I shoulda never let you in
'Cause you got me face down
And don't take this personal
Raven, in a Victoria set: a black, lace bralette that enhanced her cleavage, with a matching ebony panty-thong. In addition, she had a black, mesh robe with flare sleeves draped from her shoulders, to the floor. Her appeal was combined with a pair of black, high-gloss ankle boots. Her makeup was somber and dreaded, a smeared eyeliner and mascara look with only sprinkles of highlight throughout.
A torrent of people had recently rushed in to see Rachel perform. Rightfully so, their faces were brimming with awe as she graced their presence.
She walks forward on the stage slowly, folding her body into a downcast embrace. She straightens her posture, running one hand across her chest, then she rolls her body as she holds herself again. Her face is rinsed in emotional exhaustion and anger.
But you're the worst
You know what you've done to me
And although it hurts I know
I just can't keep running away
Raven tosses her head back, smoothing her hand over her thick coils.
A man gets a hold of her leg and implores, "Just one chance, please. One."
"I suggest that you let me go." Raven deadpans, she was not in the mood for any of Scarlet's loose guests.
"Here, seven hundred. I've got a Tesla, a jacuzzi, and a king-sized bed to take you in—"
"Man, shut the hell up," Cube instantly wraps his arms around the man's throat and drags him backwards.
Raven lets her robe fall from her body, glides her feet towards the chair on the other end of the stage, and runs her fingers sensually on the apex of the seat. She revolves her hips in slow circles while lowering her body to the ground. She reverses the motion of her hips, dancing back to a full stance. She flips her body forward on the chair, and opens her legs gradually.
I don't need you, I don't need you
I don't need you, I don't need you
But I want you
Raven's hips grind softly on the chair as she holds her head with her hands, all while maintaining a grimace. She pulls her lip to a part with her fingers, and uses the same hand to trail down her body and across her inner thigh. She was transmuting her negative emotions into the lighter form of dance, and she was feeling it.
I don't mean to, I don't mean to
I don't mean to, I don't mean to
But I love you
Raven slides forward to the floor, off of the chair. An acute arch forms in her back as she splays her hands on the stage, and she rhythmically knocks her hips to the ground.
"What's with the impending broodiness?" Mr. Thatcher, who was watching Raven perform, asked Cube.
Cube cracked his knuckles, answering with a grunt "Punk ran away with her kid again,"
Country fresh eggs, so hot that they might as well be suns in the sky. Crisp bacon and life was so rich again, peppers and salts in such an opposition the contrast was artistic. Salads, a garden of fresh greens are blended with effervescent oranges, yellows, and reds, curds and jams so sweet; the flavor made customers' minds travel from the city to cottages. And of course, milk and icecream so well fused into the form of a milkshake, reality collided perfectly with a dream.
At this late night hour, the diner was scanty. A man with his cap lowered over his eyes walked in asking for a soft drink. There was an elderly man at a corner table diligently completing a crossword puzzle in the newspaper. A group of girls having fries and gossip at another seating.
The lights of the night blurred against the glass of Sunset Diner.
Theodore Cooper wasn't hard to spot out, he stood out like a sore thumb. A bookish appearance, rather. A slender man with soft, wreathing curls and umber-colored skin— he appeared no younger than twenty five. His eyes were full of light behind his glasses lenses. Cooper greeted Rachel with a toothy smile. He was standing up in the aisle (who knows for how long) holding a bouquet of claret, fragrant roses.
"For you, Ms. Roth," He hands the roses to Rachel in an adorable excitement. "What a pleasure to meet you."
"Oh, my," Rachel is shocked by his greeting. She couldn't recall a time in her life that someone got her flowers, except for on her wedding day, where that was a non-negotiable. "Thank you, likewise. Rachel is just fine."
"Oh, no. I am too infatuated with you."
Rachel's eyes had pressure behind them from the exhaustion of emotion and the activity of the club. She barely felt herself pulling together. She pronounces in a soft monotone. "Trust me, I am no one to be infatuated with. I'm just trying to make it in this world."
"If you were a surgeon or clerk I assure you I would feel the same way. Sit, please," He made sure she was seated before him.
Rachel awkwardly smiled as she waited for the dazed man to begin a conversation.
"I have to say, Ms. Roth, you've been putting on quite the show. I mean, your performance of Jhené Aiko's The Worst was a spectacle. Not to endorse comparison, but a lot of the runs I see, those girls are overly provocative. There is something graceful about the way you perform. The emotion you display, and the cohesiveness in how you move your body. Your presence is to be treated with utmost courtesy. But, I will leave my words of sweet nothings for a future time,"
Mr. Cooper spoke so properly, it was like he was cut from a fabric of Shakespearan vernacular. The rhetoric made Rachel wonder if he time-traveled from a couple of centuries ago, into the present time.
"I am all business. I might be able to help you regain custody of your daughter."
"How so?"
"I recognized the man that attacked the poor guy with the bottle the other night. The assailant was Bill Cypress, the mayor of New York City."
A waitress kindly interrupts, introduces herself, and asks for orders. Cooper orders a bacon cheeseburger with a side of fries, and pink lemonade. Rachel settles with waffles, scrambled eggs, and hashed browns. She liked the idea of having a breakfast meal later in the day. She also ordered a vanilla milkshake.
"No way!" Rachel is stunned by the fact. "Everything was moving so fast I didn't even notice that it was him."
Theodore appeared to be a daze when he talked, but nonetheless he had sharp focus on the task at hand. "Indeed, it is. My plan is to get in touch with the mayor and to let him do all the work. I am certain Mayor Cypress will listen to me due to the fact that I have some information up my arsenal. Cypress will talk to Judge Alcarez, and persuade the judge to tip the case in your favor."
Rachel was flabbergasted once more.
She wasn't expecting such a young, nerdy looking man to present himself as manipulative. Though, here one was, willing to risk it all to see Rachel have all that her heart desires.
"Listen, Theodore. I really appreciate all the support you've given me since I started here, but, I don't think you should get involved in–"
"Just give me one week. I can promise you that I can get all of these matters resolved."
Rachel thinks of the ratio. She had about nine weeks to spare with this case, and to possibly have it erased in about a week and change would be an absolute miracle. Besides, Theodore seemed reliable. He was unusually erudite, mannerable, and love-struck for the New Yorker average, but he earned her trust for the name of justice.
Rachel confirms with a tender smile. "I accept your offer. Is there any way I can compensate you for this? This is a big deal. To put it simply, you are intending the return of my child. I don't know if you have kids or not, but children are everything to their parents. You can take away the money, the car, the house — but once you take away someone's kid, their world is shattered."
Theodore's eyes dull, and his mouth curves into a scheming grin. The look was almost fatal. "Ms. Roth, I can assure you that you deserve the world all in one piece, and more."