So give me black light, (Give, give me)
So give me hot knives, (Deep clean sleep)
On a dance floor no one tells time.
There is no time.
...
The minute the young woman entered the café, her rosy lipstick-rimmed smile faltered and her high-heeled steps clicked to a stop. It wasn't the nice middle-aged man, the singular man that was actually kind to her-that she'd grown to like, it was the woman she'd seen him kissing only days ago; right after their session had been over. This woman was middle-aged, too. Her face worn but her eyes sharp and pointed straight at the young woman hovering near the door.
She knows. The young woman realized, She knows about the affair.
It takes a lot of courage for the young woman to approach the table and take a seat opposite the housewife. "Hello" the young woman spoke up first, brushing her long straight black hair over her shoulder.
The housewife calmly took the phone out of her pocket, the phone that Mrs. Argent had given the middle aged man in order to maintain regular sessions. "You're Eden?" the woman asked coldly.
Eden nodded, smirking to herself at her own name; what her mother's finger had landed on in the bible. Ironic considering the kind of life she had since undertaken. "I assume you're his wife?" she asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. She'd always pictured the kind man as a husband, married for years with three children. He was probably a good father. That was what Eden had found to love about him; a small thing to appreciate, as she always found in her clients.
"Not anymore," the woman stated bitterly, Eden's casual demeanor bringing out her hatred for the young girl quicker then the housewife had expected. As per her plan, the housewife slipped the photocopied document from her purse and onto the countertop. "Look what you've done"
The words At-Fault Divorce screamed back at Eden from the top of the paper. "That's a shame" Eden commented, reaching out her nimble fingers to pick up the slim black phone her service had given the man. "I'm really sorry it had to end that way for you, but this is really none of my business"
The housewife was shocked, shocked and furious, "None of your business? You tramp! You seduce my husband and ruin our marriage: our kid's childhoods, and you have the nerve to tell me it's none of your business? That you're sorry?" the woman said, her voice rising slowly until she was nearly yelling, causing looks from the nearby coffee patrons.
Eden leaned over the table, a pitying expression delicately painted on her beautiful face, "I'm sorry, because he sought out my work. I'm sorry, because he selected me. I'm sorry, because the only thing I could think of when he was pounding me into the mattress is that he was wearing a wedding ring," she had to pause and take a deep breath in order to stop her watering eyes, "I'm sorry, because you're not the only one that suffered in this."
The housewife was speechless, her mouth hung open as Eden quietly pushed her chair back from the table and got up, disappearing out the café door.
Her next appointment was at 8 o'clock; a new client. If she wanted to make it back to the house by then, Eden would have to waste money on a cab. But money was nothing in this business; because whenever she made what Mrs. Argent said she owed in order to win her freedom, Eden would always end up owing more.
Why would you ever want to leave this life, my dear little Eden? Everything is paid for you, you have a roof over your head every night and a hot meal three times a day. All you have to worry about is pleasing the customer. They give you expensive gifts; shoes and jewelry and anything else you could want. Eden, are you an ungrateful little bitch? With a shiver, Eden shook Mrs. Argent's voice out of her head and focused on smiling. Smiling and being happy; to please the customer.
"You're late!" Heaven exclaimed the minute she stepped foot in the house's door.
Eden frowned in worry, "I was downtown meeting with-"
"It doesn't matter, Mrs. Argent is furious with you! You're client's waiting in your room, you better get ready before you go up" Heaven said, her quick hands already occupied with taking off Eden's coat before turning their attention to her shirt.
"In my room?" Eden asked, furrowing her brows in confusion as she took off her scarf and slid off her skirt.
Heaven gave her a quick smile before dragging her down the hall towards the downstairs dressing room where the girls that worked in the playrooms kept their makeup. "This client insisted to be taken there instead of the client rooms for some reason. I think he's a gramophone. When I got a peek of him, he was wearing gloves" she said, expertly giving Eden ruby-red lips and fuller eyelashes with the makeup supplies.
"You mean a germ-a-phobe?" Eden questioned, making Heaven roll her eyes.
"Yeah, whatever" Heaven said before stepping back to look Eden over. She was clothed only in a black lace bustier, small black panties, and black thigh-high stockings ending in a black lace garter belt. "Hmm, should you leave the heels on?" Heaven questioned aloud, eyeing the bright red pumps with a finger at her lips, "Yeah, guys totally dig that sorta thing. Alright, you're all ready hot stuff!" she decided, giving Eden a thumbs up.
"So, you got a glimpse of him, what does he look like?" Eden questioned Heaven as they walked up the back staircase; although smaller than the one at the grand entrance, it was out of the view of the other clients and less likely to have Mrs. Argent lurking at the top of it.
Heaven shrugged at her question, "I just saw him as he was going up the stairs. The guy likes leather, though, I can tell you that" she said.
"Leather? Wonder why he isn't in one of the playrooms instead then…" Eden commented, receiving a jab in the side from Heaven.
"Oh, hush" she scolded. "Don't be so judgmental, he could be wearing it as a community service. So that the whole community gets to see his fine ass. I mean, damn, it looked darn good walking up those stairs…"
"Would you rather go in there?" Eden asked, gesturing to her bedroom door that the two of them were now standing in front of.
Heaven rolled her eyes once again, "I've got to go get ready for Mr. Warbucks, you smartass" she said, turning sharply on her heels.
"Good luck getting him to adopt you, Annie" Eden called after her, receiving a middle finger in return before Heaven rounded the corner.
As she grasped the cool brass handle, Eden couldn't help but think how nice it would be to be adopted. Saved from this place and put into a nice house; with the only drawback having to tend to someone I don't love. Eden almost laughed at the thought, Silly me, I already do that.
"I apologize for being so tardy," Eden said softly as she entered the room, painting a smile on her face as she did so. Her room was neat and tidy, although she hadn't been expecting company, so it was lucky that Eden was a neat-freak by nature. The client was laying on her blood-red comforted bed with his legs crossed at the ankles. "I hope it didn't put you off" Eden continued, stepping towards the bed slowly until she stood before him. "Hmm? Giving me the silent treatment, huh?" she cooed, spreading her body over him and teasingly holding herself above him with her arms.
With a shock, she realized he was staring at the lacquered wooden cross on her wall above her bed. "A person like you keeps a cross?" he asked, his voice vacant and filled with disinterest towards her actions.
Eden barely caught herself from being upset with the man, even holding back the contempt in her eyes, "Repenting isn't a waste" she said, leaning in to lightly kiss his neck and avoid anything else that could come from his mouth.
"Stop that, did I ask you for that?" he said, the question coming out in the form of rough disproval that was like a sharp slap to her ego.
Men love it when I do that! For him to refuse me… This guy's strange… her thoughts trailed off as Eden took stock of the man beneath her; golden silky hair, pretty face with an ugly scowl, bright blue eyes that burned, leather jacket (and shirt and pants and boots), with the bulge of a gun in the waistband-Eden was off him in the blink of an eye, nearly throwing herself to the floor in her haste. "Who let you bring that up here?" she asked, her voice calm despite her wide fearful eyes.
"My gun?" he questioned lazily, "No one takes my gun from me, and that fool you have downstairs got his foot shot through for trying"
Eden swallowed hard at the thought of good-tempered Jake, the girl's one-man bodyguard, sprouting blood from his expensive shoes. "You can't have it here. You try to hurt me and they'll hurt you much worse" she said, her eyes locked on the shiny gunmetal against his taunt stomach.
"Chill out, you're not worth it" he said in return, producing a chocolate bar from his pocket.
His brashness immediately forced her eyes to his. If anything, this new client was beginning to intrigue her. He didn't pounce on her like all the others, or worship at her feet; he was treating this like it was Eden paying for his company, instead of vice-versa. "I'm not worth it?" she repeated with a smirk, "What kind of man has so much money to throw away that he wastes it on girls that 'aren't worth it'?" she asked rhetorically, suggestively posing on all fours.
"A man that doesn't want his underlings to think he's homosexual" the man stated, taking a bite from the chocolate bar while amusedly observing her effortless catlike, seductive movements as she eased into her pose.
At his words, Eden got up from the bed with a sigh. "I'm sorry, you could have told me sooner and I'd have stopped making advances towards you. Let me put on some clothes and we can spend the rest of the time doing whatever you'd like" she said, thankful that she was done parading around in her underwear for the moment.
"I'm not gay," he said, annoyed. "I just don't want them to get the wrong idea. I'm too busy to get involved with a woman. The lot of you are too much trouble, anyway"
The t-shirt in her hands returned to her dresser drawer. "Oh, I'm sorry" Eden said, "although honestly it was believable with all that leather" and as soon as she'd said it, Eden winced in preparation for a violent retort. However, much to her surprise, the man only chuckled at her. "I… I'm not supposed to mouth off. Sorry" she said, lowering her eyes to the floor as she recovered from her recoil.
"It's made you more interesting than the other girls I've seen here" he commented, "now, come here and take off my boots"
Eden did as she was told, pondering over his words as she undid the laces to his leather boots. Usually I get a smack for making cracks like that. This guy is weird. I haven't had anyone like him before. She realizes, then quietly smiles to herself. That's what I'll love about this one, he's different. New. Exciting. As she thinks it, the man tilts her head up gently with long fingers fit for piano playing. She tries to ignore the accompanying calluses that fit a gun trigger.
He sits her on his lap, both his jacket and the leather vest cast off to leave his torso bare. "Kiss me" he orders, and Eden leans forward obediently to meet his surprisingly soft lips. The result is akin to pure lightning; the sparks that immediately jolt down her spine and send shocks straight to her sex. The kiss hardly feels like any kiss she's had before, because Eden finds herself melting into him; desiring him. Everything intensifies when his tongue snakes to hers and, mingled with her shaky intake of breath, his hand slides up her ribcage to fondle her chest.
Good, Eden thinks, Since when has it ever been this good?
His hands on her make her moan, and almost as if she can't control them, her hips begin to grind against his leather-clad ones. "Off" he says between their unstable breaths and it takes a moment for her to realize that he must be saying words. Talking about her undergarments. But, as she reaches forward to undo the ribbon of her bustier, he catches her hands and rolls her off of him in order to loom over her body.
"Oh" she says apologetically with her misunderstanding, opening her eyes and becoming instantly unable to hold back her lusty gasp upon seeing his face. His eyes are half-lidded in lust, but glittering mischievously in a way that makes her let out a slow shiver lead by her very core. His perfect pink lips are smirking at her, kissed red by their roughness together, parted and panting.
He's undoing the laced ribbon of her bustier himself, leaning down to hungrily kiss her chest when her breasts spring free of the fabric. Eden can feel the tightness already growing in her stomach, the breathless flurry he's put her in, and the wetness in her panties that so few clients have ever given her before. Who is this guy? Why does he… Make me feel so strongly like this? she questioned herself as the man slipped off her shoes, unclipped her garter belt, and rolled down her stockings with teasing fingers trailing fire down her skin.
Fingers, those long piano-playing fingers could work wonders; made her moan and beg for pleasure. But that was nothing compared to actual sex with him, the way he started with torturously slow deep thrusts and worked his way up to faster pounding that left her dazed and screaming wantonly. It was perfection coupled with the way he bent himself over her, as if he was her protector; and the way she could feel his eyes on her, despite her own being closed, as he burnt her with his intensity. Burnt her up and left her breathless with satisfaction, heaving with exhaustion, and shiny with sweat.
It was good. Fantastic. Better than she'd had in a long time; possibly ever.
But he was a client. And like all clients, the man left her on the bed in favor of slipping on his pants.
He took his time re-dressing-although he was no means slow about it-if anything, his actions were businesslike in their paced purposefulness. Not one glance did he give the recovering naked girl sprawled on the bed, his previous amusement lost like his interest in her milky skin. Wordlessly, he leaves a small roll of bills on her dresser, an added tip to the money he'd already given to her keeper. It was when he was in the doorway that it happened; the strange stirring in his gut brought about by her simple quiet words.
"When I do wrong, I am with god" Eden said, quiet enough that he was sure she hadn't mean to be heard. "When I feel lost, I am not at all"
Like the glimmer of a gold speck in a pan, she caught his attention with a quick snap that soon spread throughout his head. It was the same prayer his mother had whispered at night when she thought he was asleep. But Mello didn't acknowledge her words, not even so much as a pause in his step. Mello continued into the hall. Mello walked downstairs. Mello demanded Mrs. Argent give him one of her little black phones, and weather he'd admit it or not, Mello immediately liked having a direct line to his own private Eden.
...
So let us rejoice (Let's rejoice!)
In all this pink noise (Our pink noise!)
An oscillation that we can pinpoint.
We're right here!