Ok. Another Chapter done. Because I'm feeling that way, an extra disclaimer:
I don't own FFX. I only twist the FFX characters into something strange for fun. I don't
make money on this. I also don't have anything to do with 54, Steve Rubell, the music industry, any star mentioned in this fic, or any car, motorcycle, or weapons manufacturer.
I think that covers all of it. Sorry if I forgot something.
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Auron wasn't much for dancing. In fact, though he came to 54 at least five nights out of the week, he'd only danced a handful of times. It wasn't his thing. Dancing was a means to get a hot chick pressed up against him long enough to bang her in the balcony, shag her in the bathroom stall, or take her home and fuck her brains out. And, though it was fun as far as it went, that kind of thing got old after a while. Since he led a rather complicated and dangerous life, he tended to keep from forming attachments to people where he'd have to explain himself and what he really did. It made for a lot of lonely nights filled with memories of the days before he went off to Nam and got his innocence ripped all to hell.
It was a shitload easier to drink, fuck, and party than to sit at home alone with memories.
So, when Freddie made up his mind to hit the dance floor, Auron was torn. On the one hand, it would get him out of the booth and upstairs where he could slide away to a pay phone and call Jecht. On the other hand, he was probably going to have to do the bump and grind on the dance floor with Freddie Mercury.
Man, I like this guy! I just don't swing that way. Jecht's gotta get me outa this.
Auron really did like Freddie. He was a hell of a guy. As a fan, he admired the man's talent, but in the last hour, he'd actually gotten to know him a little. Mr. Mercury had a wicked sense of humor and was really quite smart. Intrigued by Japanese culture and art, Freddie had been ecstatic to find out Auron was half Japanese and still had extended family back in Hokkaido. Almost amazed, Auron listened as the singer talked about his adoration of lacquer boxes and wood block prints. Freddie wasn't a stuck up, full of himself, star – he was rather self deprecating – though it was obvious that he used to getting his way and he acted more like a opera diva than anything else. His friends were fun people and obviously adored him. For a minute, Auron was almost sad he wasn't gay.
Fidgeting with his cigarette, Freddie sighed and said, "Dear, you have no idea how lucky you are! Your hair! If I had hair as straight as yours I'd never have cut mine…" The singer reached out and twisted a lock from Auron's ponytail around a finger. Freddie was definitely looking for more than casual conversation. The singer's other hand had moved to rest on Auron's thigh about fifteen minutes and two drinks into the chat and never left. It wasn't long before the open gestures, large smile, and laughs became a bit more, well, intimate. Auron had managed, so far, to keep from getting groped but realized it wouldn't be long before a hand was going to slide somewhere and he'd be forced to turn the man down. He really didn't want to do that.
Flat out turning Mr. Mercury down could cause Auron problems. For starters, it might cause a bit of offence and, since Freddie didn't live very far from Jecht and knew a lot of well-placed people who did drugs, it would be a major advantage in more ways than one to try and maintain some kind of connection with the guy. Sure, it sounded a bit harsh, but Auron was a cop and he had a job to do. Aside from Braska, there wasn't a person he knew, even Jecht, which he didn't have an agenda for. Freddie wasn't going to be any different.
Then, there was Rubell.
Rubell wanted his stars happy. He wanted them drunk, sexed up, drugged up, hot, sweaty, danced out, and euphoric. If it got back to Rubell that he'd made someone like Freddie unhappy – well, it wouldn't go over well. Auron made a lot of contacts in 54. By being one of the three major dealers that cruised the club, he got to go anywhere in the place and met everyone. It made his other work damn easy. So, pissing off Rubell and getting banned from the club was not on Auron's option list.
Sometimes I fuckin hate my work.
With a smile on his face, Auron shrugged and said, "Why not," when Freddie suggested the group head upstairs to dance. The singer, buzzing on alcohol, wrapped an arm around Auron's shoulders as they teetered their way from the dungeon and down the dark hallways. Trying to act casual without seeming overly friendly, Auron helped the guy out as they headed up the narrow stairwell. He made sure Freddie went first, so there was no chance for wandering hands to land on his ass.
Bass reverberated through the club as the group cleared the stairwell and headed out into the throng. Freddie clapped his hands together in delight as a recorded thunderclap sounded and glitter was released from the ceiling onto the dancing bodies below – simulating a rainstorm. Strobes flashed in time with the music on columns that descended from the ceiling. Richie Kaczor was spinning the boards and the floor was packed. "Get Up and Boogie" by Silver Connection got blended into "Lady Marmalade" and Patti LaBelle ripped it out as Freddie, Thor, Jim, Jaqui, and Auron pushed their way into the throng. Thor on one side and Auron on the other, Freddie got crushed between and grinned. Everyone was having a great time.
Lucky for Auron, Mr. Mercury was having so much fun looking at the amazing diversity of people and various states of undress that he didn't spend much time focused on any one thing. Three songs went by pretty quickly and Auron figured it was a good time to make an escape.
Leaning in to put his lips near Freddie's ear he shouted, "Hey, man. I'm headed to the john. Be right back." Thor, pressed to Freddie's back in imitation of a pair of spoons, nodded in synchronization with his friend – indicating that both heard him. Jaqui was busy being groped by a man wearing a pair of gold lame Speedos and could have cared less what Auron did. Jim had managed to loose himself.
Auron made a line for the restrooms then switched direction and headed for the pay phone. He looked at his watch.
Shit. Jecht's gonna fuckin kill me. It's after midnight.
Picking up the receiver, Auron dropped in the change and dialed. The phone rang a while before a clattering noise occurred. The voice on the other end was barely coherent.
"Yeah?" Jecht grunted.
"Jecht. I need a favor."
"Auron? What the fuck?" The voice lost a bit of sleep and gained some lucidity. Auron could almost see Jecht check the clock before the next sentence came through the receiver. "It's almost one in the goddamn morning! Did Tidus do something? I'm gonna kick that kid's fucking ass all the way to…"
Interrupting, Auron saved Tidus from getting beat within an inch of his life. "Jecht, shut the fuck up and listen. I need you to help me. I'm in a jam. You gotta bail me out."
"What's goin' on?"
There was no way Auron was going to explain the situation on the phone, much less his plan for dealing with it. "Just come down to 54 and pick me up."
Jecht's response was expected. "Take a goddamn cab! I've got practice at nine, you SOB."
Auron rolled his eyes. He'd expected this. "Just fuckin' do it, Jecht." He paused. There was no response so he changed his tone and said the magic word. "PLEASE. I really need your help."
The exasperated sigh that came through the phone was confirmation that Auron would get his way. "I haveta get dressed," Jecht stated. It was followed quickly by a harsh, "You owe me, prick."
Smiling, Auron replied, "Yeah. Well, we'll talk about payment when you get here, asshole. I'll be down in the dungeon."
They hung up.
