CHAPTER FOUR
( THE MYSTERY MAN )
JANUARY'S FEET SHUFFLE along the concrete of the sidewalk as she tries her best not to slip and fall in the shoes that Babs let her borrow. Beside her is her best friend who's heels are a lot higher than hers, but she walks high, confidently. January, too stubborn to admit that she should've chosen a different pair struggles to keep up with Babs's long legs. There was bound to be a few wandering eyes looking at the duo as they skipped the people waiting in the line outside of the unmarked building. Lights spewed out from parts of the door, illuminating the street in colorful patterns.
January could care less about the hateful glares she was receiving as she passed them, she was more concentrated on not falling flat on her face at the moment. She had a sinking feeling about going out tonight, one being that she was probably going to be forced to drink even though she really didn't want to, or that she was going to injure herself and end up walking into the interview with a busted up lip or a bruised chin.
The most irking part was actually having to see Babs's co-workers. They were beautiful, yet catty and not the brightest. She could never hold a conversation with one of them for too long without becoming overwhelming bored. Babs was truly an anomaly. This wasn't going to be a night she could actually enjoy. Her hand instinctively reaches out to grab in to Babs's, as she attempts to climb the stairs up to the pounding club. She tries to steady herself as she stops a step away from her friend as the bouncer at the door stops them. "Babs Ramsay!" she can barely hear her friend even speak to the burly man over the beating bass of the club music.
She avoids any glares she receives from the people waiting in line, some much more good looking than her, more deserving and more desperate to get in the club to dance the night away. The bouncer eyes January for a moment before looking to the model. She flashes him a dazzling smile, the one that got her into the business. "She's my plus one, she should be marked on there!" she shouts to him, whole pointing at the sheet of paper on the clipboard. January shrinks in size as the bouncer continues to look on to her as if she didn't belong. She didn't. She knew that. She didn't some meat head sizing her up to tell her that.
In one gruff motion the bouncer juts his head back and moves to the side, allowing passage into the overcrowded club. It's a miracle that she got in, she knew that Babs was lying to make her a plus one, like they actually had those marked on their. Perhaps he was being generous. Whatever it was, January was thankful for it. Babs wraps her arms around January's shoulder, gently moving them from side to side in an effort to get her to loosen up and dance with her as they moved towards the crowded dance floor.
Seeing all those people all standing next to one another, rubbing and grinding, trying to find some space between each other gave her anxiety. She had been used to this kind of scene back in college but she was too old for this now. A part of her wondered if Babs would ever grow up with her or if she'd be stuck in her college days mentality for the rest of her life. She could feel the best of the music pound through the soles of her feet as Babs lead her through the center of the dance floor in an effort to find her colleagues - whoever they were this week. That was the glory of being a model, she didn't have to work with the same people twice if she didn't want to, she could pick and choose what jobs she wanted to do, and it came with perks such as being able to be a part of exclusive night clubs.
A couple years ago January had thought this was the life she wanted to live, she wanted to stay up all night partying rather than studying for class that she needed to pass to graduate. At that moment in her life she was jealous of Babs. As the years passed though, she could tell that she was growing out of the phase. Partying didn't seem to scratch that itch for her anymore. Although, the one thing that Babs could hold against her was that she actually had two jobs whereas she had none. Thank God for Stark Industries.
Her mood perks up at the thought of having a job. Finally, something that may be worth her time and to pay her bills instead of sitting on the dwindling stack of cash she's kept since the move out here. A slight yank on her wrist from Babs and she's pulled off to the side by her, away from the swaying bodies. Instead she finds herself clutching on to the sticky counter top of the bar in the middle of the club, its surface illuminating with bright lights underneath making each drink look like it came from another planet. A planet that she couldn't afford.
"Two Fireball's please!" her friend shouts to the bartender, who nods to her before turning his back to grab the whiskey. January scrunches her nose up at the thought of the sweet but burning taste of the alcohol, it made a shiver run down her spine. She wasn't that big of a fan of whiskey or any cinnamon related foods or drinks. Yet, the shot wasn't as bad as a shot of Patron. It was more risk-free if anything. Babs forced her to clink their glasses together before downing the amber colored liquid. It bites her back as she chokes it down. She shudders as she slams the glass back down on the bar, sliding it across to get it as far away from her as it could. The last thing she wanted was for more alcohol to enter her system, especially after yesterday's ordeal.
"Ready for another?" Babs shouted into her ear. Although, January shook her head feverishly Babs gave her a devilish smirk before turning to the bartender to fetch him for more drinks. "I'll take a captain and coke and she'll have a -" Babs looked at her friend with a pleading look. "Water," January mumbled, forcing Babs to roll her eyes. "A long island!"
January opens her mouth to protest but remembers that she was only here to celebrate with Babs and she was buying all the drinks. She didn't want to offend her in any way. She just had to be discreet about shoving her drinks off for the ones she was going to be receiving all night. All she could do was helplessly watch the club goers as she waited on Babs. All the women looked glammed up, with their mid-drifts exposed, wearing stiletto heels as they wound their bodies against a partner. Most of their eyeliner was smudged from the sweat that was building on their face. Being in the frey seemed less and less appealing.
She jumps in surprise as she feels Babs press her cool drink against the flesh of her arm. Babs eyes her as she takes a long sip of her drink. "Seriously, babe, you need to loosen up," she nudges January in a lame attempt to make her bop along with the music. January shakes her head as if she's shaking her nerves off, her face looking paler than usual under the dim lighting. "I'm just worried about the whole interview thing. I can't afford to mess this up," she whines causing her friend to roll her eyes scoff. She's heard this about a million times with her other interviews. January was always a worry wart. "Yes or else you won't be able to afford living here. I know this, I know this. Have you ever thought about dating somebody rich? I know a few people -"
"I'm not going to be one of your setups," January coolly interrupts, flashing her a glare before taking another sip of her drink. "Besides, I don't think I could be a stay-at-home wife," she chokes out, coughing a little as the alcohol burned her throat. "Man what would I give if I could find a rich husband," Babs hums out dreamily while leaning up against the bar. January's brows raise at the statement. They were in the perfect place to find her a rich husband - so long if the man was telling the truth. "Why don't you? I mean, you have all these "connections"," January mocked, moving her only free hand to air-quote. A small smirk appears on her face as she watches her friends mood sour.
"I don't date people I work with," Babs says with an eye roll. January merely nodded her head. That wasn't true. Babs was notorious for having the worst luck at trying to find a stable relationship in her line of work. Whatever one she was at. During modelling she could go after rich men, men who would dangle the worlds shiniest jewels in front of her and retract it once she became too invested in their relationship. At the bar she could potentially find someone but they're usually just one night stands and not really up her ally.
January couldn't blame it all on the men as well, Babs got a little too comfortable a little too fast. Of course once a man in his prime hears the word relationship come out of her mouth they were bound to dash. Babs leads them to a section in the club, forcing January out of her comfort zone of staying near the bar where less people were bound to elbow her in the side while dancing. As soon as they exited the grove of dancing people, January's already humdrum face turned into a flat out scowl as she saw the beautiful and chiseled features of Babs's co-workers. A crowd she was displeased to be with. She hated having conversations with any model, aside from Babs. It was just irritating.
Babs turns back to introduce everyone to her best friend only to see a sight that she was too used to seeing. January's arms fold across her chest, a scowl placing itself on her face. She looked severely unapproachable, and that's what she was aiming for, somewhat. But it wasn't what Babs had intended to do, she couldn't just be cooped up with January at her side the whole night. "Are you okay?" Babs questions, her brows furrowing as January rolls her eyes. "I'm here," she huffs out, stepping into the lounge that had been reserved for the models. "These are my colleagues," Babs whispers, closing in on her ear. "Please play nice with them and at least act like your having a good time,"
January tries her best to splay a fake smile on her face as her friend warily keeps a watchful eye on her. It's not long after the warning that Babs ends up ditching her, leaving her to her own devices. January huffs out a sigh as she stands awkwardly, tracing the rim of her glass with her index finger out of boredom. An uproar of excitement buzzes throughout the club, people appeared to be cheering for someone. January raises a brow in question at this but doesn't investigate further. Instead she perches herself on a plush leather couch, sipping on what was left of her watered down drink. Her eyes linger on the party in front of her. It's not like she didn't want to celebrate her second interview, she just didn't feel welcome celebrating it with people with two brain cells.
Babs was beautiful, yes, but she also went to to college only to drop out. She would soon learn that modelling comes and goes with age. Then maybe she wouldn't shove her off on her own while she danced with her beautiful friends, alcohol splashing out of her cup. Her cup. January looks down at her own glass, the alcohol was surely gone, the only liquid remaining was the water falling from the melting ice. She places the glass on the table in front of her, before resting her head in the palm of her hand, leaning on the side of the couch. She wanted to go home, get some rest before her interview tomorrow but there was no way Babs would let her leave this early without an argument. She couldn't argue with her, especially after she spent yesterday babying her about her financial woes and stress.
She finally catches Babs's attention, pointing to the glass in front of her on the table. Babs rolls her eyes and points to the second bar behind the sectioned off area of the club. January glares back at her friend, she didn't even offer to accompany her. However, if she was stuck here she wasn't going to be sober enough to actually remember any of it. Luckily the reserved lounge was far less occupied than the actual club itself. She didn't have to push or wave down the bartender. She simply ordered two long islands and was on her way back to her seat. She didn't feel the need nor want to leave her spot until Babs was ready to leave. That being said, the two drinks should carry over for that amount of time. Hopefully.
The cushion on the couch gives in next to her, alerting her of someone's presence. She gives the man a quick glance at his features. A goatee, sunglasses, and a sleek black suit. Not exactly a party outfit but he was obviously trying to grab her attention by smiling at her. She rolls her eyes and tries to scooch closer to the side of the couch. Here she thought the night would be easy, and she wouldn't have to shoo away anyone.
She stared down Babs, hoping that she would actually look over and save her. However, the man didn't attempt to move closer to her, and instead leaned forward, looking down at what appeared to by a cell phone. Slowly but surely, after a while, January began to let her guard down. Perhaps he was just being polite with giving her a smile. "You look like you'd rather be somewhere else," he comments. His voice alarms her, making her heart leap in her chest from the sudden scare. She peers over to him.
He hadn't moved from his spot, he was still tapping away on a phone or a device. She gave him a confused look. Did he actually even speak to her? He places whatever he was tinkering with in his suit pocket, along with his sunglasses. He looked familiar but she couldn't figure out where he was from. Perhaps it was the alcohol and the darkness from the club that made his features somewhat indistinguishable. January raises her brows and takes a sip of her drink before answering, "What gave that away?"
"Well," the man starts, leaning back against the couch. "For starters you keep glaring at the party in front of you," he points over to the cluster of models where Babs was. She tried her best not to roll her eyes at the sight of her friend sitting across a guys lap while letting him do a body shot from her. "Are you with them?" he questions, a smirk growing on his lips as he watches the party. A look of disgust crosses her face. Her? A model? "No," she says insulted. The man returns his attention to her and places his hands up at his sides as if he were surrendering. She scoffs as she shakes her head, taking another sip of her drink. As if she were pretty enough to be a model. "Why are you here?" he asks, breaking the awkwardness. "Forced to come," she shortly answers.
"By your friends?" he pries.
"Friend," she corrects.
"Where is she?"
January points towards Babs in the center of the model crowd as she dances with two of her co-workers. It looked like she wasn't going home alone tonight. "So you are a model," the man teases, chuckling softly to himself as he watches her scowl. "I mean you're pretty enough to be one,"
"And there it is," January states as she takes a long sip of her drink. He chuckles at her response. January's gaze shifts over to Babs once again as she watches her turn around and kiss her co-worker. She notices out of the corner of her eye that the man has taken out his cell phone once again, looking down at it. She uses this time to take a sip of her drink. More like a chug. Her drink is almost gone by the time she finishes sucking it down. Good thing she had another drink. "So why aren't you a model like your friend?" he questions.
"Because I have an education,"
The man snorts at the response, still tinkering with whatever he was doing. It was clear she didn't have his full attention. "Still doesn't explain why you're not hanging out with them," he notes.
"I would rather stay silent on a couch, than saying blatantly obvious things to start a conversation, like "the table is round", "the DJ is a man", "the music is loud". Stuff like that,"
The man Snickers from beside her. "I like your wit," he mumbles out although it was hard to hear the actual compliment. January stretches her arms in front of her. The downside of drinking was that it made her tired yet restless at the same time. "We're supposed to be celebrating me getting another interview," she says, gaining the man's attention once again. "But I guess I got shafted,"
"Celebrating? Why didn't you say so!" he cheerily states. He must've been more drunk than what he lead on to be. She carefully and cautiously watches him as he stands up from the couch. Now she was getting abandoned by the only person who had approached her all night. "I'll be back," he slurs out, before dashing away from him. Although, she's relieved that she was no longer accompanied by a total, drunk, stranger but she did like his vigor and how he wasn't afraid to speak to her. Now her only entertainment was to watch the crowd.
Maybe she could ditch since Babs was busy sucking face with her co-worker. January slams the rest of her drink before starting the second. There was no way she was just going to waste twenty dollars on drinks and not drink them. She could already feel herself start to drift into her woozy, drunken state. She had been feeling a little fuzzy since the first drink but slamming the second drink and getting a quarter of the way through the third was starting to have damaging effects on her. Suddenly the couch shifts once again.
A drunken smile comes across her lips as she looks at the man who had left her earlier. His sunglasses hanging loosely from his collar now, as he swayed in his seat. "One for you, m'lady," he slurs as he passes her a rather large shot glass. She can't help but giggle at his antics. The alcohol really did go to her head too fast. "What is this?" she asks somewhat loudly. It feels as if the volume of the room had amplified with the surge of alcohol running through her veins. "Liquid courage!"
"Smells like jäger!" she notes as she smells the sickeningly sweet aroma. It's enough to make her gag. "That's because it is," he replies with a smirk. "Where's the beer? I thought jägerbombs had beer around them?"
"Do you want to be hungover tomorrow?" he sarcastically remarks, making her let out a small chuckle. She shakes her head as she sniffs the shot once more. "To whatever you're celebrating!" he exclaims as he places his shot glass in the middle of them. "To job interviews!" she lazily corrects, as she taps the table in front of them with her shot glass along with him before downing the liquid. The taste of it makes her cringe. She notably shakes in her seat as the after taste hits her like a freight train. "I have never in my life witnessed someone take a shot like it was a drink," he laughs giddily, watching January grieve and regret what she had just ingested. "Are you okay?" he asks, placing his hand on her back as she coughs. "It's just," she cringes at the after taste once again. "Really strong,"
"Well get ready for the Patron because that's next,"
"Oh, God, no," January groans, causing amusement to the strange man. "Thank you," she says after she's recovered from the shot. She runs her hand through her hair, throwing out any bobby pins in the way. "No problem, no one should celebrate big things on their own," he says, as he grabs on to the drink in front of him. She didn't even realize that he was drinking a scotch until now. He was bound to be plastered. But after that shot, so was she.
"So which one is your friend, again? I didn't get a clear view from your gesture earlier," he asks once again, pointing to each of the models. January squints trying to find her friend, only to find her back against the wall with the man she was kissing earlier. She could leave at anytime now. But the man was keeping her pleasant company. "The one currently playing tonsil hockey with the guy in the corner," she jokes, pointing to her friend. The man's brows furrow as he looks at them, a sudden look of cringe and disgust coming across his features. January silently chuckles to herself as she watches him.
"Want to join in on the action?" he teases, leaning closer to her. The closeness didn't seem to bother her, he was still a good distance to where he couldn't try anything. "No," she dismisses as she takes a sip of her drink. "Just thought I'd ask," he shrugs off. "You know, I have a thing for redheads," he states confidently. January scoffs at the bold statement. "You and just about the rest of the male population," she takes another long sip of her diminishing drink. Once this was gone, she would be gone. "Someone already use the line on you?"
"Several times," she informs him, her words starting to slur together. It was true but she was used to it. It came with the territory of the genes. The man looks around the club like he was suddenly hyper aware of something that put him on edge. "I mean, who could blame them? You are the definition of a beautiful, fiery, redhead. Where's you're family from?" he lists off effortlessly.
January snorts at his antics. "Ancestor wise, Scotland,"
"Ancestor wise?" he repeats in a lingering tone. "You said that on purpose so I'd have to ask the question of where you're from. So where are you from?
January blushes out of embarrassment, before flashing him a smile and answering sheepishly, "Wisconsin,"
The man's brows lift in surprise before drunkenly giggling. January joins in, although it was more of a disguise. She knew the man probably felt pity for her as she was out of her element. This was enough to sober her up. "And you made the move to one of the toughest cities in the country," he wheezes after his laughing fit. "How are you being accustomed to everything? Because I can show you a good time in L.A." he says in a suggestive manner. January rolls her eyes as she takes a sip of her drink.
Maybe his charm was starting to rub off, or maybe she was getting to sober to talk to him. "What's your goal here, if you don't mind me asking? Make fun of me and then take me home?" she asks in a genuine matter-of-fact tone, leaning on her elbow as if she actually wanted to hear is answer. "My goal?" The man reiterates, seeming a little flabbergasted at her straight forwardness. "Well, I thought it was obvious. Talk to the beautiful redhead from across the bar that looked lonely, maybe she's from - where'd you say you were from again?"
"Wisconsin,"
"Maybe she's from Wisconsin and needs someone to show her around and maybe -"
"And maybe she'd somehow magically get shown your sheets?" she smirks, as she watches his mouth open in shock. He's motionless for a moment, as of he was trying to recover from her accusation. January sips on her drink triumphantly, the action makes the man smirk. "Your words not mine," he quickly states in his defense. "But if you wanted to, I'm not complaining. I wouldn't mind having you in my bed,"
Another eye roll from January. She feels dizzy after this one as she places her drink down on the table. Perhaps she had just had one too much. It was best to cut herself off now before she got any worse and did end up in bed with the mystery man. Although his features in the darkness of the club were starting to become blurrier and blurrier as the moments passed on. He would have a shot with her if she continued to drink. That's not how she wanted to start the day tomorrow, waking up in a stranger's bed with an important interview to go to.
January yawns as she stretches her arms out. "Well unfortunately it's past my bedtime and I have an interview tomorrow," she lazily informs him, the drinks and exhaustion hitting her like a freight train. "Do you need a ride home? You've been drinking. I can take you," he kindly offers but, January remembers that he's also been matching drinks with her and he was already slurring his words when he had settled down next to her.
"No, I think I'm fine. I'll take a cab," she attests, dizzily standing up, almost stumbling down because of the heels. She grunts in protest as she feels the man's arm enclose around her to make sure she didn't fall. She uses this opportunity to take the heels off, she didn't care if she walked through the club barefoot, she knew it was against the rules but she was leaving anyways. The man begins to speak up once again, "At least let me pay for it -"
"You already got me a shot. That's payment enough," January stops him from offering anything more. The man was generous but she knew that he thought generosity bought him a ticket to her place. She presses a tight lip smile towards him. "Thank you for celebrating with me,"
"Sorry you have bad friends," he simply states with no filter, it was enough to make her burst out with a chuckle. "I like you," she mumbles out under her breath, sloppily making her way over to where the models have taken their place. Babs had finished kissing the man she was with, just relaxing on his lap. "Hey, I'm gonna head out!" she shouts over the crowd of voices, while waving to Babs. Nothing. She just stared blankly at her before giggling and waving back. She was too drunk. But thankfully that meant she didn't have to get an earful of why she wasn't with her the whole night.
As she descends the steps of the enclosed area where only "V.I.P."s reigned she hears the mystery mans familiar voice ring in her ear. She turns to look up to see him standing behind the belted off area, scotch in hand, glasses strewn across the collar of his shirt. "Wait, I didn't get your name," he gasps out as if he had ran all the way over to her just to ask. Even though the man seemed kind, and he acted as if his intentions were true and good, she knew no man at a nightclub could be trusted. She could give him a fake name, as that is what she would usually do but, she did honestly like him. A cruel yet coy smirk plays on her lips, "I'm sure our paths will cross again,"
She turns on her heel before he has time to protest or ask what that even means. Even she didn't know what it meant. With her shoes in hand, she tosses up her hand to him, not even sparing a parting look. "Goodnight," she sings out. The man smirks at her as he watches her leave. That was a kind of woman he had never met before at a nightclub. A smart one.