Prompt:
69. "I know this song."
cynosure
/ˈsʌɪnəʃʊə,ˈsɪnəʃʊə,ˈsʌɪnəzjʊə,ˈsɪnəzjʊə/
noun
1. a person or a thing that is the centre of attention or admiration.
Chapter 4: Cynosure
Saturday nights are always the busiest in the club, and Hugo Reyes knows that better than almost anyone. Even if he's the newest employee in the club, he's aware how fast his hands need to work in order to successfully serve everyone during the evening.
People are breezing in from all over town, eager to escape their monotonous everyday lives and leave their inhibitions behind. And last but not least, to catch a glimpse of the infamous owner of Lux, Lucifer Morningstar.
Not that it would be that difficult of a job, considering he spends almost every night down in the club, gracing the dance floor with his presence. Once in a while, he pops into the role of the entertainer and hypnotizes the crowd with his exceptional musical skills, and sometimes he just simply wants to loosen up and mingle with people. But even then, not everyone can enjoy and hold his attention for a long time.
Except for the Detective.
Who apparently decided to drop by.
Hugo's hands are already holding the right ingredients to prepare her favorite drink, but when he sees her steps falter slightly and her hands reach out to balance herself against the wall, his movement stills and he puts down the shaker. Looks like the detective already had a Manhattan. And quite a few of it it seems.
It's not like the Boss has a rule to stop serving alcohol to the heavily inebriated patrons, but the detective is a lightweight (or so he has been informed) and he's sure Mr. Morningstar wouldn't be happy with him if she comes down with alcohol poisoning.
She stumbles to the bar and plops down on one of the stools in front of him, greeting him with a lazy smile before looking over her shoulder, squinting at the dance floor, no doubt trying to locate his boss among the many people moving their bodies to the beat of the music.
Mr. Morningstar spots her before she sees him in one of the booths near the entrance, sandwiched between two scantily clad women who seem rather unhappy that his attention shifted away from them all of a sudden, ignoring their advances in favor of training his eyes on Ms. Decker.
"Detective!" he greets her, shouting over the loud music, lips pulling into a joyful smile and glee sparkling in his eyes.
It always amazes Hugo how spectacularly his demeanor changes when said detective swims into his sight - from fake smiles that don't quite reach his eyes to full-on white teeth grin.
True happiness, as they say.
Mr. Morningstar weaves his way through the swaying bodies that try to accost him, men and women are drawn to him like a moth to a flame, hands reach after him as he passes by them. But he gives them no mind like he usually does when Ms. Decker is here and Hugo suppresses a knowing smile.
"To what do I owe this pleasure, Detective?" he asks when he reaches her by the bar, gesturing to Hugo for another drink. The bartender turns away to prepare his favorite, though he continues to pay attention to the pair.
"Girls' night out," she replies, her words slightly slurred. "But Maze had a bounty to catch and Linda and Ella exhausted themselves with endless karaoke songs and I had a few cocktails and I just…" she rambles on.
"Didn't want the party to end? You've certainly come to the right place." Hugo catches his grin as he hands the boss his drink.
"Oh, I know. Apparently, you throw the best parties. I guess I wanted to see what the fuss is about," she teases, her eyes skimming over the crowded nightclub.
"Ooh, did you know?" Mr. Morningstar quickly hides his stunned expression, replacing it with an impressed one as he looks the detective over with a raised brow. "I'm really enjoying this side of you, Detective! You should let loose more often, it suits you," he beams at her and downs the rest of his Bourbon.
The detective only smiles, and Hugo swears he can see a slight blush gracing her cheeks. He averts his eyes and turns to a red-head on the other side of the bar who orders a Cosmopolitan. He's happy for the interruption because he feels, for some reason, that he's intruding on a very intimate moment.
"I know this song!" he suddenly hears Ms. Decker exclaiming loudly, the excitement in her high-pitched voice is evident as The Bangles starts blaring from the massive speakers.
Which is quite odd, because the Boss usually doesn't let the appointed DJ play anything from the past millennium. The only times Hugo actually hears any classical or retro music is if Mr. Morningstar is playing them himself on the piano. It's kind of the only rule they have at Lux.
(And that they must treat Det. Chloe Jane Decker with the utmost respect. Hugo is sure it's even written in their employment contract somewhere.)
Hugo turns to the pair just in time to see the detective hop off the bar stool and the Boss steadying her by the arms as she slightly loses balance upon landing. Mr. Morningstar gives her a satisfied grin as her eyes sparkle with elation.
Hugo guesses it's probably one of her favorite songs.
She grabs Mr. Morningstar's shirt sleeves and practically drags him to the dance floor, excited bounce in her steps. His boss seems all too happy to be led by her, though.
When they arrive at her desired spot, she lets go of his arm and starts swaying her body to the music, singing the lyrics into the warm air of the club. Her moves can't exactly be called graceful and she's quite overdressed in her black spaghetti strap tank top and skinny jeans, not to mention that her singing is rather off-pitch, but still, Mr. Morningstar is gazing at her as if she just hang the moon and all of the stars known to mankind.
When the Boss eventually rouses from his momentary stupor, he takes her hand and gently yanks her to him, his other arm going over her waist, their bodies flush against one another as they continue to move to the beat. The detective seemingly doesn't mind the sudden proximity, her mouth pulls into a huge grin, letting out a guffaw as they bounce together to the refrain.
A little crowd has accumulated around them, some of the patrons regarding the pair with an amused smile on their faces, some of them (especially the ladies) are giving the detective daggers with their eyes, jealousy and frustration are their main setting whenever the Boss is ignoring them in favor of entertaining Ms. Decker.
He truly only has eyes for her.
They would really make a cute couple, Hugo thinks.
As another nineties jam comes on and the two carry on with their carefree dancing, the bar is starting to queue up and Hugo has to use those special bartender skills to serve everyone with precision and as fast as possible. His boss is maybe easy-going and probably the best employer he ever had, but he still expects professionalism from his employees, and gawking at him and his love interest probably doesn't count as such.
When he eventually turns back to the dance floor, he can no longer detect Mr. Morningstar and the Detective among the crowd. The DJ is back on with brand new hit songs and the woo girls have taken over the club again. He finally spots the two near the entrance, Ms. Decker is wearing the Boss' suit jacket, her arm looped over his as they make their way outside.
He returns much, much later, just after the last of the hardcore party people are breezing out into the dawn. The boss gives them no mind as he glides up the stairs with his jacket slung over his shoulder and a somewhat serene look on his face. He gets into the elevator leading up to his penthouse and disappears as the doors close in front of him.
Hugo feels a finger tap his shoulder from behind.
"You owe me twenty bucks," Partick, one of the bouncers informs him with a smirk.
Hugo sighs and reaches into his pocket, handing his bet partner the bills with a frown.
Damn.
"Told you the Boss doesn't sleep with anyone if the Detective drops by," he pats Hugo on the shoulder in a slightly derogatory manner. "You're just new. Don't worry, you'll get it, eventually."
Hugo shakes his head and watches as a portion of his hard-earned tips walks away.
Eventually, he will get it.
