that I have to tuck in with my black converses. I would wear fishnets under the skirt because I can't stand my legs bare but most times I think it does more harm than good- makes me look like a hooker apparently. So today I decide to wear thick black stockings that reach my thighs mid-way and pull my hair into a high ponytail with my bangs pinned back.

Bus rides are always the highlight of my days and I don't give up my ritual window seat as I stare out into the dark streets. Neon lights and veiled faces blur past and I can't ignore the stark difference between the sceneries as we move.

The houses are less grand and homely, even the greenery seems dimmer. It's definitely not my first time in this part of town but the difference is always clear to me. The people here make eye contact whenever I stare. They know I'm watching and they are too.
The bus stops and I get off, snuggling into my coat deeper as I find my way to Discord. I don't even have to look for it, I can hear it already from a distance like a siren's call. Like a beacon it draws in a multitude and they all stumble in mindless of each other. I go in through a back door, employees only.

"Oi Red, you're late."

I don't need to turn around to know who's talking to me.

"Al, fuck off."

I flash him my phone screen, as he comes up behind me, still not looking him as I shrug my coat off. 6:59.

"A minute early, lucky you aaaand your boy toy sexted you." He smirks at me with a wink, flicking the quiff of his dyed silver hair over his head as he saunters out of the hallway.

I roll my eyes at his antics, hanging up my coat and unlocking my phone to see the message from Dylan.

I try to resist the small smile that threatens to curl my lips biting on my bottom lip as I text him back.

I give his text one last glance before locking my phone and tucking it into my shirt pocket. I walk down the hallway until I'm behind the bar and I'm handed a tray of drinks absentmindedly by one of the head waitresses.

The beautiful thing about Discord is how organized everything is even though it's a club. It makes it easier for me to navigate through the crowd without having to spill any of the drinks I'm obligated to parade around with.

It's a club, of course, people have to dance and get wild but that's why there's a space in the center of the place for that. People come here for different reasons, the club understands that and makes it convenient for every kind of customer they could possibly have.

I work with the slightly more reasonable people who just drink and either talk or don't. I don't have to bother myself with warding off gropers and the like. People here behave themselves most times.

I walk around for a few minutes and soon the tray is empty so I return to the bar to get another round. Instead of giving me another tray, Zelda gives me a note and a couple of drinks obviously personally ordered for and shoos me away with a wave of her chipping manicured nails. I ignore her, balancing the tray on my hand as I read the note.

'Second floor, P.B. 5'

This is all the way up from the ground floor, for a high paying customer and in a private booth. I don't like it one bit. It's not the first time Zelda has given me this sort of errand. Most customers of this nature are rude and egoistical. They think that just because I work here and bring drinks to them I'm part of the service. If anyone tries to touch me again I will do more than splash expensive alcohol on their no doubt equally expensive clothes. Even if it costs me my job, I know I will do it.

After taking a quick elevator ride up to the second floor, I locate the specific booth amongst the others I am supposed to be serving this evening.
It's dimly lit as I step into the booth, pulling the curtains aside carefully focusing on balancing the tray of drinks on one of my hands.
The talking does not falter as I go around the table, dropping the drinks carefully but never once looking up. Looking up would draw attention to me and I definitely do not want that.
Bvlgari, Versace, Louis Vuitton, Balmain, Dior, and need I go on? Rich men with their pretty playthings hanging off their arms daintily, I am not surprised. I do a little mock bow and turn to leave, pulling the curtains aside again with the tray tucked under my arm.
I'm nearly mowed over but I step back just in time as my eyes dart up to meet the eyes of my unlikely assailant with a glare. I find myself glaring up at Narcissus. Once again he's not alone but before I can even register this fully, he breezes past me like I'm not even standing there -like I'm nothing.

"What took you so long Blackwood?"

A guff voice welcomes him from behind me and I take that as my cue to leave, not waiting to hear what he has to say. I don't dare look back.
I pull the curtains aside again and I walk out of the booth. If they need anything else, Zelda will be sure to send me back up.

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