The Prince is Having a Ball

Part 4

Part 4

 

SILAS:

I have one eye on Mr B, who’s manning the east corner, one eye on Kota, who’s got the west corner, another eye on Nathan, who’s on the door, and another eye on Gabe, who’s working the south corner. There’s a genuine problem with all of that--that I don’t have that many eyes. That’s the problem with North being an overprotective douchebag. He insisted on watching Sang at the perfectly safe fancy ball thing, leaving me to do all of the security.

Sure, each of us can hold our own, but it’s better when we have at least two guys keeping the central point, overseeing everything, and just being general badasses. Doc’s at the hospital, and Victor’s with Sang and North. So here I am, sitting at a tall table, surrounded by skunky people wearing chains and black.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I take a quick peek at my phone. We all communicate in a giant group text--it just makes it easier for everyone to be on the same page. That, and the fact that the head-banger music in this place is too loud to even think, let alone carry on a phonecall.

Gabe: LUKE, HOW ARE THE TOILETS?

I grin to myself. Luke drew the short straw and got stuck on bathroom/hallway patrol. That’s the worst job, especially at a dank, musty, old club like this. No one ever cleans. You know where the bathrooms are from smell--about 100 feet away. Being stationed in that hallway? It’s a constant gag trigger.

Luke: LOVELY, THANK YOU. I’VE NAMED EACH OF THEM. MY FAV STALL IS NAMED ANNE FRANK.

Nate: WTF, WHY?

Luke: BECAUSE IT’S BEEN THROUGH SOME HORRIBLE THINGS, MAN. IT’S SEEN SOME BAD SHIT.

Gabe: YOU’RE GOING TO HELL, BRO.

Luke: BAD SHIT--SHIT--GET IT? I THINK YOU’RE MISSING THE PUN.

Gabe: NOPE--I GOT IT, BUT ANNE FRANK? C’MON, MAN. THAT’S LIKE A HELEN KELLER JOKE.

Blackbourne: ARE YOU FINISHED?

I chuckle, pocketing my phone. Mr B commenting is pretty much a guarantee that they’ll stop messing around.

I do another casual glance around the club, focusing on my checkpoints. There’s still been no sighting of our mark, and no obvious dealing going on. It’s frustrating. I just want to be done with this job so I can interrupt North and Victor’s night with Sang, steal her away for myself.

I’m sweating from the lack of air movement and thick crowd’s body heat, and sitting on this stool is way too freakin’ hard in the tight black jeans Gabe dressed me in. When he gave them to me, I told him that they were a size too small, and he just flipped me off, telling me he knew. There’s no way to sit down without feeling like the circulation to my dick is being cut off, and the God of Love doesn’t like to be tied down.

I’m miserable. The frayed edges of my ripped-off sleeves tickle my shoulders, and it gives the illusion that there are bugs crawling on me.

The only thing I actual like about my stupid costume is the sleeve of fake tattoos Gabe gave me. Kind of makes me want to get some. The style genius designed it himself in his “spare time,” and it is pretty fucking awesome. North was jealous. It’s all Greek. Zeus yielding lightning bolts from the clouds, the Parthenon, Achilles in armor, a pegasus, Spartan spears, and more, all effortlessly entwining and fitting together seamlessly. But my favorite? Aphrodite with Sang’s face, showcased right on my inside forearm.

Nate: DOOR UPDATE: SANG, NORTH, AND VIC JUST SHOWED UP.

Gabe: AWWW YEEEAAAH! HERE COMES TROUBLE!

SANG:

I have no clue if I’m dressed the correct way, but I don’t really care that much. Victor and North couldn’t stop staring at me, so I just accept that as good.

Finally at the club, which looks old and musty and dirty, Victor helps me out of the Porsche, and I go to straighten my hair, until I remember that the point of it is to be messy. I did quick fake dreadlocks, and then just smudged out my already smokey eye makeup that Gabe had done earlier.

“Ready, Princess?” Victor asks in his velvety sweet voice, cupping my cheek with his palm.

“Yeah,” I smile at him.

Then, I’m being pulled away by a thick arm around my waist, North: “Nah, baby, you gotta be more hardcore than that. Look where we are. Now tell me--are you ready?”

I look up at him, seeing the twinkle of amusement in his dark eyes, black in the dim light cast off the streetlamp.

“FUCK YEAH!” I shout gleefully.

North throws his head back laughing, then quickly captures my lips with his. Finally he pulls back, “FUCK YEAH!”

I don’t care if everyone else is working--I’m going to have some fun.