Low music deeply reverberated throughout the dimly lit confines of the hidden away Bloody Sunday night club. Scantily clad waitresses pranced among the tables, absently swatting away at roaming hands as they passed between the groups of patrons, joking and drinking while occasionally looking to the stage at the back of the club. Across from the bar, on the other side of a sparely populated dance floor and few lines of chairs was the show stage, currently in use by a buxom red haired woman in black lingerie and knee high heeled boots. She lustily twirled around a chrome pole center stage to the music, cheered on by a couple leather and jean clad men as they tossed slightly crumpled bills at her feet.
It was a young night and there were quite a few customers in house, in spite of the clubs somewhat secluded location. There was enough space, including the smoking space out back, to house well over fifty or so patrons, but it only ever really so ten or twelve. Tonight there were well over thirty drinkers and club goers. At the door, a tall dark skinned man with a shaved head in dark glasses and a blazer stood with his arms crossed looking on coldly as the young woman and those accompanying her passed through the inconspicuous entryway. Strangely, he didn't seem to acknowledge them, ask for identification, or get in their way at all. Instead he looked on, as if he was familiar with them. Or at least their kind. Black curtains ran over their heads as they passed into the club, the music hitting them like a wall of sound.
"Quite the showing today huh?" Asked a burly commoner to the club who sat upon a chrome and leather stool at the bar counter.
"Unfortunately, yea..." Replied a slightly apathetic voice from the other side. Filling a tall chilled glass with foamy auburn liquid, Soma sighed, favoring days with less patrons and less work. Setting the glass mug of beer down in front of the man at his bar, Soma briefly tugged at his vest and made sure his collar was straight. There was no dress code for the bartenders, especially considering the nature of the shows the club featured. However Soma just didn't feel right if wasn't dressed formally. "
UNfortunately? Don't you make more money when it's like this?" Asked the man before accepting the drink and taking a large swig.
"It's just more new faces you'll see on the back of your milk cartons next week..." Withdrawing the drink and letting off a belch, the man drew his sleeve across his face, wiping away a spot of foam on his upper lip before looking back at the bartender. "What?" Soma shook his head, grabbing a cloth and tending to a couple smudged mugs.
"I said I'm tired...it's been a long day." The man gave him a brief chuckle. "Ha! Preachin' to the quire...Why do you think I'm here?"
Suddenly Soma's attention drifted up to the doors as a someone with a familiar scent entered and found a booth just away from the crowd. Soma recognized the smell but couldn't get a good view of whoever it was through the crowds of customers and waitresses jostling between tables.
"What are they doing here of all places?" Asked Soma under his breath as he peered across the dim club. "Huh?" Asked the customer, lifting his drink for another go.
"It's nothing." Replied Soma sharply, moving to the other end of the counter. He rested his hands on the counter top, looking through the crowd observantly.
"I thought I worked far enough away...please don't be who I think it is..."