4. Ember #2
“Nice to meet you, sunshine,” he replied, spinning me and making my dress fan out before handing me a mask of my own.
“I presume you read over things and understand this is required.” I frowned, shifting my camera as he turned and gestured for me to follow.
“I’d put it on now, before we walk in. It will ensure that no one will approach you. ”
“Is this really necessary?” I asked, slipping the mask on.
Kyrin laughed, deep and warm. “Yes.”
I didn’t respond as I followed him around the corner and past a wall that looked exactly like the others. The only difference was this side had a door that was bigger and a metal sign next to it with a large silver S, almost like a monogram.
Pulling open the dark door, we entered a small lobby—an area that definitely did not match the aesthetic outside.
The walls were actually cute, fitting the generic cookie cutter mold of an office.
Kyrin approached the desk I quickly realized was for registration.
A woman in a strapless dress sat behind it, her black hair hanging far below the medical mask she wore.
A light tapping sound came from her fingers as she moved them across her keyboard.
The sound stopped as soon as we entered, and her attention settled on me. “You must be the photographer.”
When I nodded, she asked for my ID before motioning to the keypad on the edge of her desk. “Please put in your birthdate and zip code.”
Punching in the numbers, I glanced over at Kyrin. “I draw the line at my social security number.”
Kyrin opened his mouth to respond, but it was the receptionist that spoke. “Cute and funny, I see why you hired her.”
Shaking his head at her comment, he tapped the pad. “Sounds like you're already looking for a membership card.” When I held his stare through my mask, he shrugged with one shoulder. “It’s just how we do things here. There’s no walk-ins and no exceptions to the rules, even for temps.”
Holding my tongue at that term, I looked back at the woman behind the desk. After a few seconds, she handed my ID back, and the door beside us buzzed. With a wink, she motioned toward the door. “Have fun, beautiful.”
As soon as it opened, the music from inside swallowed us.
I couldn’t see right away, but as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, it felt like my senses were hit all at once.
This wasn’t like Clove, where the subtle warm scents wrapped around me.
My entire body reacted the moment he opened that door, even my feet began to vibrate with the pulse in the floor, alive with the music.
My eyes moved quickly, making out different people who weaved within the shadows.
The door didn’t just open into another room—it opened into chaos.
Beautiful chaos cloaked in different forms of stimulation.
At first, it was the music that caught my attention—a seductive metal track layered with violin.
Next, the neon lights traced the floor, piercing through the low-hanging fog.
No matter where I looked, something else demanded my attention, pulling my gaze deeper into the club.
Everyone inside wore a mask, but for some, that was all they wore. Most were completely naked. Not only naked, but in the middle of various sexual acts.
Looking at everyone around me, I realized two things. One, I now understood why everything here revolved around privacy, including the masks. Two, I also knew why there had been no pictures in my research.
This was a sex club.
I had been hired to take pictures in a sex club.
I swallowed sharply as my gaze snagged on someone across the room, someone who had clearly been watching us.
Being one of the few people that was fully clothed, he wore a white mask like ours.
Leaning against a metal column next to a flight of stairs, his attention stayed set on us.
If not for the mask, I might not have noticed him at all.
Dressed in a black long sleeve with his arms folded across his chest, he nearly blended into the surroundings.
The more I focused, the more I made out his dark jeans and army boots.
My mind recalled the internet article I’d found, and somehow, with one-hundred percent certainty, I knew this had to be Silas.
His head dipped in acknowledgment before he turned toward the stairs and motioned for us to follow.
Kyrin moved before I did, obviously seeing the same instruction.
Grabbing my hand, he led us through the large crowd of people that filled the space.
Looking around us, I became hyper-aware of just how bright my outfit was to those around me.
Not only did I seem completely overdressed compared to the other guests, but my yellow dress stuck out like a sore thumb.
I suddenly felt like a streetlamp in a graveyard.
Was that why he had called me sunshine? Because of my dress?
I squeezed his hand to get his attention. “You could have told me there was a dress code,” I yelled over the music.
“I guess I didn’t want to scare you by saying clothes were optional here,” Kyrin replied, turning toward me and squeezing my hand back. “Besides, I’m not the one you should be saying that to. I like yellow.”
Even though his mask covered it, I knew he was smiling. It was that moment that I decided to stop caring about how I looked, since it was obvious that no one else here did.
The top of the stairs opened into an office resembling a penthouse.
Everything inside was immaculate, no stains, no impressions on the seats, nothing.
Every item had its place, as if nothing within the four walls had ever been moved.
I was immediately uncomfortable, especially with how sterile it felt.
There was no color—no life. The room reminded me of a hospital, or a prison.
A voice deeper than Kyrin’s pulled my attention toward the desk, where the man who had been watching us now stood.
“I want to make my expectations very clear. You were invited here tonight because we’re testing you on your skill.
We want the atmosphere captured. If you can do that, we’ll talk about the next steps.
” Pausing for only a slight second, he continued, “We’re looking for headshots and members in motion.
We want the masks—and what we offer here—to be the primary focus. Do you think you can handle that?”
I cocked my head to the side, stuck on the fact he hadn’t even introduced himself. Holding out my hand, I stepped toward him. “I’m willing to bet you’re Silas.”
He made no attempt to move. “And I’m willing to bet you don’t survive tonight.” Instead of shaking my hand, his head moved up and down slightly, like he was sizing me up. “The darkness here tends to destroy anything that it deems too bright.”
So, he was the one who had a problem with yellow. I pulled my hand back and straightened, making it clear he didn't intimidate me. “Is that what this club offers—what I’m supposed to capture? Darkness?”
Silas’s answer was immediate, his voice seeming to fill the space around us.
“What we offer here goes deeper than that. Our darkness is one that invades without you knowing, a slow kind of ruin. A type that eats at you until you're ready to admit exactly who you are. You don’t strike me as someone who would understand that.”
My eyes locked onto his mask as his words echoed inside my head. Each time I heard them, my anger rose. Who did this man think he was? “And you don’t strike me as a people person. Tell me—did you go with the masks because you're ashamed of your dick size? Is that what your whole attitude is about?”
When he answered, his response was to Kyrin.
“Huh. Color blind and childish, nice choice.” The words were dismissive, his tone bordering between disinterest and disgust. With his head inclined toward me, he continued.
“Are you sure you want to be responsible for her? There are a million other photographers we could use.”
The anger in me magnified, and I didn’t know whether I wanted to swing at him or just leave his presence altogether.
Steadying myself and the growing irritation, I responded with a clipped voice.
“No one is responsible for me.” Then, I softened my tone as I turned toward Kyrin. “Let’s just get started, yeah?”
Silas watched the interaction and scoffed as Kyrin let out a loud laugh. “Yeah, sunshine, let’s go.”
The repeated nickname was enough to push me over the edge, and I pointed my finger at him as he crossed the space in front of me. “Don’t call me that.”
Silas stepped around us, ignoring the interaction, and led us back to the main floor.
Exiting the stairs, I noticed a group of naked models lined along one of the walls.
I immediately knew they were waiting there for me.
I studied each of their bodies before turning to Silas, who seemed to already be watching me.
He was expecting me to fail.
A large smile formed beneath my mask as I faced the models. Looking around, I scoped out the areas around us and scanned for the best backgrounds.
Fuck him and his stupid darkness.
One by one, I took the model’s hands and repositioned them, gauging the light.
Within seconds, my instincts kicked in and several visions formed in my mind.
I began directing the women with silent gestures as the bass of the music picked up and thundered around us.
They followed my cues easily as I aimed the camera toward each of them and started shooting.
After checking quality with a few test shots, I angled myself to catch the fog and the gleam of leather props hanging behind them.
After a few simple poses, I encouraged them to move with each other instead.
Eventually, I pulled away from staging them and just observed from the side with my camera.
I’d just captured a few amazing close-ups when I heard an eruption of throaty moans nearby.