Chapter 4
Arnie
The street and club are quiet since its hours before opening.
Mags works and co-owns Corricks, a gay bar in the city.
One of the most popular ones, too. Hidden down a little cobbled lane with private parking around the back, it’s a hidden gem and a haven for anyone and everyone.
Even huge, tattooed goth guys. We still need to let off steam now and again, too.
Mags is standing at the back entrance when I meet him there, eyes red rimmed and wet with fresh tears.
“What happened? Are you okay? Do I need to break someone’s face?”
I look around, but there’s no one here but us. He shakes his head, but when I don’t speak, he finally breaks his silence.
“I’m going to be out of a job! The bar across from us has been bought over, and it’s now a male dancing club. I can’t believe it, Arnie. We will be out of business, and I’ll have to go back to bartending!” He threw his manicured hands in the air in exasperation.
Okay, so it was an over-dramatic Mags today.
“It’s fine Mags, isn’t there like two already in the city? Just go over and say hi to them. I’m sure the new owners are decent people. They wouldn’t be trying to put a gay bar out of business, not when their business relies on us going there and throwing money at the hot dancers.”
I threw a smile at him and nudged him with my elbow. When he finally cracks a smile, I tug at his tiny frame until he turns for a bear hug and stays there for a beat until he’s calm.
“You’re right. Why am I so dramatic? Will you come with me? They don’t open for a while, so are you okay to stay and hang out? I’m not dragging you away from anything or anyone, am I?”
He batters his lashes at me, but I know he’s fishing for information. Mags, now happy with the guy of his dreams, has decided that everyone needs to find their person. It must be my turn for his mother hen routine.
“Just tutoring a new guy,” I say, but it doesn’t matter how casually I deliver it, Mags is already clasping his hands and jumping.
“Yes, yes, yes. Can I meet him? Is he your usual type? Details, please. In fact, let’s go to the office, and I’ll get us drinks so you can give me the long version.”
I roll my eyes but laugh and follow Mags inside where we go up the stairs to the office.
Mags was born in Hong Kong but ended up here in the foster system at the same time as me. We’ve always had each other’s backs, even living together before he met Gerry. Then they fell in love before opening Corrick’s together.
As we settle with our cold beers that Mags grabbed us, he immediately asks who Jamie is. It’s not that I don’t want to tell him who he is, but it’s too soon to know if Jamie’s interested in what I will be offering.
Although I know I am, I’m dying to see where correction leads with him. Until he sends back the questionnaire, I won’t know if he is interested or capable of coping with my methods. He will come willingly, though he just might not be aware of it yet.
“His name is Jamie. He’s just a little shorter than me, dirty blond curls, looks like a hot mess in giant’s clothing.”
I chuckled as I thought back to that train wreck outfit he had on earlier at the library.
I should probably message the boy and apologise about rushing out of our session. He might not actually be paying me; a white lie I only told him so he would take his studies seriously. Still, I want to avoid getting a bad reputation for being unprofessional.
Mags is nodding at me starry-eyed, and I can see where he is going to go from that look alone.
“No, Mags, he’s just a student, this one. As much as I need laid, it’s disciplinary only.”
“Yeah, but you’ve never described one of them to me before as a hot mess, and now I’m intrigued.”
He flips his long black hair over his shoulder and leans into me.
“Get yours, Arnie, God knows you’re wound tight most of the time. Let loose, I say!”
He swirls in his husband's office chair with his hands in the air, and I can’t help but laugh along with him.
Jamie is hot, but he’s a lot of work, and I can’t kick off training him if I try to sleep with him first. Rule number one: don’t sleep with your student before you tan their ass raw in a disciplinary scene. With the consent of both parties.
We chat a little longer about what Mags and Gerry have been up to and how the bar has been before Mags slams his fist down with renewed seriousness.
“Right, let’s go meet the new neighbours. Maybe they’ll be lovely and pleasant and won’t steal all our customers,” he tells me in his most sarcastic tone.
I sigh but follow him down the steps and out into the cool night. Leaving through the way I came in, there're some workers smoking and having a break. They wave and say hello as we make our way around to the front of the cobbled street.
It’s dark now, and people have started down the little street, looking for a fun start to their night out. We cross to the new bar called Cheeks, and I open the door, letting Mags go first.
The large overhead lights are on, and there’s some bar staff unloading boxes to the left. It’s early evening, so they won’t be open yet. The stage is to the right where small cocktail tables surround it. It’s elegant and clean; it’ll look remarkable with the lights down low.
Having only been in gay bars, I’m not too sure how popular this will be. Maybe I’ll swing by for a glimpse of the eye candy once everything is sealed and done with Jamie. Especially to watch them use the gold pole in the centre of the stage.
We head over to the staff, and Mags introduces himself. I stand back a step or two since I’m basically just here as support and ‘the muscle’ as Mags keeps calling me. One of the guys behind the bar with a shaved head and vest on tells us he’ll grab the owner and takes off whistling.
We look around as we wait, and some other staff come and say hi. Apparently, they are all fans of Corricks and used to work across town at another venue. Some have offered to help with the opening night.
Mags gives them free drink vouchers for when their shift ends, which kicks off a wave of excited chatter.
An older, slim man appears around the corner and makes his way over with a smile.
Introductions between us both and shaking our hands proceeds.
Beau, the owner seems nice enough and is also a fan of Corricks.
It seems Mags was panicking over nothing.
Especially given the continued eye contact and handshake that lingers a beat too long when Mags is first introduced to the well-dressed man.
“Sorry about the wait there; we were just organising a last-minute rehearsal for one of our dancers. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.
Please do stay and watch. It won’t be as glamorous as it will be with the place packed, but it’ll be great all the same.
Jamie is outstanding,” Beau says as he makes his way to one of the round tables at the front where a waitress is already there with a drink for him.
“Did he just say Jamie?” I freeze, but Mags is already turning toward the stage with that Cheshire Cat grin of his. A deep, pulsing beat kicks in as the lights dim.
And then he struts out. Dripping in gold glitter.
Jamie.