Tables set? Check. Kitchens cooking away? Check. Wines ready? Check.
Grumbling women eyeing me balefully for making them learn etiquette and manners so that we can attend a Gala filled with dangerous sex mafia's and murderous pimps? Double check.
"Okay, I know this party isn't exactly popular among you girls. And I know you'd rather be doing a lot of other things," I started diplomatically. They gave me a sarcastic look that told me exactly what they thought about that.
"But I think this is necessary. Whichever 3 of you comes with will be poked and prodded, both by the other business owners and their dancers. Essentially you'll be tested," I continued. This caused a few raised eyebrows. Sitting at the head of the long table, I gestured to the plethora of utensils, plates and glasses of all sorts. Many of the girls eyed it all with disdain.
"What exactly do you mean when you say we'll be tested?" Ciel asked, tilting her head curiously. I shrugged, picking up a fine crystal wine glass and examining it.
"Testing might not be the best word for it, but it's still fairly accurate. They'll mostly be testing your ability to socialise. To see how you talk, how you walk, how you behave. That, and they'll essentially be trying to see what you're really like as a person," I explained, setting the glass down and facing the girls.
They hummed in thought, sharing concerned looks.
"And what about you? What will they be doing with you?" Neon asked.
"Essentially the same, except it'll be more like my intelligence. My business acumen, my ability to speak. And like you, they'll be wanting to see what I'm like as a person." That and see for any weaknesses in my ability to lead my business, but I'll save that little tidbit for later.
The fact I would be in a similar situation as them seemed to mollify them a little, likely because they didn't want to be the only ones getting put under a microscope.
"Okay boss, what're we starting with?" Militia asked, deciding to just get it done with.
"Well, to start with we'll be covering something at least a little interesting," I said. At that moment, a couple wait staff with wine exited the kitchen, placing the bottles on the table just in front of me. "Wine!"
'Ooooh's abound, as the girls peered at the bottles, interested.
"Alright, to start with the obvious; Wine was invented in Mistral a few hundred years ago, made from fermented grapes grown in vineyards. There's 3 types of wine, sorta. White wine, red wine and champagne," I said, grabbing a bottle of each and putting them forward for the girls to look at.
"What's the difference exactly?" Blake asked, peering at the champagne bottle with Melanie and Neo.
"Red wine is made with purple grapes. White wine is made with white grapes, and champagne is made with a special fermentation process. That process is why champagne bottles are so much thicker than wine bottles," I quickly explained, causing the girls to go 'ah' in surprise. Seeing the inevitable question, I quickly continued, "The fermentation process involves yeast and setting the bottles at an angle, causing carbonation."
They passed the bottles around for a bit, comparing the weights of the champagne with the red and white bottles.
"Soooo, what do we need to know about wine exactly?" Melanie asked as the girls handed the bottles back. Raising two bottles, I continued.
"Firstly, there are 6 big wine types, I'm sure you're familiar with at least a couple. Riesling, Sauvignon Blanc, and Chardonnay are white wines. Merlot, Pinot Noir, and Syrah are all red. Don't worry about those words, they're just the names of the grape breeds used to make the wine," I told them.
"Now if the bottle has something other than those 6 titles on them, don't panic. 99% of the time it's the name of the region in Mistral where the grapes were grown," I continued. Yeah, that surprised me too. Apparently so, however.
"Don't worry about opening the bottles yourselves. More often than not, it'll be opened either by a server, or if one of the business owners is at the table, they'll open it," Glynda added, walking down the length of the table, gently adjusting postures and removing elbows from the table top.
"Unless it's champagne bottles, then only have the server or a business owner do it. Opening champagne requires a little finesse," I told them, grabbing said bottle, and a champagne knife. Smoothly, I ran the knife against the neck of the bottle, sending the cork flying way off, with Glynda appearing by my side and catching the carbonation with a flute glass.
It was all very fancy.
"Moving on from that, there's also wine and food pairings. The general rule of thumb is, white wine with white meat and red wine with red meat. Desserts are a little nuanced, in that case, play 'follow the leader.' Check for one of the experienced dancers or a business owner and just choose what they choose," I continued, pouring champagne into some flute glasses and having them placed by a server next to each girl.
"Will we be interacting with other dancers a lot?" Yang asked, tentatively sipping at the drink, and humming thoughtfully at the taste.
"Most definitely. The Gala starts at about 9. You yourselves will arrive at about 9:30 or 10, and mingle with other guests accompanied by Mr Eclair. At 10:45 there'll be dinner, which will end at roughly 11:30, maybe 11:45. At 12, the 'Dancer's Union' will take place. You and every other dancer will head to another part of the grounds. There you'll socialise for an hour or two," Glynda explained, sipping at her drink with a practised grace.
"Uh, Neo asks, and 'what will actually happen at the Dancer's Union?'" Nebula said, speaking on behalf of the mute.
"Exactly as Glynda said; Socialise. Gossip, pick up some news, hear who's unhappy with their work and who's ecstatic. Now, at random intervals you'll likely see a few dancers be called away. They're likely being, ahem, borrowed by another business owner, with permission granted. This is a common practice at the Gala, but refusal to participate happens, and you won't have to worry about that," I assured them, seeing their tense shoulders ease up a little.
"Will you be having some fun with any other dancers?" Neon asked, her and the other girls minus Glynda all gaining surprised looks when I shook my head no.
"Nuh uh, I won't. It's generally considered that I can't reap any 'benefits' without putting something up for grabs, metaphorically speaking. Unless someone explicitly permits or offers me one of their dancers to have a night with, I won't be fooling around with anyone," I told them.
It was regarded as a sort of 'fair is fair' situation. If I wanted to have fun with a girl from another business, I had to offer one of the girls for a night as well. It could, however, sometimes be a dangerous offer. For the business owner or the girl. Dangerous for the girl, obviously, because a bad person may accidentally or purposefully kill her. Dangerous for the owner however because dancers have been used as assassins before. Classic plot, man goes with beautiful woman to a secluded place, they fool around, he's feeling good. And then BAM, she kills him while his guard is down.
"I have a question," Ciel asked, raising her hand much like if this was a classroom. I gestured for her to continue. "Why precisely do we need to attend? It wasn't really explained."
Ah, fair. Sipping my champagne, I hummed in thought.
"Well, there's a few reasons. Firstly, and I think I mentioned this, but we were invited by a Senior Judge and well known attendant; Ozpin. Us not attending would throw a pall on his reputation, which in turn would make him, if not outright hostile, very cold towards us. We do not want that!" I told them, stressing just how important it was that we keep on Ozpin's good side. We were way too small to go against him in any way. Even if we somehow, magically, were just as big as him, contention between us could lead to war in the streets. Literally.
"Secondly, it'll give all of us the opportunity for a little networking. These business owners can be exceptionally powerful, and having them as buddies could only help. Think about it, if we make friends with a really good business, they may keep us in mind if they oh so happen to run into too much stock taking up space. Or if we wanted to buy something, anything from them, they may give us a very fair price" I continued.
Running this place was a dream, but dreams were expensive. Finding a good price for good supplies could sometimes mean the difference between shutting down or keeping open.
"Plus you might be able to earn a few favours from some bigger players, right?" Melanie asked, causing me to nod emphatically.
"Okay, I think I see why we need to do this," Militia started, placing her glass on the table.
"Buuut?" I encouraged. She shrugged.
"But here's the real question; who's going with you?"
Eugh, room just got very tense. Finishing my drink, I placed the empty glass on the table, a serious expression.
"Okay, here's how I've worked it out. Only 2 people so far are exempt from being chosen. First is Glynda," I started, steepling my fingers thoughtfully, "After checking the rules she provided me, there's a funny little clause that says I can bring 1 security guard with me without them counting towards my guest count. Obviously I'm bringing Grover.
"With myself and Grover both gone I'll need someone to man the ship. Glynda is obviously the best choice for that, I trust her to keep this place in order while I'm gone."
Glynda blushed just a little, sipping her drink self consciously. The girls giggled, Neon and Nebula, who were both closest to her, gave her teasing pats in the back, congratulating her.
"The other girl is, quite simply, Neo," I continued. All eyes turned to the mute, who looked at me with a pout, flipping her hair in defiance. I best appease her quickly, "I know Neo, you're incredibly charming. This event will require a lot of socialising and, well, talking. I'm afraid we just won't have the ability to always speak for you, even with the scroll."
There were some understanding looks around, with Neo herself seeming to be mollified, if just a little. She still pouted at me, but at least didn't seem so annoyed.
Continuing on from that, the servers brought out the small dinner that the kitchen had made. Glynda stalked up and down the length of the table, gently correcting any mistakes she saw.
But as important as these lessons no doubtedly are, I can't keep them here all night, especially since we're technically closed.
"Thanks everyone, your bonus checks will be in the mail by the end of the week," I said, thanking the serving and wait staff who were packing up the makeshift dinner. A few waved, and got back to cleaning.
Turning on the spot, I headed off and to the dressing room. The girls were waiting there, probably with a few last questions regarding the Gala.
Knocking, the door was opened, the girls of course laid about their dressing room in various states of undress, not that I minded of course. Taking a seat, I crossed one leg over the other, asking the girls if they had any thoughts.
"I'm really not sure what to think. I mean I get why it's important to go, obviously, but it's really freaky, like we're stepping into the lion's den," Nebula said, receiving a chorus of agreement.
"I mean, at least we get Grover with us? If anything happens we can always go to him," Neon added, shrugging. They nodded a little at that, trusting that the head of security could handle any issues.
"Do you think we could take our beepers boss? I think that would make us feel way better about the situation," Yang asked. Humming in thought, I tried to mentally sift through the rules, trying to remember if there's any rule against anything like our beepers.
"I think it'll be fine. I'd imagine that some of the other dancers may have a warning system too, if not all of them, at least a few. Go ahead, if nothing else, stuff them somewhere and keep them with you," I allowed, causing a cheer to run through the girls. Blake giggled, the sudden positivity wriggling it out of her. Yang waltzed up, and without preamble, sat on my lap, throwing her arms around my shoulders, giggling.
"See girls! Big Daddy Boss man loves us!" She cheered, laughter filling the dressing room as I sighed, amused. Neo, giggling, sat on the other side of my lap, kissing my cheek.
"Okay, okay, no need to be sappy. Look, when we go to the Gala, no matter what, if something happens, find myself or Grover, and we'll keep you safe, I promise," I swore, giving both girls on my lap a kiss on the forehead.
"D'awww, this big ol' softy," Neon joked, throwing herself over her chair, chuckling.
"He needs to be sweet so he can get in our pants," Melanie playfully argued, tossing her skirt at me, catching me right in the face as she went to put some new shorts on.
"Ha ha, you are all incredibly funny," I fake chuckled, removing the skirt from my face and letting it drop.
They joked a little more after that, with Yang and Neo getting up and getting back to changing.
"Besides all of that, do we have any business to conduct?" Ciel asked, stepping behind the folding wall and beginning to change, much like the others. She was just more private about it.
"I don't reckon so. We'll do a few more lessons with Glynda in the coming weeks. Not every day or anything, just once a week or so," I explained. They nodded, glad to only have to do the lessons once in a while.
"Actually, speaking of, where is Glynda?" Militia asked, noticing that their oldest member was missing.
"Ah, she was feeling tired and wanted to go home to rest," I told them.
"Glynda works hard doesn't she?" Ciel asked, walking out from behind the shoji wall and taking a seat next to me.
"Oh, definitely. She's been here since the beginning." And we've all been better off for it. Couldn't have done half the things I've done with this business if it weren't for her.
"How did you and Glynda meet?" Blake asked, leaning forward in her chair, mimicked by the girls around her. Scratching the back of my head, I chuckled in a slightly embarrassed manner.
"I dunno, it's not a particularly exciting tale," I deflected, only for them to groan, asking for me to continue.
"C'mon dad! Tell us how you and mummy met!" Nebula said, jokingly speaking in a child-like voice, mimicked by a few of the other girls. I raised my hands in surrender, giving in.
"Alright, alright. Damn children, pestering your father like that. Fine, I'll explain how we met," I told them, causing them to cheer excitedly. Neon, Yang and Neo even sat in front of me with their legs crossed, eager to hear the story.
Clearing my throat, I began.
"Alright. So, about 8 or 9 months ago now, I arrived in Vale by airship. I didn't have much to start with, just the warehouse that I bought online, and the very bare bones of the House you see around us. So, I decided to go out and find some other high class clubs, get some inspiration for this place.
So I'm waiting at a bar, just observing the place. I see some good things, like the lighting and dimensions of the room are superb! But I also see some bad things, like the placement of the bar making it difficult to enjoy the show, or just plain bad fire exits. They weren't safe." I started. The girls oooo'd at that, treating this whole thing much like a campfire story.
"And you saw her on stage or something?" Blake asked, but I shook my head.
"Nope. I finished up my business at the bar, paid my bill, and walked out the door. Just as I did, I bumped into, yes, Glynda. She was about to head inside with a resume looking for work. She had just left Beacon, and was out and about looking to grab an interview," I continue. They 'oooo'd at that, smiling and chuckling.
"So you, what? Offered the job? With nothing built of the House?" Ciel asked, incredulous.
"Does that not sound exactly like him?" Nebula argued, gesturing to me with rolled eyes and a smirk, causing me to let out an insulted 'hey!' Which just caused the girls to laugh.
"For your information, I did not immediately offer the job. I offered to buy her dinner first and then offered the job," I counter-argued, which didn't really help my case.
"What did she say when you showed her the House?" Neon asked, tilting her head curiously. I chuckled, scratching my cheek as I remembered that time.
"She called me insane and told me there was no way this was gonna work," I said.
"Neo asks how you managed to convince her," Melanie said, receiving a thumbs up from Neo as thanks.
"Simple! I didn't, not until months later. Actually, she still had some precautions about this place on the very day we opened. She signed on specifically because I offered really good pay and benefits for her employment and expertise. There was really no other reason." Shrugging, I looked over the girls, chuckling at their affronted expressions. They looked so let down. Blue balls given facial expression.
"That's it?! She signed up and put all this time and effort into the House because you paid her really well?" Militia exclaimed, flailing her arms above her head, absolutely insulted.
"Not every story has a complicated goal," a voice from the doorway to the dressing room said. Turning, we saw Glynda standing there, arms crossed. She didn't look amused.
"Well hey Glynda, I thought you were headed home?" I greeted.
"I was. I unfortunately forgot my handbag, which had my house keys," she explained. Blake held a hand up, likely with a question.
"So you took the risk to join on with a start up business, that you had no prior knowledge about and which you were given absolutely no certainty that it would succeed in the first place?" She asked. Well, when you put it like that it sounds stupid. Glynda shook her head, and sat down on my lap, much like Neon and Yang had just before.
"Well, I admit. I also found him a touch charming, Mr Eclair was and is much more charismatic and enjoyable to be around than your average strip club and adult dance business owner. What really convinced me however, was his willingness to establish a relationship of sorts with you girls," she explained, her fingers gently running through my hair.
"How do you mean exactly?" Ciel asked, tilting her head in curiosity. Glynda continued.
"Well, the main reason I had originally left the Beacon Lighthouse was because I felt that there was a disconnect between management and the dancers. With so many girls and comparatively few managers or directors, it felt impersonal. Mr Eclair's preference for a smaller number of performers and his establishing of a relationship helped endear him to me, I suppose."
D'aw, look at us. Glynda being all sweet and stuff. She was so pretty when she was like this. I couldn't help myself but to kiss her cheek.
The girls seemed to agree, cheering and clapping uproariously, which only made Glynda's cheeks redden slightly. Chuckling, I actually continued, cheered on by the girls, who seemed to enjoy the show. Well, who am I to refuse, as I continued to peck and kiss her cheek and neck. Now properly embarrassed, Glynda stood, and swatted at my shoulders reproachfully.
"Alright, that is enough. I am going home, I am pouring a glass of red, and I am watching my period dramas! Goodnight all of you. Except you Mr Eclair, I hope your pillow is filled with scorpions," she threatened, walking over to her locker and pulling out her handbag, giving me a final look of baleful reproach, before heading off and out. The girls had a good laugh at that.
"Well, I guess I'm in the doghouse now, aren't I?" I questioned aloud, the girls laughing at my contrite expression. I waved them off, finally standing. "Alright, whatever. So, who's wanting to come to dads house tonight?"
They stood too, chuckling and shaking their heads.
"Sorry Boss. I'm having Ruby live with me now, and I should get going. Gonna try and get her into an online course. Maybe some other time though," Yang excused, patting my shoulder. I shrugged, understanding. Fair's fair and all.
"Yeah, I'm afraid I'm busy too. Got a whooole day of workouts to do. Gotta keep the physique that you hired me for," Nebula joked, patting her midriff before grabbing her stuff as she too headed out.
And unfortunately for my libido, that was how it was tonight, the girls either busy or just not feeling it. Even Neo, who usually would be up for some fun, had stuff to do. Said that she had a lead she wanted to follow. I should be more proactive about that.
Ah well, not every night is successful.
Entering the cool night air, I stretched my arms above my head, enjoying the freeing feeling of a stiff breeze and the moon's light hitting my skin. I waved goodbye to the girls as they headed into cabs, driving services or headed to bus stops. I also saw Grover exit the building, giving a polite wave and a goodnight, which he reciprocated.
I entered my car and drove off down the road. I looked at a few houses as I passed by, wondering idly what the lives of the people who lived there were like. What was the word again? Sombre? No, that was a sort of sadness.
Sonder! That's it!
What was happening in each house or building I passed by? Did the family in the red two storey have an abusive dad? Were the residents of that grey house a couple that were expecting their first baby? Was the large building at the end of this street the future scene of a murder? Did that car belong to an old man who had served in a real life battlefield?
It was something that a lot of people didn't think about, but 99% of the population didn't fully understand the fact that they're not the main character. We're all side characters in each other's stories, besides that 1% of people who could genuinely be considered a protagonist of life. The explorers who got lost searching arctic regions and had to survive by eating human flesh. A soldier being wounded a dozen times, and continuing on with his military career. Scientists out in the field, studying an animal thought to be extinct, or even just nonexistent. Even I, with my exciting business and enigmatic personality (if I do say so myself) still wasn't really a protagonist, at least from my point of view.
Whatever, that was fine. I just wanna live how I want.
Parking my car, I stepped out of my vehicle, unlocking my door and stepping inside. Stepping into the main hall, I flipped the switch to the lights, only for everything to remain in darkness. Like a lightning strike, something suddenly seemed to feel wrong.
Now, when the lights apparently don't work, common sense dictates that you either just forgot your electricity bill, or something happened to your wiring. But my gut was telling me to take common sense and shove it.
My hand strayed to my suit jacket pocket, where the cold steel of knuckle dusters pressed against my skin. My house had a majority of hardwood floors, including the main hall. I listened for even the tiniest hint of a foot step, just the barest whisper of a sound that didn't belong.
I made a mental map of my house in mind. If I remember correctly, the distance between myself and my front door was less than 15 metres. I still had my keys in my pocket, but that would cost precious seconds.
A tiny creak sounded behind me. Fuck the plan.
Turning on the spot, I raised my fist back and struck forward, my knuckle duster hitting a figure right in there nose, a sick crack filling the hall. They dropped back, shocked and in pain.
A body slammed into me from behind, sending me stumbling. Fuck, 2 people.
Now on the floor, I saw my front door to my left, but a foot struck out of nowhere from my right, turning me over onto my back. 3 people. And now I'm dizzy.
I could see two people, wearing all black of course, standing above me, one leaning down to grab my shoulders. Fucking idiot.
POW! His head felt the might of my knuckle dusters, forcing him off me, as my foot struck out and hit the other guy in between the legs, doubling him over. I shuffled backwards, dragging myself to the door, staying on my back and keeping an eye on the 3, my head still hurting.
With a little distance between us, I slowly stood, using the wall to keep my balance. The 3 watched me, stances tense and a little pained. The pricks.
I removed the suit jacket and tie, both being bad to take a swing in, letting them fall to the floor.
Shit was very intense, the 3 staring at me, the guy I kicked in the balls seeming especially pissed.
Fuck I hate this silent shit.
"Well? C'mon then, I don't have all day!" I challenged, driven by a bit of fear and a fair amount of anger.
The guy that kicked my head charged, hands outstretched, only to meet my foot to his knee, which sent him down, at which I shoved my fist into his jaw. Hope that hurt, bitch!
Figure 2, who had sent me to the ground, rushed forward and grabbed my shirt, tossing my ass down the hall and into the kitchen area. I only managed to get up to one knee before Figure 1, whose nose I broke, tackled me, holding me with 1 arm and trying to smack his fist into my gut. I grabbed him in turn with my free hand, and tossed him for the side, directly into a wall, at which point Figure 3 punched me across the jaw.
Staggering back I raised my arms up defensively, face stinging like a mother fucker. I slowly stepped back and to one side, heading deeper into the kitchen, planning to use the kitchen island as an obstacle between us.
Figures 1 and 3 ran around it from opposite sides, trying to pincer me, while Figure 2 waited behind them. I jabbed, caught Figure 3 in the throat, his bud catching me and slamming me into the counter. I felt a punch hit me in the side, gritting my teeth. Reaching, my hand wrapped around a handle, and I swung, the pot that I had yet to wash bashing into his head, sending him to the ground.
Figure 2 had bided his time, and took the first opportunity he saw. He launched himself over the kitchen island and grabbed me by my shoulder and hair, tossing me down. My head hit a cupboard drawer, and I felt everything spin. Which way was up? Was there 3 people or was there now 9? I think that was just my eyes twirling in my head.
I felt Figure 2 grab me and hoist me up, 3 and 1 crowding around me.
"Fuck! That guy has a swing!" Figure 3 groused, grabbing my hand and removing the knuckle duster from my fist. Well, shit.
"Shut up and nurse your scratches. You!" Figure 2 exclaimed, pointing a finger at me, shaking me a little. "You got an invite to a very special party, but you're gonna politely fucking decline it, you fucking understand?!"
Ah, that made sense.
"Aaaaah, I see, the Flying Crane invite," I slurred, nodding drunkenly in understanding. I might have a concussion. Figure 3 punched me, and this time he punched me with my own weapon. I'm pretty sure I saw a tooth fly.
"Yeah, the invite. That fucking invite. The invite to a party you'll never go to, or we come back and bury you in your own fucking backyard!" Figure 1 threatened, the sentiment echoed when I felt a metal punch hit my teeth, again, and again, and again. I'm not even sure I totally felt the last couple, because I was feeling far too dizzy.
"You- you'gh wanna know shomghing funny?" I brokenly slurred, vision swimming, like I was looking up through a murky river. While a trio of crocodiles smacked me silly.
"What's that mother fucker, what's funny?!" Figure 3 said, punctuating his question with another punch to my jaw. I think my teeth were shattered.
"Easy you fucking moron, we ain't killing him now!" Figure 2 admonished. Figure 1 grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him.
"What's funny, asshole?" He asked, voice low and dangerous. For some reason I found it mildly amusing.
With all the last bit of might I could muster, I grabbed the knife block placed on my counter, that these fucking idiots had missed, and brought it down like a hammer on Figure 1, a twisted crack sound filling my ears. With quick but sore movements, I wrapped my fingers around the handle of a large steak knife and stabbed at whatever or whoever was closest, feeling the sharpened blade pierce flesh with little in the way of resistance. I heard the most bone chilling scream you could ever imagine, and felt more than saw the 3 figures run off, holding each other up as they left.
As I felt the door give way underneath me, I watched them struggle to exit my house, opening the back and stumbling their way out, bleeding and damaged.
Hah. Fuck them.
I hope someone calls an ambulance.