"Alright girls! Gather 'round!" I instructed, my flock of dancers flowing from the corners of the House to right in front of me. Currently, I was standing on the stage for once, but to some of the girl's consternation, I was not gonna perform myself, no matter how much they tried stroking my ego and telling me that I would do wonderful.
Maybe as a Christmas bonus.
"Okay. So tonight is the first night of our strip performance. Today's Tuesday, so Melanie and Neon, this is your night. You've gone through all the procedures with Glynda right?" I questioned them. Neon gave an 'ok' symbol, whilst Melanie gave a double thumbs up. Wonderful. I checked my tablet, swiping a few pages to their routines.
"Okay, so Melanie, you'll be our first strip performance. You feeling up for it?" I asked her.
"All good and ready boss!" She answered, smiling widely, flashing a wink and a thumbs up. Laughing, I then turned to Neon, and asked her a similar question.
Giggling, she nodded her head excitedly, bouncing in place. We had done something special for her dance, something very different from the norm. I was rather proud of this idea.
"Brilliant. As for the rest of you, you know the drill. Keep beepers at the ready, mingle with the guests, stay safe, so on and so forth. Tonight's been projected to be busy, so get your a-games on." Towards the back of the group, Yang raised her hand in question.
"Out of curiosity, how big is the crowd actually projected to be?" The other girls turned to me, a similar question on their mind. I took a deep breath, mentally having to come to terms with the number despite figuring it out a couple days ago.
"We're thinking that we may end up with double our usual crowd," I told them, receiving shocked stares at my answer. I could only shrug helplessly. "Boobs are big business. Naked boobs are huge business."
There were mixed reactions at that, an amalgamation of excitement, nervousness, surprise, with some looking rather impressed. We had been pulling in a good sized crowd most nights now, so to imagine double that was a little daunting.
I had already had a talk with all the security personnel, one that was much more serious. Members of a crowd could already get whipped up into a frenzy at the best of times, add naked, dancing women to that equation and it is entirely possible that we could end up with a situation on our hands. This would not be allowed to happen. As such, security got amped up a little, with a little bonus pay to further incentivise them.
"We have 10 minutes til' opening girls, everyone get going to your positions. We're going to have an intense night ahead, so remember to hydrate and keep your energy up," Glynda ordered, shooing the girls off to their places. I dropped from the stage, and made my way to the front door to welcome the coming influx of guests.
God, this was more nerve wracking than our first night open.
Eyeing my watch, I counted down each passing minute, the minute movements of each hand giving me a fresh wave of excitement and anxiety. Shit could go wrong, so very wrong. A guest could get far too rowdy, the lighting or music systems could go haywire the very night we needed them to work the most, a fucking meteor could drop from the sky and crush the House!
Okay that last one was me being hyperbolic, but still.
60 seconds left.
Final checks; suit? Immaculate. Kitchen? Been prepping for almost an hour now. Security? Patrolling the House like a pack of guard dogs. The House itself? Steam cleaned, with every inch shining.
20 seconds.
I could hear the crowd gathered outside, excitedly murmuring and mumbling, no doubt about the House's new performance. Who didn't like naked dancing women? It was like in the top 3 of the greatest sights in the world!
5 seconds.
4 seconds.
3 seconds.
2 seconds.
1 second.
Immediately plastering a joyful smile on my face, I opened the doors, welcoming the group of guests as they passed, shaking a few hands and patting a few backs of those who I considered regulars. It was exactly as I said, the number of guests considerably greater than usual. New faces abound, all of them enthusiastic, eyeing the House around them in wonder.
With half the crowd already inside, a majority of the girls moved in, namely Blake, Militia, Yang and Glynda, all putting in their full worth and leading 2 or 3 guests at a time to their table, welcoming them with saucy winks and salacious smirks. Ciel, Nebula and Neo were backstage with Neon and Melanie, the front runners to the strip performance. They'd get the place adrenalised with their own performances, and then we'd hit the crowd with Neon and Melanie's dance.
With a majority of the audience taking their seats, extra kindly provided by us with the larger number of people in mind, I strutted over and around the dining area, eyeing every table to make sure that people were being seated and served by the wait staff. Interestingly, I noticed a trend where not as many people as I assumed were buying some food. More than usual, still, but not as many as predicted. Maybe people wanted to focus fully on the performances without the distraction of food to take their attention away from the stripping women.
Yeah, that made sense.
There were no free seats in front of the stage, so I instead took a spot at the smaller bar, leaning back and observing the foyer from afar.
"Pardon the intrusion and Eclair, do you mind if I sit with you a moment?" I heard an older voice ask. Turning, I was surprised to see Ozpin once more, though this time he seemed to be flying solo. Blinking, I quickly collected myself, and gestured to the empty seat next to me.
"Please do," I answered. Smiling that enigmatic smile of his, he took the seat, turning to me with a curious, but interested expression.
"So, Mr Eclair, added stripping to the routine? Can I ask a question regarding that?" He asked. I nodded, gesturing for him to continue. "You of course know that there are quite literally hundreds of strip clubs and nude bars in Vale. What have you done to separate yourself from the masses?"
Internally, I chuckled, amused. It was a similar question that I had asked Neon, Nebula and Ciel when conducting the face-to-face. And now someone is asking me something similar.
"Well, without spoiling anything, we've added some extra 'features,' I guess, to help make the performance more memorable than the average strip," I answered, causing him to 'oh' in interest.
"My, that is interesting. And I understand you also hired more girls for your business?" He questioned. I held up a hand, four fingers pointed up.
"Brings my performing staff up to 9 now. A varied roster of very exciting, but very different women," I explained, receiving an impressed whistle in response. I turned to him, tilting my head in curiosity. "And what of you Mr Ozpin? No dates tonight?"
He shook his head, and gestured over to the grouping of dining tables in the middle of the foyer.
"When I heard that you had a new show planned, I instead arranged a men's night out with a few friends of mine, they're just over there actually," he explained. Squinting, I looked for the table he was pointing to, quickly finding it. Two gentlemen, one rather thin lanky with the other being bulky and rotund, were both sitting at a table, chuckling and laughing to themselves.
"Ah, I understand. Well, I hope you all enjoy your night!" I exclaimed, causing Ozpin to bow his head thankfully. He made to return to his table, but seemed to consider something for a moment. He turned, and gestured to the table.
"Would you perhaps like to join us, Mr Eclair? I'm sure they would be ecstatic to meet you," he offered. Mentally, I wondered if perhaps he had come over with the full intention of offering a place at his table, just under the pretence of coming over for a quick chat. I decided to let the thought go however, figuring that it didn't matter either way.
Thanking him, I followed just behind as he led the way to his table, greeting his friends before kindly introducing me.
"Peter, Bart, this is Franc Eclair, owner and proprietor of this fine establishment. Mr Eclair, these are Bart and Peter, two good friends of mine from the Beacon Lighthouse," he introduced. Bart, the lanky one, was a thin, wiry thing, with unkempt green hair and a pair of strangely vibrant purple eyes that observed you from behind a pair of single wire spectacles. Peter, the rotund gentleman, was a greying man with an absolutely fantastic moustache. Like, god damn, what a piece of facial hair.
"Sirs, welcome to the House of Ecstasy. I hope you're enjoying the place so far," I welcomed, taking an offered seat and giving both men a firm handshake.
"It's quite well, quite well indeed! We look forward to your performances, we've heard good things!" Bart said, speaking at a rather fast pace for a normal conversation.
"Quite right! We're excited to see what your girls can do! Tell us, can you give us a little teaser as to what we can expect?" Peter questioned, his voice seeming to be at a persistent bellow. Still, the man looked like the sort to be real fucking fun to hang around. Chuckling, I gave a noncommittal shrug, causing the other men to have a short laugh, somewhat at Peter's expense, but he took it in stride.
"I supposed it wouldn't be any sort of surprise if we knew what was going to happen ahead of time, would it?" Ozpin wondered, amusement coursing through his smile.
The darkening of the room caused the crowd to fall quiet, all eyes pointing towards the stage. A hush fellow over the audience, an excited air permeating the room.
Mentally, I rechecked the roster to recall who went in what order.
Right, Nebula was first!
A series of purple and pink lights shone upon the stage, the beginning of a warped, almost psychedelic beat filled the room, the type of music that set your teeth on edge while filling your veins with adrenaline.
The violet haired girl strutted out onto stage, her hair dyed with pinkish-white highlights. Her outfit was similar to one women would wear if they were going to the gym, with a few modifications.
A deep neckline was of course mandatory, the modified training bra pushing up her breasts for the crowd's enjoyment, with tight booty shorts that looked fit to rip at any moment. Across the hem of her clothes were a series of white and pink stars, giving her clothing the image of a galaxy, much like her namesake. To further drive home the workout appearance, she was given an arm band and a fresh pair of sneakers.
Her toned physique and themed outfit drew out a number of interested and impressed sounds from the crowd, which seemed to energise Nebula further. Unlike many of the choreographies with the other dancers, Nebula's routine was much more energetic, and in a way explosive. Sharp, powerful movements from her hips, her hands running up and down her sides, grasping at her chest, all in time with the music. Glynda really was a magician when it came to using our girls' strengths.
"Is this one of your newest employees?" Bart asked, voice a hushed whisper so as not to bother the other guests. I nodded, with Peter giving a very low whistle, dazzled.
"A very fit young woman, mightily impressive Mr Eclair," he whispered, eyes naturally trailing Nebula's dance-like movements. I felt a smirk cross my face, a tingle of pride swelling from my chest.
"We accept many body types in the House, so long as the girls are healthy, we are willing to consider them," I explained, all three men nodding their heads in agreement.
Leaning back, the four of us enjoyed the show in a fascinated silence. Nebula, fit, energetic and tomboyish, seemed to have a limitless tank of stamina. I don't think I saw her slow down once. And she kept a soft smile on her face the whole time, contrasting the powerful dance that had her lightly perspiring, the pink and purple lights gently switching between to the two colours, bathing her athletic form in the vibrant colours.
When the dance came to a finish, Nebula took a short bow for the applauding crowd, blowing them a kiss before exiting the stage. I clapped, just as impressed as I hoped I would be.
"My, a fine performance! Nice touch with the highlights in her hair too, dear boy. I see our dear Glynda's handiwork is being used most brilliantly," Peter complimented, voice jovial and full of mirth. Bart nodded in agreement with his compatriot.
"Her expertise in the practical side of our business has been paramount. Truly couldn't have done it without her," I said, totally honest, and grateful for Glynda's help.
"I must admit, I was somewhat saddened when she decided to leave for different avenues. However, seeing this establishment use her skills so wisely, I would say my apprehensions have been assuaged," Bart admitted. I nodded, understanding his point of view. I too would be depressed if Glynda decided to move on to a different business, but if I knew they were treating her well and were putting her skills to good use, I think I would be at peace with it.
"No doubt we miss her at Beacon, but I think we all agree that we are happy for her," Ozpin interjected, receiving a hum of agreement.
A waitress swung by our table, politely asking if we would like to order a drink while the intermission was on. We did so, with a Tom Collins for myself, an Espresso Martini for Bart, an Old Fashioned for Peter, and a Presbyterian for Ozpin. Whilst waiting, we all chatted for a bit, nothing of import, more just the recent happenings of our daily lives. That and talked about a few of our differing business practices.
For instance, Ozpin, Peter and Bart all explained what it was like to run a business as large as theirs.
"Well, a big difference is that we're unable to establish as strong a relationship with each individual girl as you can. There's simply too many under our employ. With that being said, it does allow us to have many services at once. Private dances, group performances, and of course we're able to easily call on a girl if another gets sick," Bart explained. I hummed, intrigued.
"I see the benefits of having such a large roster of workers, but for me having a smaller group works best for our establishment. It allows us to work with the strengths and weaknesses of our performers in a much better capacity," I said, explaining my side of the conversation. Port decided to pipe up.
"A sort of quality over quantity situation?" He asked. I gave a so-so gesture.
"In a way. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that we are able to fully concentrate our efforts instead of spreading it all out to a large group of girls," I countered.
"Ah, speaking of the number of workers however, how many girls do you think you will take under your employ?" Ozpin asked. I made to answer, but at that moment our drinks arrived. We took a minute to sip our cocktails, the pleasing drinks giving a pleasant buzz. Once we had sipped our glasses, I continued.
"In total, I'm thinking maybe 15 girls. Enough to cover each other's shifts and allow us to have a few events and performances running at the same time, but not so much that we can't bring out their best qualities without ignoring anybody. A sort of middle ground," I answered.
Once more, the room darkened. It was Ciel's turn, if I remember correctly. Glynda had spent a little time training her up 1 on 1, so I was interested to see what she had come up with.
First the lights once more changed colour, this time to a softer, lighter shade of blue. The music was similar, soft violin and cello tunes welcoming her entrance. The change of pace was fascinating, as before, the hum of energy from Nebula's performance being replaced by a quiet splendour.
And of course, the best part of the dance itself, Ciel seemed to follow this pattern. Unlike Nebula's workout inspired clothing, Ciel's was more based on the clothing of high society. Sort of.
Her hair was partially slicked back, and left its natural colour, whereas some blue eyeshadow was applied to enhance the colour of her eyes.
Across her chest was something similar to a suit and dress shirt, including a little red bowtie around her neck. But as your eyes inevitably travelled downward, you'd notice that the buttons for both the dress shirt and suit jacket were entirely undone at the middle and bottom, completely exposing her torso, and therefore the gold coloured navel piercing. All that hid her privates was a pair of very dark black panties, as all she had on her lower body otherwise, was fishnet stockings, and a pair of knee high leather boots. Her expression was an odd mix of neutral and superior, much like a royal eyeing her kingdom of villagers.
It was an interesting look, and props to Ciel for being confident enough to show off at least one of her piercings.
Once more a dichotomy between Nebula's and Ciel's performance was clear. If Nebula's dance was explosive, Ciel's was more like water, her body flowing from one step to the other.
Her beautifully tan body swayed so suggestively, the suit jacket and shirt both purposefully just a little too tights, her chest pressing against the fabric, much to my and everyone else's delight.
It was actually rather hard to fully describe Ciel's performance. She turned and spun so slowly, fully showing off her body to the masses. At one point, her back was to the crowd, with Ciel twisting and turning her hips, clearly bringing attention to her soft rear. I must admit, I really wanted to manhandle that ass.
She turned again, seamlessly raising one leg up and around the pole, allowing her to slowly swing around the equipment, leading her to straightening and moving back to a standing position. The beat of the music began to incrementally speed up, with her moves matching the music. Ciel's face reddened slightly, most likely from exertion, but far from taking away from her dance, it more seemed to add to it, giving her the appearance of arousal, no doubt sending shivers down the spines of many of the guests.
Did she stop there? No, she continued on, bending at the waist with her arms grasping at the pole above her head, further pushing her chest against her clothing, before she pulled herself up, lifting herself a couple inches above the ground, allowing her to turn almost 360 degrees before landing, and transitioning into a full body turn that slowly brought her to the ground, landing her in her knees just as the music ended. Eyeing the crowd with a superior look in her eyes, she unclipped the bow tie around her neck and tossed it into the crowd. One lucky bastard caught it, and held it triumphantly in the air, causing the audience to laugh and applaud his luck.
Once Ciel exited, the lights returned to normal. Only one Neo's act before Melanie's strip performance, and then Neon's.
This was getting exciting!
"Very nice, I think I'm a touch partial to the first girl's dance myself, but the second act was admirable as well!" Peter commented. I could understand that, and he seemed the type to love his energetic dances. Bart on the other hand seemed to prefer Ciel's.
"The synchronisation of dance and music was exceptionally charming, and that added flair of tossing the tie was a perfect finish. I would have to prefer, ah, I'm sorry, I seem to have missed their names," he apologised.
"Not a problem. The first girl was Nebula, the second Ciel. Both are relatively new here, and both seemed to have made a very fine impression," I told them, happy to see that all three of them seemed to agree.
"Fine impressions indeed. From where I'm sitting, I see some positive responses from the audience," Ozpin added. We chuckled, eyeing the gentlemen around us with amused expressions. Maybe it was just our general proximity to our workers, but we had sort of lost the starry eyed look when it came to the sight of dancing, half naked girls.
Didn't stop us loving it though.
"Pardon boss," I heard a gruff voice say. Turning, I saw one of the guards, not Grover, standing behind me. I sighed, having an idea of what he was going to say.
"Trouble with a guest?" I asked. The guard nodded. Damn. Turning back to my guests, I shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry everyone, I'm afraid that I seem to have a situation I have to deal with."
They nodded, no doubt sympathetic to my plight. I imagine they had to deal with this shit every day, especially with the number of guests they must receive on a daily basis.
Standing, I followed after the guard, silently cursing when I noticed the room darken. And now I was gonna miss Neo's dance. Perfect!
My mood had quickly soured, and by the time I was led to a side door that opened into a half empty storage room, I was scowling and cursing up a storm.
There, tied to a chair was a blond haired man with a simply terrible moustache, not nearly as magnificent as Peter's. Off in one corner, Militia was wrapped in Glynda's arm, seeming incredibly aggravated. I could figure out why. Grover entered the room after us, and sent the original guard back to his station.
"Alright. I reckon I can already guess what happened, but I should figure out all the details. Militia dear, come over here real quick?" I asked. Glynda gave the younger girl a questioning glance, silently asking if she was alright with that. She nodded, and stalked over to my side, no matter how reluctant she clearly felt.
"Okay, now you just walk me through what happened, okay?" I asked her. She sighed, wrapping her arms around herself.
"I was going on break, went to the back to grab some lunch. Before I could get through the door, this asshole," she began, gesturing to the tied man in front of us, "grabbed me from behind and pinned me to a wall. I think he was at one of the tables I sat with for a bit, I don't fucking know. Started going off about some bullshit, I couldn't really understand him. Man's had about 7 drinks in him. Anyway, I hit my beeper like you and Glynda told me, and Rodriguez was there in like, 30 seconds. Dragged this fucker off like a sack of loose shit."
I nodded, and gestured for her to return to Glynda. Turning, I looked back at the tied guy, huffing in annoyance. I kicked his leg.
"Oi you, what's your name?" I questioned him. He grumbled something unintelligible, so I leaned forward, trying to hear him. "Say that again?"
Once more he grumbled, and with a growl, spat at me, his spit landing on my cheek. I sighed, grabbing a handkerchief from my jacket.
"Grover," I ordered. Dutifully, Grover lashed out with one hand, his fist slamming into the guy's cheek with considerable force. I knew I hired him for a reason. He wasn't just a slab of a beef yah know, besides his intelligence and skill for observation, he could throw a damn good fucking punch. Or a kick. An elbow, even. Hell, he could administer a sick fucking headbutt when he wanted to.
Cleaning my face, I gestured for Glynda to take Militia out of the room, instructing her to go back to the dressing room and take care of her there. This was likely going to get messy.
"Alright, since you don't wanna tell me your name, I'll just give you one. Let's call you Gregory, any problem with that?" I sarcastically asked. The newly named Gregory was wide eyed and shocked, likely knocked sober by Grover's terrifying punch.
"Right, so, Gregory, to put it in simple terms for you. You have fucked up. Majorly so. Every girl employed under me is protected by myself and the security guards of the House of Ecstasy. So you following one of my girls, grabbing her, and intimidating her, has just made you an enemy of mine," I further explained. I think Gregory tried to say something in his defence, but all he could do was spit a glob of blood onto the floor, a tooth very soon following after.
"Now here's what's going to happen. We're going to beat you senseless. We will then throw you on your ass into an alley. And you will never approach this building or its employees ever again. Agreed?" I questioned him, removing my suit jacket and hanging it up on a tall box just behind me. He began stuttering, shaking in his seat.
"W-wait, just, just a minute please!" He begged.
"I'll just assume that you agree. Grover." Smack!
I should have expected this. Smack!
We've been sailing too smoothly for too long. Crunch!
Those beepers were a brilliant idea.
"AaAaAAaAGh!!"
I think I'll give Militia a day or 2 off, let her relax after the whole incident.
Smack-smack-smack!
"Grover, do you think I should get Militia a little something, as a sort of sorry for allowing this to happen?" I wondered, brushing my hair back with a blood soaked hand. Grover hummed in thought, kicking another tooth away from his boot.
"Maybe. I think something like a spa day would be more appropriate though," he considered, "A day to herself may be more helpful than a normal, tangible gift."
"Yeah, that's true. Probably give Melanie a day off too, so they can go together. Probably be more comfortable for both of them that way," I added.
"Ffgh, pl-pleashe, I'll shtay away! AaAAaAaaaGh!"
Smack-crunch-squelch!
"Ah shit, my bad boss," Grover apologised. Sighing, I waved off his apology, squinting my eyelids shut to keep the red out of my eyes. Gregory's face was a pulverised mess, both eyes blackened and squeezed shut by the swelling, his nose bent at a very odd angle, to say nothing of the three missing teeth. Grover had given Gregory a vicious backhand that had sent a spray of blood right into my eyes.
"Tell you what, finish up here would you? Keep it up for a few more minutes then toss him out. I'm gonna get cleaned up," I commanded. An obedient employee, Grover grabbed the back of Gregory's chair and dragged him off to a lonesome corner. I imagined this would be the last I ever saw of Gregory.
Fine with me.
Luckily I had the forethought to include a few hidden passages connecting the House. There was one that led from the storage room all the way to a hidden washroom. This specific washroom couldn't be accessed anywhere else, and rather than a shower it really only included a sink, towels, soap and a sponge. I had put it here for situations just like this.
Sighing, I watched the crimson liquid flow into the sink, carried by the water to parts unknown. Washing my hands, I lathered them in the soap, cleaning every inch of my digits and palm, all the way up to the middle of my forearm. I then drenched a face towel and got to washing my face.
Groaning, I eyed myself in the mirror, judging the reflection critically. Were those black circles under my eyes always there, or was I just imagining things? Did my dark brown hair appear unkempt and messy to everyone, or was it just a byproduct of beating some moron within an inch of his life?
And was I always so numb to brutally wounding a man, or did at some point, the action of spilling blood affect me in some way?
Sighing, I figured that I was unlikely to find answers in my reflection, so instead I finished washing myself and made my way back to the main dining room. For a second I worried that I might have some red spilled on my white button up shirt, but then remembered that I had hung my jacket up somewhere in the storage room.
Returning to said room, I saw that Grover and Gregory were both gone, Grover likely having thrown Gregory out on his ass at some point between my leaving for the washroom and my return to storage.
Finding my jacket on the box that I left it, I slipped it back on and inspected myself on a slightly dusty silver platter. You'd never even know I had just tortured a guy.
Alright, enough of that. First stop, dressing room.
Shaking off morose thoughts of blood and men tied down to chairs, I strutted across the dining room, giving Ozpin and his entourage a polite nod as I passed them. I would sit back with them soon, just after I checked on Militia.
Making a beeline for the dressing room, I passed by Neo, who raised an eyebrow at me, not seeing my departure to handle the situation. Oh yeah, I missed her performance. I gestured to her that we'll talk later.
She nodded, and went off to mingle with customers, whilst I continued on my way to the dressing room.
Firstly, I knocked on the door, gently calling out that it was me. I heard a whispered conversation, before Glynda called me in.
She and Militia were sitting on a sofa, with the smaller girl snuggled up to the older woman's side. Blake was there too, and seemed to have been informed of the situation, as she too was sitting on the sofa, rubbing Militia's arm soothingly. I cleared my throat, taking a spare seat from where the mirrors were sat, and planted myself on it, facing the girls.
"Alright, well, firstly and most obviously, the misbehaving prick has been punished and forced out of the House. He's also received a lifetime ban, and was told in no uncertain terms that should he approach you or any of our other girls, then further punishment will be administered," I explained. Glynda seemed satisfied at that, likely exceptionally aggravated at the idea of anyone touching one of our girls in such a manner. Blake's eyes widened by the tiniest increment, before closing, as she nodded in understanding.
"Secondly, you and your sister will be given a day off. Just choose an activity you wanna do, water park, spa day, movies, whatever. Just go ahead and have a fun day, covered by the House," I further explained. Blake gave a slight smile, and gently shook Militia's shoulder in congratulations. Militia smiled at the prospect.
"Now, I'm not gonna ask if you're okay, cause that's a little stupid. Instead, how are you feeling? Do you need to go home early, or what?" I asked her. She sighed, brushing her hair from her face and raising her head to look at me.
"I'm feeling, well, kind of shitty. I've had to deal with idiot drunks before, but it always felt like shit doing so. I'm feeling glad that Rodriguez got there so quickly though," she answered.
"That's totally normal, dear. Just allow your emotions to settle down, and take care of yourself," Glynda advised, Blake and I both nodding our agreement.
Militia took a deep breath, and rested her head on Glynda's shoulder, seeming to lose all energy within 5 seconds.
"Listen, Militia dear. Just stay here with Glynda for the rest of your shift. Once you're feeling a little better, feel free to head up to my office and take a nap or something. As soon as Melanie is free, I'll explain the situation, and send her up as well. I'll keep a guard just outside the door if it'll help," I instructed her. She contemplated my words, before nodding, understanding.
"Can I just take a few minutes before I head back out, just to make sure that she'll be alright?" Blake asked, but Militia interjected before I could answer.
"Blake honey, I'll be fine with Glynda. Just go out there and get yourself paid, I'm sure that after this all of security will be on high alert for a while, so it'll be safe out there." Frowning, Blake looked to me, clearly wondering what to do. I stood, stretching my arms above my head, feeling older than usual.
"Take a couple minutes if you want Blake. And like Militia said, Grover has the rest of security extra aware for any signs of misbehaviour, but of course, keep the beeper ready. Just in case," I explained. With one last check on Militia, I finally exited the dressing room and made my way to the main foyer, slipping the metaphorical mask of the joyous businessman back on.
Play your part Franc.
'Dance, puppet, dance,
Feed the masses the reality they crave,
Do not shed your strings you wooden thing,
For one misstep could mean your grave.'