According to his memory

Chapter 19

CJ Flint 

Once I arrive to the big building, I go up to the VIP section where I work on the second floor and look down as everyone is coming in for their shifts. Some waitress from the main floor is dancing with a bartender on the empty dance floor. The small black tables were in their usual square form around the dance floor that would be lit up and booming with music in the next half an hour. 

"Boo!"

"Ahh!" I scream and turn to the voice that scared me. It was only Devyn. She was my best waitress friend who was always complaining about having to curl her long, dirty blonde hair. Her hazel eyes shimmer with victory at the reaction she had got out of me.

I shake my head as we head up to the third level that was a staff only floor. We put our street clothes in our lockers as Devyn goes on about her latest art piece. She tells me how there is going to be a famous artist coming to see her gallery. If the artist likes her work she'll be able to quit this job and  make it big like the slaying queen she is.

We go down to the VIP section and get our assigned tables for today. Soon the doors open up and people flowed in like a dam that popped open. I waited with a big smile at the regular, big spenders walked up the glass stair case. I liked waiting on the regulars better than being on the main floor where anyone could come in off the streets. I felt bad for the newer waitresses who had to deal with those animals on the main floor, at least the regulars treated you like a real person. And if you serve them good and they behave themselves no to mention they'll tip you a lot better.

As the night lagged on, I began to feel eyes on me more and more. I felt as if someone's gaze was burning into the back of my head. Quickly, I turn on my heel to see if anyone is in fact staring at me. Unfortunately, I ran into Devyn instead who had been carrying a tray full of drinks.

My spandex feel sticky as the sugary drink that were supposed to go to table six are now in my lap and on the floor.

"CJ, I'm so sorry!" Devyn gasps as she drops to the floor to pick up the glass that littered the floor. 

"What happened." A deep voice demanded. It had to be Lincoln.

"We ran into each other. My uniform is drenched." I explain joining Devyn on the floor to help her clean up.

"I have an extra pair of spandex in my locker." Devyn says.

"Go change. I'll remake the drinks." Lincoln directed. Devyn and I scurry up to the staff lounge where some of the dancers were waiting for their cues to go on.

I remove my bottoms, leaving me nude from the waist down. I earn a few whistles from the remaining dancers. Devyn looks down at me and blushes before handing me her spare spandex. They were exactly my size which was going to be tighter than the ones I had which were a size too big so they weren't as revealing or tight. I wiggle them on with only a slight struggle.

"Are they a bit small?" Devyn asks with a small laugh as she looks at my backside that was practically falling out.

"They're exactly my size. I don't know how they're small, unless I gained in my booty." I explain popping out my butt for emphases. "Let's just get back to work."

Walking down the stairs made my behind more exposed as the fabric rod up. I pull them down before getting back to serving. 

"Hey C, Layla needs some help on the ground." Devyn called as she carries another tray over to a party over in the corner. I nod to her before going to the stairs. Nicolas, the dancing bartender, smiled at me as he climbs up the glass stairs. As I take my first step on the glass the spandex ride up. I grab the bottoms of each leg and pull them down as my foot should have landed on the first step. There wasn't anything under my foot and I fell. For a split second it feels like one of those dreams you have when you fall and are woken up before you can hit the ground. 

A shooting pain tore at my back and it felt as if my spandex where strangling my bottom half. AN ear piecing noise sprang into my ears. Screams were muffled around me. I could see people running through the ashes somewhere underneath me. I can see flames coming up to lick my legs. But I couldn't acknowledge it as I could see the body of the bartender who had been carelessly dancing not even five hours ago. He was burning probably ten feet below me, going in and out of consciousness. 

Adrenaline was wearing out as I fell the spandex tear slightly. A pole that had been holding up the staircase had found its way under my pant leg and was dangling me over death.