There's a light in you
and it makes me never fear
the darkness in me.
"Once again, late," Gus was gruff as Anzu pushed her way through the heavy doors.
"Sorry, I'm just exhausted. I didn't-
"Do I look like I care? Do I Anzu?" Gus scolded.
Anzu let out a heavy exhale and ran up the stairs to the bar. Her black haired friend was waiting for her, leaning against the bar, almost for support. Anzu could tell something was wrong almost immediately.
"What's up?"
Andy looked away from her for a moment, chewing on her stubby nails.
"Gus wants me to be a dancer," she said flatly.
Anzu was still for a moment before she erupted, flying to her friend's side, "ANDY! What the hell?
"It's better money," she said hollowly. Anzu snapped her fingers in front of her friend's face, "Talk to him."
"I agreed to it. I need the money," Andy sighed.
Anzu stepped back from her friend. "It will be alright. It's only a few nights a week and I'll be here. I'll break any guys neck who tries to hurt you."
Anzu knew where that last line came from. Joey. He used to say that to her. My brother. Best friend.
Andy chuckled and stepped forward, folding herself into the brunette's open arms.
"Thanks Anz," she whispered.
"OI, ANDY! ON STAGE OR IN THE CAGE!"
Andy rolled her eyes as Anzu planted a quick kiss on her cheek, "I'll be here." She watched her friend trudge slowly towards the stage.
Anzu went to work quickly, stocking the bar and counting glasses; wiping each with a clean cloth. Her mind was elsewhere. Bakura. They had been at the museum all day. He had been strangely quiet, only insulting her when she "spoke out of turn" or asked an "ignorant" question. There was something mysterious about him in the way he disappeared and reappeared in her life. Where did he live?
"Anzu, you and Tara have the bar tonight. Play well with others," Gus broke her thoughts with his accented voice. She nodded and offered a friendly smile to the scared girl next to her.
"First night?"
The pretty blonde girl nodded. Anzu smiled and patted her arm reassuringly, "You'll be fine. It's only a couple of hours."
The night started off well. It was familiar. The sound of laughter and drinks splashing on the counter. The music was upbeat and catchy. Anzu caught herself numerous times moving her body to the music that coursed through her. Once in a while, she would steal a sympathetic glance at Andy who was on stage for most of the night, grinding and twirling with such expertise that Anzu thought she must have been a dancer. I was a dancer. She remembered her pink ballet slippers- a gift from her mother. The way they felt on her feet. One. Two. Three. The steps- bend and twirl and step, legs extended, on your toes. One. Two. Three. Three. Two. One. Land gracefully, toes pointed.
She smiled at the memories.
"Anzu, pep it up," Gus said from behind her, causing Anzu to jump, nearly breaking a martini glass.
Gus was standing there, smoking a cigarette inside the bar, and looking rather perturbed, "Really Anzu. Now, make them beg for it."
Anzu plastered on a sarcastic smile and did an exaggerated bow, before she began rolling her hips to the beat. The tempo increased. She felt sick, running a hand down her chest.
One man caught her eye, "Hello, pretty girl. Care for a chat? Whiskey please if you don't mind."
She winked at him, "I'll be right with you."
Gus nodded approvingly, "That's what I'm paying you to do."
The man handed her a tip with his drink. Anzu winked again in response, putting her lipsticked lips to the napkin coaster before laying it down in front if him.
Something broke inside of her, and yet she didn't feel the urge to cry. It had been coming for quite some time now. The urge to rebel and the willpower that had defined her for so long had faded. Her eyes were a dead ocean; no longer was there a spark of blue flame. She danced as she poured drinks, flirting openly but never giving too much away. There was still a shred of her dignity left.
Across the bar, Bakura watched her. A small smirk tugging at his lips. His eyes trailed down her body. A full bosom, soft peach skin and those lips. Bakura could think of a few places where he would want them. There was no hurt in looking and after all there was some pleasure in being human. Some pleasures he had been denied to for so long.
She was an attractive slut. One that he could break easily, with some well placed words. His handsome face shifted into a menacing grin. He called over the portly man from the corner of the room who strode over eagerly.
With a wicked chuckle, Bakura leaned in and whispered something in the man's ear.
Anzu was in the middle of a conversation with two men at the bar when Gus walked up to her.
"A man has asked for you," he said quietly, "That one in the corner. You two have a thing? You're his favorite, it seems."
Anzu's heart sank, but she calmly put her hair behind her ears and pulled her short red tank top up over the tops of her breasts, before Gus pulled it back down.
"Leave it."
She sighed and walked over to where Gus had pointed.
"Hello Bakura," she spit out, "It's lovely to see you here tonight. What can I get you?
He leaned back, arms at the back of his head, "Oh you are here to serve me? How wonderful."
"I'm not here to serve you anything, asshole." She turned on her heel, but the white haired man reached out and grabbed her. He had the reflexes of a cat.
"Not so fast, girl. It's not a drink I want." He released her and lit a cigarette.
"You have to go downstairs to do that."
He blew smoke in her face causing her to choke on the fumes.
She turned and stalked off but Bakura was out of his seat in a minute, following her.
"Get away fro-
Before she could finish he had pressed her against a wall. The smell of expensive cologne, spice and cigarettes filled her nostrils.
"B-Bakura."
The white haired man was inches from her lips, one hand wrapped around her wrist and the other around her neck. His weight was thrown against her, pinning her so that she couldn't move.
"Get off," she squeaked. Not very convincing.
"What a nasty little slut you are. I watched you. You like the attention you get from men," his knee slid dangerously up her thigh. She wanted to scream.
"Hush now little whore. You wouldn't want to lose a job. This is your job isn't it?"
Anzu was frozen. Her mind for an instant fought to resist but her willpower had been broken. Bakura was truly here to stay, and the more she fought, the more exhausted she would become.
Don't give up. The Pharaoh's voice was clear in her mind. She closed her eyes.
"What's wrong slut?" Bakura's nasty voice brought her back.
"You will never know where he is. Even if I find out, I'll never tell you. You will have to kill me."
Bakura's face grew darker and the smirk on his lips become colder.
"I can't kill you just yet," he growled, pressing himself harder against her. She whined as his mouth collided with her neck, biting roughly.
"You taste delicious, my dear," he said, pulling back only slightly so his hot breath fanned against her neck.
"Fuck off, Bakura," she gasped. His knee slid up further until it was firmly on her womanhood, kneading in slow, agonizing circles.
She clawed at his shoulders, trying to get away, but her conflicting emotions held her in place.
He attacked her neck again, nibbling until he reached her earlobe, sliding a wet tongue up against it.
"Such a little weak whore."
She gasped as he ground his knee harder into her, one had holding her neck in place, the other wrapped around her waist.
She was trapped. A whimpering mess of pathetic. He bit down on her collarbone, running a tongue across it.
"You are like a fine desert, my dear," he chuckled against her chest.
She summoned all her strength and with one push and a grunt, she pushed him off, running back to the bar.
"Anzu?," the new girl Tara asked her, "Your neck."
Anzu who was fuming with mixed emotions- one being anger, immediately touched her neck, "Is it bad?"
"Who did that to you?"
She turned around, half expecting to see the gnash of canines and the blood eyes. Bakura was no where to be found.
"No one. I'm going to take five."
Tara nodded.
Anzu grabbed her coat and walked out onto the street. It was cold and lightly raining. The lights of London twinkled before her. They looked warm and beckoning. Anzu let them fall. The tears she had been holding back for months. She cried silently for the life she had left behind and the friends who had forsaken her. She cried for the loss of hope and the loss of a dream.
She felt his presence without even having to look up.
"You," she whispered angrily.
"Me," came the simple reply.
"Why did you do this to me? Why all the torture?"
A chuckle in reply.
"YOU BASTARD!" she turned around, fist clenched. He caught her hand before it hit his face, and held it staring down at her.
"You ruined MY LIFE."
"There wasn't anything left to ruin," he said with a smirk, "Your life is a shit hole. Your friends are gone- dead to you. Your love life is in shambles. You are alone and that is what we have in common."
"We have nothing in common."
Her voice was a dull, former shell of what it used to be. He looked at her carefully. Her cheeks were dusted pink and her eyes were haunted and tired. Vulnerable. Perfect. Easy to break.
"Just stay out of my life Bakura."
"You sound like someone very familiar to me."
She looked up, "Who?"
"Ryou," he said through his grinning teeth.
"How did he ever put up with you? You tortured him."
"I protected him."
"So you cared about him?"
"Of course not," Bakura snorted, "He was my light; I had to protect him. He was worthless and pathetic but he was still half of me and my only means of transportation."
"You stood up for him that time. You took the blow that would have been meant for him...that Yami delivered in that duel with Malik."
"I can't have my body die. Not without my goals attained."
Anzu tsked, "You know being human comes with a set of emotions or have you forgotten what being human was like?"
Bakura didn't answer. She stole a glance. His face was passive as he inhaled the smoke, almost as if he hadn't heard her. Even when he was tainted with Zorc, Bakura was too quirkly human, Anzu decided. He wasn't all monster and yet he wasn't all man.
Anzu decided to ask the question that had kept her wondering for so long. It was a loaded question and one she was frankly scared to ask. She felt her breath catch as she opened her mouth...
"What happened to you back then? In the Memory Arc?"
Bakura stiffened.
"Do you not remember?"
The look that washed over Bakura's face astonished Anzu. It was one of mixed emotion and frustration. Anzu wasn't even aware Bakura had more to his personality than sarcasm and evil.
"Never. Ask. Questions," his voice was ragged, "Get inside to your job, slut."
Anzu grumbled, but turned inside, half miffed and half curious. What had happened to him? What had Atem done?
