The Crooked Knife
By CKBarGuy and BrownEyedBluez
We don't own Twilight and neither do you. Unless you are Stephenie… *waving*
Chapter 25
Friday, January 7, 2011 pm
I fucking hate Brooklyn.
I haven't seen all of it, not even more than a good couple of square miles, but if what I saw was any indication – Brooklyn is a waste of concrete.
I got an email yesterday for an audition to play at a club. Nightclubs are usually pretty good gigs – there's always a stream of customers, and the regulars will mean the work is steady. Tip jars are a plus.
The audition was for 3:30. I left early since I had no idea how long it would actually take to get there, which was good, because my stop was still eight blocks from the place. With every block I walked, I worried more and more about having to come back through here at night when I would be getting off of work. Still, I had committed to the audition, and from experience in NOLA, I know a neighborhood can turn from iffy to upscale in a block.
Apparently, none of these was one of those blocks.
The club is called Pumps, which really should have been a clue, but somehow in my head, I was thinking it might have been a former firehouse. It wasn't. I walked in, expecting the usual disgruntled atmosphere of a bar at midday: not quite awake yet, but starting to anticipate the buzz of the night to come. Instead, I was assaulted by the sight of a girl in some tiny strips of black material, hanging upside down from a pole, mid-show. Lights were flashing and some electronic dance track was pulsing at heart-jarring levels through an incredibly crappy sound system.
A bouncer came over and I told him I was here for the audition, so he took me to an office in the back to meet the owner, Sal. Sal gave me a look and actually licked his lips. I nearly threw up right then, but I managed to hold it together. He said he wanted to ditch the sound system he had and have the girls dance to live music instead, and did I think I could handle that. I told him I could play anything he gave me. He did the lip-licking thing again and got up. He took me into a sort of storage room where the piano was. That was the saddest, most beat up instrument I've ever seen. When I tried to play it, I wanted to shoot it to put us both out of its misery. Who knows the last time it was tuned, if ever, and almost every third key didn't strike. I told Sal the piano would need to be fixed to be playable and he just shrugged. Then he said nobody would notice how bad the piano sounded because they'd be looking at me anyway.
My stomach was already in my throat, but that made it drop into my boots. I asked what he meant and he called out the door to the bouncer. He came in with a woman who took one look at me and told Sal that with my coloring, he should put me in a black leather bikini. She commented that the boots I had on were perfect, especially if I were to occasionally throw my leg up and bang on the piano with my heel.
That's when I told them I appreciated their time, but this job was not what I was looking for. The woman said I could wear red lace instead if I wanted, but I was already heading back up the hall. I threw one last look at the girl on the pole as I went out the door. She waved, but from the position she was in, I couldn't even tell which hand she used.
I practically ran those eight blocks back to my stop. I only paused long enough to send Edward a tweet that I was on my way to CK and to please have a tall strong drink waiting. My feet are killing me. I feel like I need about three scalding showers and a Brillo pad to get the seediness off of me, but I need to see him even more. I can't wait to get there and tonight I'm going to try to sit at the bar. If it's full, then I'm going to shove somebody off the couch if I have to, because from there I can see behind the bar, and that's the best view in the house.
7 January 2011 P.M.
School went. It was long and tedious and I was unable to focus on half of what my professor was discussing. Instead, I was checking my phone for anything from Bella.
She had tweeted and said she was going out to Brooklyn for an audition; even though I wanted her to be able to find employment, Brooklyn was not a location I was thrilled about. It would eat into any of our time, with going back and forth. I still had hopes for her to find something in the city, something where maybe I could go and watch her work and then offer to walk her home.
I hadn't heard anything from her, until I got a tweet while I was at work stating that she was coming to the pub, and she needed a tall and strong drink. I took it that the audition was a bust.
Knowing that she was coming, I kept an eye out for her. I saw her immediately when she walked in. Her hair was down and cascading over her shoulders, she was in another pair of tight arse jeans and a white blouse that clung to all the right parts. Then I looked down and there they were taunting me: those come and fuck me boots.
I swear I'm buying her a pair of Nikes or Chucks or something. I'll have to find out when her birthday is, and soon!
She was still adamant about sitting on that fucking couch again. Maybe she was sitting there so Jazz or Em didn't find out about our chatting. This is the only thing I can think of, but she is so much more complex. I'm probably so wrong.
I tweeted her and told her to get her coat promptly at 10: I was out of here. I was extremely pleased she had waited for me to get off tonight. I had plans of walking her home, and now it was all working out.
I met her outside the door and helped her up the steps leading to the sidewalk. I leaned down and told her to jump up on my back. Her answer was to swat me and call me a pervert. I remained in the same position for a few minutes until she finally realized I wasn't going to budge. She caught me a bit off guard when she did jump and I stumbled a bit, but was quickly able to steady myself.
WTF was I thinking. If just holding her hand sent jolts of electricity through my body, having her on my back was like shock therapy.
She directed me towards her flat and to say it is close to The CK is an understatement. It took me all of 5 minutes to walk us there. If I would have known she lived this close, I would have taken the long way around. Maybe walked up to Central Park and back.
She kept wiggling and giggling as I tried desperately not to drop her. I knew I could take her with no worries, I just didn't expect her to tickle my ribs and breathe down my neck like she did. My hands were holding onto the inside of her thighs tightly, maybe a bit too tightly. I do hope she doesn't bruise easily.
I arrived at her flat with her unscathed. Me, well, I could take care of matters later.
Or just think of home, tea and crumpets, rugby, polo, football, formula one, or Emmett. Yes, Emmett would defiantly work for my situation.
We stood on her stoop and chatted for a bit, but then we were at the awkward moment where I wanted nothing more than to kiss her, but I couldn't do it, not yet. Bella was here living with a friend, with no job. What if she was to decide this move isn't what she wants, and up and moves back to NOLA? She would take what's left of my heart with her if I kissed her, and I wasn't prepared for that to happen. Not yet, because until I can talk to Jazz, and Bella for that matter, about my secrets, I'm not ready to put myself out there.
I don't want to have this hole in my heart; Bella deserves so much more, more than the man that I am right now.
I made it back home and chatted with Bella until she caused me to be in desperate need of a shower.
The plus of the evening was my coat now smells of heaven.
Fags smoked: 4
Fags allotted: 5
Telling Jazz tomorrow about Tanya. I just can't hide it anymore. Spring will be here before I know it. FML!
Clothes I'm buying for Bella's birthday: House dress something like Gran used to wear, Nikes, leggings, and large overcoat. Then she can come sit in the pub without me worrying about her with all the drunk blokes...