Chandelier

BUZZZ****BUZZZ****BUZZZ******BUZZZ

My arm shot out from under the covers and started flailing around, searching desperately for the off button. After a few painful moments, The fingers connected with the alarm, and I was granted sweet, sweet silence. I slowly lifted my head from the pillows, eyes burning from the sudden light spilling in through the window. Then I saw the time, 6:30 P.M.

Crap, crap, crappity crap crap. This is soo not my day.

I shot out of bed, grabbing my uniform with one hand and my bag with the other. The only advantage of being broke I had found so far: My flat was so small I could easily run from my room to the bathroom in 15 seconds. As soon as I stepped inside the shower I grimaced, the cold water spilling down on me even though the dial said Hot. I let my tired body rest against the cool tile on the walls.

This was my life, as completely unglamorous as it seemed. Tiny apartment, ramen for breakfast, no hot water, and working the entire night at the club. I mentally prepared myself for going back to work, before peeling myself from the wall. I could be miserable later, right now I had to attempt to get to work, before Sal noticed.

As soon as I'd dried off somewhat, I jumped around, trying to get the black skinny jeans on my wet skin. As soon as my uniform shirt was over my shoulders, I bolted for the door. I ran into the street, thinking about all the things Sal would say, how many tables he'd make me wait tonight as punishment for being late.

Thirty Minutes later I ran in through the back door of Vix, panting and out of breath. I looked around the kitchen, seeing chefs and waitstaff alike, but no Sal. As I walked towards the door dividing the kitchen from the rest of the club, a cold hand grabbed my wrist. I turned to see Vivian, the head chef, looking up at me.

"Fae, Sal's in a business meeting in the club right now, and asked not to be disturbed." I hesitated, torn between wanting to listen to my uncle and wanting to know what he was up to. Vivian must have seen something in my face, though, because she shook her head and handed me a rag.

“Trust me Fae, there’s worse things in life than not knowing your Uncle’s business. Now go make yourself useful and clean the dancer’s dressing room.”

I nodded to Vivian and walked out another set of doors, my mind already far away. I couldn’t get into the club, but that didn’t mean a dancer couldn’t. I pushed the blood red doors to the dancers’ dressing room open, and was greeted by the sight of twenty girls crowded around mirrors, primping for the show. I looked past the sea of platinum blonde with brown roots for a familiar mop of red hair. Evie.

The other girl looked up from her nails, the intense look of concentration on her face replaced by a smile when she saw me. She waved me over, and I sat down next to her on the scarlet couch, surrounded by feather boas of every kind. She leaned in to be heard over the shrill voices of the other dancers, and I caught a whiff of vanilla perfume.

“Well, hello Fae, what are you doing here? You look terrible!” Anyone else saying these words would have made me bristle, but coming from Evie and her soft spoken southern accent, I couldn’t help but smile. I leaned in and whispered, “I need to get into the VIP area without anyone noticing, think you can help?”

Five minutes later I lay on my stomach on the ground, carefully hidden behind boxes filled with tech. equipment. Evie and I had moved boxes upon boxes of junk to uncover a small service entrance into the club, leading to the tech booth. It had started out big enough, but by the time I made It to the booth, I was crawling. Now I was a good three feet from the entrance, and could pick out pieces of the conversation. And it wasn’t good.

“Please, just give me some more time, I can make more money, I promise!” This was the voice of my uncle, through his voice sounded hoarse and strained. He didn’t sound optimistic. A grunt of pain traveled through the air, and I knew it was Sal’s. A gasp escaped my lips, and I quickly covered my mouth. Being killed by a gang just because I had girl from the horror movies moment was definitely not the way to go. Ever.

It went silent, and I felt my heartbeat speed up. I heard a “click” of a safety being pulled, before someone walked out of the VIP area, into the storage area where I was. Once their shoes ( expensive leather) hit the floor (cheap wood), they made a “click clack” noise.

“Click”. The person stood in the center of the room, taking in the boxes, tables, and chairs that filled it.

“Clack”. Went to a table across the room, and lifted the tablecloth. It was dark, but I could just make out the dark, muscular frame of them as they looked around the room for any more targets.

“Click” They went off to the right, closer to the door to look behind the stack of chairs. I saw my chance and started crawling towards the service door. It was only about twenty feet away from me, and if I stayed low and hugged the ground, I could easily make it.

“Clack”. The boots echoed from somewhere else in the room, but I didn’t care. I was close now, only ten feet away. I slid, so close to freedom, almost safe from the danger.

“Click”. The boots rested three feet away from me, their owner right above me, looking down. I dived, trying to get out of the way, but they were quicker. Their hands wrapped around me, pulling me up, before slamming me into a wall. My head spun, my mouth hurt, and my feet didn’t touch the ground. I saw a flash of silver, and a glint from their dark eyes as I looked at the barrel of the gun, aimed right at my head. Oh Fu-

Notes

Ok, I realize it's a little weird to start another story when I just started Something Fishy, but I really, really wanted to do something dark, soo...

(ps. Will update SF, no worries)