Hollywood Bleeds

ten

"AM I SUPPOSED to be here, sir?" Atticus asked over the loud music.

The club had not opened merrily five minutes ago and everyone was already there. Everyone famous you could think of was present in the large club.

From the highest paid actors to the athletes and producers who were making it big in Hollywood. Everyone who had a name known around the world was present in the building.

Most were dancing on the first three floors of the club. Others were drinking at the bars are talking with friends at the many booths and tables. Everyone was someone here with someone-they all wore fake smiles, as if the reason most were there was from a clean past.

Luca wasn't like the people in the room-he was worse. He stayed in the club's corner with a large cup full of whiskey and his bodyguard standing protectively beside him. He leaned back against the wooden table as he observed the dozens of bodies in front of him.

Instead of answering his question Luca asked, "why do you keep calling me sir?"

He doesn't turn to Atticus when he replied, "because you never told me not too."

"The people you worked for wanted you to call them, sir?"

"Yes."

Luca cringed and wrinkled his nose with distaste. "Gross."

Most of the men and woman's in Hollywood that were older than Luca were fools of themselves. They thought of themselves as a higher power and anyone working for them or someone they thought less of wasn't someone who deserved respect. Most treated their employees with disrespect-claiming to never want to look in their eyes or even getting to know their names because it wasn't worth remembering.

"Am I supposed to be here?" Atticus repeated, this time tone harsher and tougher than before.

"Technically no," Luca muttered as he drank his whiskey. "But who doesn't enjoy being rebellious?"

"Sir, I don't want-"

"You're my date for the night, Atticus." Luca stated, walking away from the dark corner and to the edge of the dimly lit bar.

"I'm confused sir I thought the woman in the limo was?"

Luca didn't bother looking away from the glass in his hand. "She's dancing with an NBA star in the corner. I'd really like not to pull her away from that."

"Sir, I don't think this is a good-"

"You can also stop calling me sir," he ordered after taking another sip of his whiskey. "I'm not that much older than you."

"What would you like me to call you then?"

"Luca or Jackson will do," he gestured to the open bar in front of him. "Do you want anything?"

"I'm on the job, sir." Atticus declined.

"No, you're technically on a date," Luca turned slightly Atticus, "with Luca Jackson."

Atticus sighed but kept his eyes straight ahead. "I'm going to be guarding you whenever you're out." A small smile made its way to his lips. "So I'll always be on a date with you."

Luca chuckled, shaking his head as he placed his glass down on the bar.

"You got a sense of humor, I'll give you that."

Atticus puffed his chest slightly as he fixed his suit. "Are you planning to leave with someone?"

Leave tonight with someone? Would he? Could he?