: A/N: THIS chapter was inspired by my mood to dance to Tool. How would one dance to Tool? It's called HardCore. Here, I'll give you a quick lesson.
1.) Think you are Indy or Emo. Maybe even hardcore, if you think you can add up to that.
2.) You MUST have a strange haircut.
3.) Just to be authentic, bust out with your Fall Out Boy messenger. C'mon. I know you have one, too.
4.) Now . . . the hard part. Throw yourself into a large crowd of swarming sweaty people, whom you've NEVER met. Prepare to be groped and slapped, then FLAIL your arms and legs around like you have mother-fudging ants in your pants. Yes. I said it. Ants in the pants. Flail those limps you hardcore Bumpkin.
There. Now you're hardcore. How do you feel? I couldn't really give a great lesson, I scraped my knee the other day really bad while I was skateboarding, then gave myself a concrete facial. Now I'm softcore. But it's all rad, peacethefuck. :3
Oh . . . Yeah . . . the story . . . Back to that. -cough- :
Dead To The World
Chapter four:
The room was a ton of bricks quieter from the other. In fact it was like walking into a cage filled with a circus orchestra and wild animals, then going into a dim-lighted migraine-resolving talk room. The walls were a dark rich red maybe even hinting to a dark purple, the kind that you just knew they didn't sell at Lowe's. The ceiling was high, and thankfully, had no smoke. And from what I could tell were black. The tile was the same, black. There were leather couches against every wall, but what was interesting was that when you looked closly, it was like a trail railing, only made of expensive couches. There was a small bar to the left of the door, which was quiet. Having every seat filled, but there weren't people jumping over one another for alchol.
To your right was a wide and lengthy area where the couches came together to form a much large couch in the center. People were splashed here and there, not crowding but more like just falling down every other seat. The largest couch that looked like the center piece of the room actually had something that resembled a headboard. And if you looked close enough it wasn't leather at all, but honest-to-God cherry wood. It had carved emblums and languages that I couldn't read. Interesting. I knew Spanish, French, Latin, and German, but this was none and neither. I touched one of the leather seats when we walked by to notice that it wasn't leather at all, but fur. Not really animal fur but short almost cut real fur. My God, that must have been expensive for all of this! I gaped at it in amazement.
My expression must have been obvious because he said, "The boss likes it fancy." He said with a wink. I looked at him for a moment realizing he was talking to me, who else Shurlock? I smiled up at him.
"The boss?" He winked down at me, now realizing he must have been at least 6 foot.
"The mate who owns the lot." I blinked for a moment than laughed softly. "Oh alright." I rolled my eyes and tapped my temple. "Sorry." I said with a light-hearted smile. He laughed, patting my hand where it hung from his forearm. He tapped his temple when he said, "May I assure you, I am but the slowest of slow." I giggled softly, looking down at where my arm layed with his. My slightly tanned arm against his very paler. Noticing the sharp contrast of colors, even in the very, may I say very, dim light.
"Would you like to stay in here, or go to the next room. Would you like me to accompany you?" He asked, I looked at him through amused eyes, finding he was seroius my smile dropped quickly. Oh. Shit.
"There's another?" He nodded, the same serious look on his face. "The next is where I work." I blinked up at him, politely curious. "You work here?" He smiled down at me, nodding. Guiding me across the room, now finding it was much much larger than I had originally estimated. "What do you do?" I asked as he pushed through another leather do, leaving the quiet and quiant talk room to open to a more brighter one. He scratched his head, almost looking nervous as he pointed. I followed his fingers to the middle of the new room, finding a large black island looking thing, all aquianted with a metal pole.
"Oh Dear." I said softly, looking the pole up and down. "You're a . . ." "Professional dancer." I looked up at him bewildered. "Pro-" "-fessional dancer." He said with another amused smile. I laughed with a half-frown/half-smile.
"Let me explain." He said coughing lightly, balling a fist to cover his mouth. I watched as his eyebrows lifted and fell with the action. Supposing these must be his usual expressions it made me smile. He lead me to a table in the far off corner, it was a quiet room filled with low voices, no bar, but many seats.
"Would you like anything to drink?" I smiled, swallowing the last of my Shmernoff, "Can I get another?" He smiled, taking away my empty bottle, "By all means." He called over a man dressed with in an apron, the man smiled at me and the British man made a growling sound that made me frown. I hated male testosterone.
"Anyways," He said with a frown in the general direction of the scurrying bartender. "I wanted to go to Juliard, as all great ballerinas do." He waited for a few moments, me still looking at him, politely waiting for him to go on while he stared at me. "Oh God." He shook his head and frowned, looking down at his hands.
"Go ahead." He said, looking back at me with tired eyes.
"Do I have something on my face!" I asked, brushing away at my cheeks furiously. He looked at me for a moment before cackling with laughter, I glared at him heatedly.
"I was waiting for you to laugh at me." I had to smile from his amused face, he reminded me of my Father. The kind of person you couldn't help to be around without smiling with him. Finally I lowered my face to the table laughing, with the help of alchol loosening me up.
"Why would I laugh at you?" I asked honestly.
"Because I wanted to be a balerina." He said with a half smile that looked somewhat ashamed and confused all at once. I shook my head, crossing my legs under the table.
"There are many male balerinas, professional at that. What? Do you think those teeny tinny women are lifting eachother? Please." I said with a light giggle. The alchol was really helping. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his hands behind his head.
"No no, I know. Just a lot of women, and men for that matter find the fact I did all of those years in dance school to be a ballerina, quite laughable. It's fuckin' annoying, I tell you." I nodded. I could understand.
"I can understand, I suppose. Dancing is a huge profession, and a very difficult one to stay into. They should respect you, that's alot of work for a dream. Alot of work." I said shaking my head, the bartender came into the room and handed me my drink, looking down at the ground.
"Thank you." I said tilting my head and smiling greatfully. I took out a five and gave it to him, "Keep the change." They both looked at me oddly. The bartender looked from the money to the man, then back to me. I looked at the bartender, then the British guy.
"It is more?" I reached in my tight pocket to pull out my last twenty. They both shook their head saying no over and over. I looked at them strangely.
"You don't pay." I laughed, leaning back in my chair.
"What is it, Saturday's lady night? No, sorry, I don't not pay. Not even with Tommy."
"Tommy Portula?" I looked at the tall bartender nodding. "You know him?" I smiled, laying my hands in my lap out of habit.
"Yes, I went to Middle-school and on with him. We're both very good friends."
"He's gay you know." I looked at him oddly.
"What? Are you homophobic?" I said with a snort/laugh.
"No, not at all." I looked at him strangely, as if he had a third head. What was I supposed to say?
"Um, alright well," I lifted the liquor in a gesture of thanks, but just in case the strange man didn't get it, "Thanks." I said, taking a sip while I watched him shake his head and turn away.
"What's up with him?" I asked still watching him walk away. He didn't say anything for a moment, making me turn towards him. He just kept looking at me, it was making me squirm.
"So what's your name anyways?"
"Lance, you can call me Lance." He said, still looking at me. He wasn't eyeing me or checking me out, not even giving me the once over. Not even the twice over. I looked back at him intently, trying to give him the idea I didn't like being stared at as if I were the strange one.
"What's your name?" He asked with a crooked grin, making me notice the small holes in his cheeks, I squinted leaning across the table. Suddenly he did, too, he even closed his eyes. I studied him closer as he puckered his lips. I smirked, leaning back in my chair to swallow more of my drink. Watching him intently as he waited.
"You had chicken pox when you were a kid, didn't you?" He opened his eyes slowly then wide open, sitting up so suddenly he rocked the table.
"Excuse me," He coughed so loudly he turned heads, my eyes were wide while I tried to figure this odd man or Lance, out. "I thought-" He looked at me while he was in the process of tucking the tag of his shirt back into the shirt. He shook his head, "Excuse me. And yes I did have chickenpox as a child." He touched his chin and cheek were the little holes were.
"They left grotesque scars." I nearly choken with the bottle in my mouth. "Grotesque? Are you kidding me? Everyone has them." I turned to show the little holes at the back base of my neck and dotted around my shoulders. "See?" I said, moving my bottom-length hair from his view. His eyes seem to follow the movement, locking on to my back.
"Nasty little bastards." He said, his voice faraway, I turned back in my chair, this time letting my hair fall to my front.
"No, all kids get them." I said with a giggle, and a tilt of my head as I inspected him.
"A dancer must be perfection." He said with a sigh and a shake of his head. I practically sputtered with laughter. "It's not modeling, Darlin'. It's an art. An art with your body, not your looks. C'mon you should know that." I said, taking another swig of my now half-empty liquor. I had to slow down.
His smile brightened, "Yes, it is. Maybe it's just me." He said softly. His eyes drifted from my eyes to my collar bone, at first I suspected him to be checking me out, until he pointed out, "What's this?" He traced his own collar bone, making me look down at mine.
"Oh." I said, zipping up the rest of the zipper that had accidentally slipped more down. "I was actually in a car accident a week or two ago." I traced the shiny scabbed gash across my chest lightly, remembering the instant. And I almost forgot about him . . .
"A car accident." He said lightly, I nodded slowly as I traced the small scar, looking past him at the dark brown wall frowning.
"Yes, I thought I hit a deer." I said, voice a tad drifting.
"A deer." He said thoughtfully. I nodded again, I didn't really care he was repeating me, the whole night was down the drain now. Oh well, I had that first hour or two with peace. A small smile found the corner of my lips.
"A man found me. Actually." I said, looking down at the marble black table. Marble, how expensive. I laughed to myself. "Sorry, I don't really like thinking about it. I killed the deer." I said with slight amusement.
"What's your name?" He asked suddenly, without looking up I answered.
"Zowie. Zowie Excel." I said, seriously trying to keep my thoughts from drifting to wonderously soft places.
"I would like for you to meet someone, Zowie Excel." He said, rising from the table. He held out his hand while I stared at it.
"Meet someone? I just met you?" I said with an anonomous smile, because I didn't know what else to say or do. He waved his hand a bit with a smile, I waited a moment then slipped mine in his.
"Why not?" I asked myself yet again this night. He smiled down at me while I smiled up at him. He walked to the end of the never-ending black tiled island. Which honest-to-God I couldn't imagine him dancing on. He pushed through another leather door that ended with a short abrupt hallway, tan school tiling, black walls. A typical store-room light flickering. He knocked on a closed, first wooden door I'd seen tonight. A grunt came from inside, as he creeked it open pushing his face through. I couldn't hear what he said, but the man must have agreed because he pulled me through. I hesitated a moment, my senses telling me not to go into the creepy storeroom with a man I didn't know while I was buzzing from two Shmernoff's. But hey, why not?
The room was anything but a storeroom. It had light lavender walls, which were wide and long, baush carpet, white chair railing, and windows. A large man sat behind the desk with long brown hair, and as we stepped closer he was not particularly large, but body-builder muscle. I hated body-builders.
He looked up from his paperwork to give me a fast once-over. I stiffened, Lance felt it and stiffened along with me. He was about to say something with the large amount of breath he took in but was interrupted by the fat man behind the fat desk in the pretty now, fat room. I glared at him when he returned his attentions back to his paperwork. I glared at the man who sat in front of his desk, from what I could see he had a black suit, broad shoulders and black hair; he didn't even bother to turn around. Pricks.
"You have to fill out paperwork to dance here. Only shifts left are for Saturday's, Friday's, and Wednesday nights," He said it as if he'd been saying it all day. "We donot have teases, you will be completely nude. Pays 20 bucks an hour, it's pretty good for a pretty good nude show. You look pretty good. Take it or leave it." I glared at him angrily, biting my lower lip, as I slipped my hand from Lance's hand. I turned swiftly on my 4 inch hooker heels, swaying my hips with all the composure I could muster to walk out of that room, without taking that large face of Magnolia's on the corner of his desk and breaking them over his thick skull.
"Her name is Zowie Excel-" Lance said through clentched teeth, I didn't look back, I only closed the door quietly behind me. Practically slamming the next door from it's hindges, catching the glances of people in the strip room, almost now dashing through the small and dark talk-room, now completely running down the dark hallway, past the bathrooms and into the heart pounding, rip vibrating bass of the ongoing party music. Now it was a fast song, where as everyone was still having sex on the dance floor; only closer together and more faster. I ran through the crowd without looking back, finally getting to the side-exit as I breathed heavily; feeling like I'd just run a damn marathon in those damned heels. I surprised people waiting in the line as the door locked automatically behind me, followed by 'Hey!' and 'Watch it!' and other colorful things that brought hot tears to my eyes. I shoved past them, avoiding the front entrance for Parker.
I ran to the back of the parking lot while tears ran down my face, weaving through the onslaught of cars and people actually truelly having care-free sex in and around their vehicles. Disgusting. Why did we park so far back! I practically screamed when I found the car, and no keys. I slid down the side of her matching Honda. We got the same cars from our parents for our 16 birthday, the magic Trio again. I sat on the ground, my eyes shining with unshead tears. Did I really look like a whore? I cradled my head in my hands, which were leaning on my knees. I brought my legs to my chest, cradling myself in a tight ball. With my luck I'd get robbed, or raped, or-
I practically stopped breathing when I heard a growl ahead of me. I slowly raised my face to peek from my behind my shield of hair. If only it really shielded me.
"Zowie Excel. From all your luck of getting called a whore, almost losing your job, losing your car, killing an animal, going to the hospital, internal bleeding of your organs, then from the options of getting raped or mugged, you get attacked by a wild animal." I said softly through silent sobs, I slowly raised to my feet against the car, sliding against it.
A large black and grey wolf stared at me through brown eyes, I wanted to scream my lungs out and run like a bat out of hell, but that is not what I did.
"Please, go away." I said softly, pressing harder against the car as if to maybe ease through the glass. Instead Zowie Excel begged a wild wolf to leave her alone.
"Pleeease go away." I said quietly, my hair sticking to my cheeks from running and crying, but I didn't care. I could've screamed, but would it jump me? Would anyone even hear? We'd parked so far back, that I just didn't know. I slipped one foot out of my heel, then used my toe to push off the other. I could run, I could run fast. Maybe, I could jump ontop of the car, but couldn't it jump, too? C'mon Zow, think of the Discovery Channel! My mind was empty, the only thing I could think of was run run run. My instinct telling me my choices, but my body telling me I wasn't going anywhere. Shit. Shit. Shit.
I stepped to my side, scooting baby steps, it's large head watched my movements almost tiredly. Bored even. Oh I wish it would just go the fuck away! I was going to die by a wild animal, mauled to death. The papers would say. Fuck! It suddenly leaped towards me, and I did the only thing my instincts knew to do. All those years in Tie-Quon-Do, I reared back my leg and slammed my foot in the side of it's muzzle. It made a very human hurt sound, backing off. I grabbed my heels and ran like high heaven. Past all the cars, all the people, to the back of the building. I really didn't want to go inside, but I didn't want to get eaten either.
Finally I slammed against the back of the bricked lot, sliding to my bottom breathing heavily.
"C-can't believe I just fought a w-ild wolf. My God." I said breathlessly, slumping my head back to look up at the stars. I really was losing it, was it really even there? Of course it was! It was going to eat me if I didn't do something!
"What have I done to you, that I don't remember?" I said breathlessly up to the stars. Why was all of this happening? Or was I just having a seriously shitty week. I wished for the latter, I didn't have time or the emotional patience to deal with my life-problems, and then my spirtual ones. That was just too much.
"Hey!"
"Ah!" I screamed, falling on my back, quickly scooting back. Looking up at the person whom I couldn't see in the dark, only the steam coming from what looked like a large machine, blocking my view and lungs. The stars winked down at me as the person stepped closer.
"What are you doing?" Lance. I breathed, heavily, letting my head fall against the concrete. I sighed heavily.
"Since when do you have wild animals running amock in the middle of the city? There a circus in town?" I was still breathing extremely heavy when I sat up, leaning back against the bricked wall.
"What?" He asked, now coming into the light. He sighed, pulling up his leather pants as he sat down beside me.
"Nothing." I said breathlessly, closing my eyes trying to get my heart to stop fluttering. Well, if the damn dog came back, we could run back into the building. But I didn't want to play wild-hide and go seek, tell you the trueth.
"Listen, I'm sorry about Gus, he's-"
"The boss?" I asked with a snort/laugh.
"Only the boss of The Jaguar, the man whom he proved to be a complete arse in front of was actually the man who owns the chain of 'Jaguar'."
I looked up at him through my sloutching position, my lips parted to take in air.
"What chain?" He looked up at the stars in what seemed to be his thinking expression.
"You know Jaguar Estates? The housing area a few miles from here? He owns those also." I reached behind me to pull my sweaty matted hair from my wet neck, pulling it up into a bun I set my head gengerly back against the bricks.
"Interesting." I said quietly, my heart resting from the adrenalin pumping through.
"Yes, I'm surprised you haven't heard of him, he's a very popular man." I shrugged.
"I don't get out much, if I do it's for work or gardening, other than that I'm kind of a hermit." I said through a light chuckle. He smiled up at the sky.
"What do you do?"
"I'm a bartender actually, when I'm at home I paint for my other profession. It pays the rent, you know. Nothing big."
"Really now?" He perked, curious. I didn't know which he was saying 'really now' to, so I shot for the one I enjoyed most.
"Yeah, I throw them on Ebay, I suppose I'm alright. I mean I still have my apartment don't I?" I laughed bitterly to myself. I didn't like making my profession seem so, nothing. But it barely payed the rent, I was a little ashamed. I worked so hard at it, it was my passion.
"Why do you sound so . . ."
"Bitter?" I finished for him, I glanced over at him while he nodded.
"I suppose I think myself better than I actually am."
"Maybe you are?" He said thoughtfully, as if noting something. I sighed, adding a shrug.
"I like to think so." I said with a tired laugh.
"You shouldn't be ashamed, I am sure they are fabulous pieces of art." I chuckled.
"You're primping my feathers babe."
"Primping my feathers? Anyday Babe." I laughed at him, foreign.
"You're playing with my ego. Ceist and disist, before I believe you." I cross my ankles, setting my hands over themselves in my lap politely. I'm sure the leather was ripped right now. And I had such larger things to worry over, first thing comes to mind, I hope my skirts not ruined. Typical Zowie.
"Well Dearest Zowie, I must be off for work. But I leave you with my deepest appologies for the bloat who calls himself Boss. I really am sorry." Strange, he didn't sound sorry, in fact I looked over at his face. He was staring up at the sky, face deep in concentration. I even spotted him nibbling his lip, it made me smile.
"You don't sound sorry." I said through a small smile, seriously wondering what could make him think so hard? I'd know the feeling, I'd had that look on my face for days. Just the thought swiped the smile from my face. That man . . . why couldn't he just leave me alone. My thoughts were the only thing that kept me going, I didn't need them stripped from my, too.
"I have, much to do. I'm sorry." He said slowly raising to look down at me. "It was truelly wonderful meeting you." And with that he turned swiftly on his heel and left. Standing in the doorway he turned back around.
"And by the way, you really can't blame the man." He said with a still-concentrated smile. It almost seemed like he was calculating what he let show through his face. This was such an odd night. I was direly ready for it to end, even as far off as that thought was. The night was so very very young. Unfortuantely.
"What man?" I asked, watching his face with honest curiousness.
"The Boss, you look," He made a sound through his lips, sucking air in through his teeth. "Ravishing, if I do say so myself." I laughed a gut tightening hyena sound.
"Thanks?"
"I'll see you again Zowie Excel." And with that he was gone. I shook my head, laughing soft now.
"What a strange man." I said to myself, lifting up. I brushed the small rocks that had stuck painfully into my thighs and arms, now, back to the party.
A/N: I really am sorry for all the mess-ups through out this entry, I really am actually trying to shine it up a bit. You know the drill, give me some R&R if you love me. You strangers with candy. -anime sweat drop- :