When Mickey looked at the time he realized he had slept a lot longer than he thought he had. It was almost 3 o'clock in the afternoon, and Mickey had a shift at 5. Getting out of bed he heard the sounds of his back and neck crack as he forced himself out. Once he lit a cigarette he was fine, he felt like he had one of the best sleeps in the world, and he wonders why he can't sleep like that every night. He hopped in the shower, and brushed his teeth and put on his cleanest pair of jeans and his work shirt. His work shirt was black, and showed dust from the floor clinging to it. "Eden's" in big red bold letters spread across his chest, and underneath read "Where even saints find their temptation". He always thought the name of the club to be a bit generic, but knowing its a run down club filled with gangsters, perverts, and cheap whores- the name seemed to make the place seem a little nicer.

When he got to the club, he went to the back to punch in- then to the front where his manager usually was. Everyday he's got him doing something new. Somedays Mickey just stands by the door checking ID's, other days he standing in the back where the 'private dancing' section is - making sure the dancers are safe from any pervert who goes in there, and somedays Mickey is left on babysitting duty. New dancers come and go from the joint all the time, sometimes Mickey's job is to stand by the stage and make sure no one unwanted goes up there while she's performing. This rule usually refferring to brothers, and dads and sometimes even boyfriends who don't like the fact that their daughter, sister of girlfriends are up there showing off their cooter for money. The pervs in here know better than to fuck with the dancers, most of them are regulars. If they don't fear the pepperspray the dancers and waitresses keep with them- then they'll definitaley fear Mickey Milkovich.

"Yo Mick. New Dancer, she's up next. You know what to do" The manager pointed in the direction of the stage. Mickey knew his manager was a scum-bag, he dressed like one and even sounded like one with his New York accent. He had a distaste for the guy, but he paid him extra for the good work he'd been doing with keeping everyone in his bar in line, so Mickey always just swallowed the distaste for him. A job's a job right?

Mickey stood by the stage, when he heard the feedback of the clubs crappy microphone come on. "Alright you horny fucks..." The announcer said jokingly to the crowd who cheered. It was getting louder in the club, a little more than it usually does when there is a new dancer on stage. " Please welcome, new to the stage... Penny-Lane" The crowd lost it, men were standing up and had their dollar bills ready when Def Leopards "Pour some sugar on me" started playing. Thats quite the name Mickey thought to himself as he stood staring at the crowd, making sure no one was getting to rowdy. Strippers never use their real names, they usually always use a variation of their first names, or come up with a brand new name that sounds sexy when it rolls off the tongue- like Dixie, or Lexxi, and in this case- Penny-Lane.

The crowd seemed a lot more crazier tonight, the dancer must be hot; but Mickey had no interest in the Dancers here. Not because they were women, but because even if he was attracted to women- the women here are strung out on something and he doesnt find beauty in sunken cheeks and wrinkled skin; especially when they're only in their 20's. Mickey rarely ever looked at the stage. When he did, it was usually because he had to deal with some drunk asshole trying to get on it.

Mickey had no interest of who was on-stage, but with the crowd getting crazier he had to be able to keep an eye on the dancer and the pervs. When Mickey looked up to see where on stage she was, he couldnt help but notice alarming. Penny-Lane was attractive alright, no doubt about it; but thats not what he noticed. Once he confirmed his suspicions he was the one to run on the stage grab the dancer by the arm and lead her away.

"What the fuck!" Shouted the crowd who were obviously disappointed.

"Yeah what the fuck!" She said as she turned around to clock Mickey right in the face.
Mickey let out a little laugh at the girl.

"Even after all this time, you still hit like a bitch Mandy" ...

...

"You think this is going to make everything better?" Mandy growled at Mickey as he was packing up his things in a worn out duffle-bag. "You're just going to leave?" Mandy was getting impatient, waiting for Mickey to respond. "Listen fuck face, I don't care what you do anymore- but just because you finally came to the realization that life's a bitch, that's no excuse for you to give everything up" Mandy stormed out of the room frustrated. Her brother was being an idiot, and for no good reason. Maybe the reason was that he had always been an idiot, and that he never would come to his senses. What a fucking moron, she would always think to herself. He got married thinking the kid was actually his, and now that he figures out it's not, he no longer has a reason to be here. With his marriage in the trash and no baby to worry about Mickey didn't have a reason to stay. However, Mandy could never hate her brother for leaving; in fact she was more jealous and angry that he wouldn't take her with him. She was stuck here in Chicago with nothing anymore. Lip had just broken up with her, her best friend was gone and now her brother was leaving to god knows where. All Mandy had left was her father, her stomach churned in an unnatural way thinking about being alone with him.

Mandy followed Mickey to the front where the car had been parked. She watched him dump the duffle-bag in the trunk and slam it shut. She watched as he lit one last cigarette and she felt tears coming up to her eyes. She wanted him to stay, if not for her; then for him- her gay best friend who Mickey was in love with. Before Mickey got into the car, she grabbed him and gave him one last hug. She knew this was it, she knew by the determination and the stubbornness of her brother that he was going to be gone; maybe not for good, but for a good while. "He's going to be back you know…" She whispered in his ear while still managing to keep her arms wrapped around his neck. "So I hope you will be too" With that she let go.

She watched as her brother drove off alone, and she felt something tear away from her. She felt her chest close up, her body tense, and her face moistened from the tears rolling down them. She felt numb, and in pain at the same time. She felt something clench inside her, and she realized that the spot where her heart used to be felt empty. Mandy felt empty.

Mandy stared directly into Mickeys eyes, and never left them for a moment; even when Mickey was pulling her off stage and into the back. She stared at him with disbelief, as if she was staring at a ghost. She watched as he grabbed a robe hanging on the coat rack and handed it to her, without looking. It was bad enough that he seen that much of her, he didn't want to see more than he already had.

"Go put some fucking clothes on" he said while looking away. This was his little sister for Christ sakes, what the hell was she thinking doing this. "You're fucking coming with me" Even looking away he could tell that she was in the midst of crying and smiling, both at the same time. "Hurry the fuck up!" He was getting annoyed, this was his place of work- what gave her the right to come here and fuck his shit up? "Ill go pull the car around meet me out back in 5" He heard her run to the dressing room, when he heard the door to the dressing room open, he knew it was safe to finally turn around.

When he opened the dividing curtain from the backstage to the bar he noticed another dancer on stage who took Mandy's place. What was she doing in a place like this anyways? She never was much of a thinker, who knows what kind of perverts, creeps and scumbags she was dealing with... Speaking of scumbags Mickey thought to himself as he watched the Manager of the club approach him, followed by one of the other bouncers.

"You tryin' to fuck up my business Mick?" Mickey couldn't help but laugh at the guy, who truly failed at being intimidating. "You fuck with me Mick, I'll fuck with you" He walked forward until he was two inches away from Mickeys face. "You go get that dancer, get her back on stage and get your ass back to work" Mickey didn't respond, he just stared at the guy waiting. Waiting for him to set him off enough to lay him out in front of everybody at the club. Waiting for him to take one step closer into Mickeys face.

"No way in hell she's going back up there. Get one of your other cracked out sluts to do her job. She's coming with me" There will be no fight today, Mickey thought as he pushed his way around the scumbag manager.

"Think again Mick" Mickey turned around to face him. The Manager lit a cigarette, trying to be suave about the whole thing; as if he was trying to look as if he were part of the mafia "You see Mick, I could get another slut out there, but you and I both know that not one of my girls look like that. I own them, and I own you." Mickey felt his face get red and he almost lost it, but he kept his cool- waiting, still waiting for the right moment to teach this asshole a lesson or two.

Just then the manager nodded his head as if it were a signal for the bouncer in the back to do something. Mickey waited to see how the rest of this scene played out. He felt his fists clench and his face burn. He was ready to pounce on this fucker at any minute. It wasn't until he seen the bouncer come out forcing Mandy from the back, watching her kick and punch the guy that he had finally lost it. It was ready to teach these assholes a lesson.

Lesson One: Nobody owns Mickey Milkovich.

Lesson Two: Never fuck with his family.