Chapter 10
10
ERIC
Fr3n3my:
When I said no shows until next month it was for the planned shows.
Fr3n3my:
You missed your shifts last week. You are still expected to make an appearance and walk the floor even if you aren’t selected to perform on stage
Fr3n3my:
If you miss tonight, I’m taking you off the schedule and you lose your solos in the next show
Reading the texts from Clarence should make me feel something. I get to perform again. Maybe? This “selected to perform” bullshit is going to need some explanation. But all I feel is numb. My usual look, Miss Sassy Frass, is absolutely flawless and the patrons love her, but I don’t have the desire to put on the Sassy mask tonight. She’s chipper and friendly and just not what I can manage right now.
Maybe it’s time to try out the persona Lucky suggested for me when he first showed up…
I don’t even attempt to stop the smirk as I sit down at my vanity to transform from Eric a la roadkill to Bratney Bitch. I have about an hour to get the look I want and get there for the start of the show. The bruises from last Friday are finally faded enough that I don’t have to do too many layers of coverup. I finally don’t feel like a freak leaving my room. The rest of the guys have apparently accepted the word of the resident subs that I am fine.
I just wish it was really true. It’s getting harder and harder to keep pretending. Eric Mendleton is no more. I don’t know who I am anymore. So I paint on a character that isn’t conflicted. She isn’t confused about why her brain and body don’t work right. She isn’t terrified of waking up in a strange place because someone dared to tell her she couldn’t do something.
She is me for the night. As long as I can be her, I won’t fuck things up for everyone again.
Three hours later and I’m strutting my stuff around the floor of the Monarch Room while Cleo introduces Lizzerati as the next act. I wasn’t aware we were going back to the old way of deciding who would go on with a fucking sign-up sheet backstage. Had I known, I would have brought my ass down here to get glammed up instead of hiding away in my room until the last minute.
Oh well, at least the crowd tonight is better behaved than the last time I was here. Then again, the riffraff is usually turned away on the nights that Theo is on the door. I was surprised to see him since he usually works Saturdays at the club, but Clarence must have missed having his boy toy close by. At least the beefcake knows what I’m looking for when it comes to the clientele.
“Any prospects for me Teddy-boy?” I ask, sliding onto the stool next to the door while he stands outside on the stoop to smoke a cigarette. Technically, he should be ten feet away, but he only lights up when there’s no one outside waiting to get in and Cleo is backstage and can’t see that he’s not at his post.
“You know, my Clare Bear hates that you call me that, right?”
I wave his nonsense away. Of course, I know Clarence hates that I call his boyfriend by cutesy nicknames. It’s why I do it after all.
“That old queen needs to remove the stick from his ass. Or maybe you need to put yours up there more often?”
Theo starts hacking up a lung, and I wonder for the umpteenth time why the hell he still has that disgusting habit. I tried it. I was even a pack a day smoker for a few years as a big old middle finger to my father. Then, that happened and I couldn’t afford food, let alone cigarettes. I never picked it back up, not regularly anyways. Occasionally, I will have the urge strike, but the first hit tastes like licking an ash tray and it’s enough to make me stop. And yes, I have actually licked ashes for comparison because my brain is a fucked up place that demands some fucked up things of me sometimes .
“Brat,” he chokes out as he puts the cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe and pocketing the butt. At least he doesn’t litter.
“It’s Bratney Bitch,” I say with a flip of my wig. “Or at least that’s who I am tonight. So, back to my quest -ion, any prospects for me? I’m off in an hour and need to find a good fucking before I lose it on my roomies.”
“Speaking of Kink Manor, it looks like most of the gang is here again tonight,” he tells me and waves over to their usual table. “I think the new guy from the neighborhood, the professor, is still here somewhere as well, but he said he wasn’t staying after the show.”
I peer around the room and spot Lucky, Spencer, Eli, Jay, and Scott watching the show and laughing at Lizzerati’s antics. Tonight, she is trying out a new operatic act. It’s better than her recorder playing, that’s for damn sure.
I’m not seeing much that sparks my interest until my gaze reaches the bar. Tyson is flirting like his life depends on it to the point he’s looking rather pathetic. Yeah, most nights his tips do depend on it, but his actions are screaming of desperation. Ugh, I’m going to have to save this guy from the overzealous baby gay.
“I’m gonna walk the room,” I tell Theo as I head for the bar. “I might cut out early if this is as lively as things are going to get tonight. Boss-man can cut me for all I care at this point.”
I notice his confusion, but I have stopped giving a fuck. I don’t need this fucking job. I got enough money to live a couple lifetimes. I don’t need to be disrespected .
What I need is to get the fuck away from everyone and everything.
My boss is putting me in timeout like I’m a toddler because he couldn’t be bothered to be clear enough in his explanation last week about the shows. My roommates are fucking stalking me like I’m a walking time bomb. The only time I’ve had to myself over the past week that was longer than a half an hour is when I’m asleep, and I get the feeling that they’re checking up on me then as well.
I hate being a prisoner in my own home. I lived it for the first twenty one years of my life. I don’t need it now, as an almost twenty six year old.
Fuck…
Tomorrow is my birthday. That means Monday is…
Not going there.
I never get to celebrate my birthday. It’s time I push past… that event . I’m going to treat myself. I deserve to cut loose for a change,
Decision made, I saunter up to the bar.
“Ty-baby, get me a vodka tonic,” I say loud enough to pull his attention from the slightly uncomfortable looking man he was eyeing up. “And give that gentleman a free drink to make up for your pathetic attempts to flirt with someone who is clearly uninterested.”
The man turns to me with a nod and my heart stops. Well, not literally, but hot damn this man is like Heath Ledger and Karl Urban had a baby and oh my Dolly Parton blessings, I want him.
Now, I understand why Tyson was trying so hard. I would give my left testicle for a single night with him. Hell, take them both. From his sexy scruff to the hints of muscle under that tight white t-shirt, he is all man. And the hair? Sooooo fucking attractive to see a man wear his hair longer and not pull it into a freaking man bun to go out. The only thing that would top it would be if he wore glasses. I have a thing for guys with glasses. My first crush had crazy hair and glasses, and I guess I never really got over him.
But I’m not going there. Mattie is my distant past. He left me for a good reason. I heard through the salon gossip line with that he got engaged to a nice banker lady or something last year. That news officially crushed my heart, but I didn’t have it in me to be sad in front of the girls at the salon. I couldn’t risk it getting back to Ms. Sara that I go to the same salon as her. She’s the best lady I’ve ever met. I used to wish she was my mom, too.
“Thanks for the drink,” the man says pulling my thoughts away from the only man, well boy, I have ever let into my heart. “I didn’t see you up on the stage yet. I was just closing out my tab to head home for the night, but I wouldn’t want to miss a performance from someone as beautiful as you.”
Be still my fucking heart!
Or rather my libido. He looks like this AND he’s a smooth talker? I don’t know if I can have just a taste and leave it at that with this one.
“Well thank you for the compliment, Sweetie, but I’m not hitting the stage tonight. I was about to head out myself. ”
Tyson tries to interrupt, but I throw a bar towel at his head. I will not let him fuck this up for me. The man wasn’t interested in the young bartender, but there is something in his eyes that makes me want him in ways I have never wanted another man.
“Would you like to accompany poor little me back to my hotel room for the evening? Maybe have some coffee… Lewis?” I get his name from reading the credit card slip he’s signing. I suggest we meet there while wrapping my hands around his bicep, loving the fact that the strength I feel isn’t visible to the naked eye. Although, I certainly hope to see a lot of naked in my near future.
“I think I might enjoy that,” he says after only a slight hesitation. “I just have to tell the people I came with that I’m heading out. What hotel are you staying at?”