Page 12 of Knot All is Crystal
I can’t think of anything that sounds less sexy than laser tag.
I always forget what goes on down here. It’s easy to ignore it when I’m several floors up, pushing drugs to businessmen. The private pleasure dens below Prism have a little something for everyone. Tati works as a femme domme, helping the people who come to her explore their submissive sides. Outside of the dens, she’s funny, kind, and whip-smart. I have been on the receiving end of many of her lectures about the psychology behind domination.
“I’ll keep it in mind, but I was able to pay my power bill. They just can’t turn it back on until Monday.”
She leans against the wall, crossing her arms over her ample chest. “I’m sure if you told Kieran, he’d let you stay here.”
“I can’t owe Kieran anything else.” The idea of making myself vulnerable to him is too much for me to handle. “I’ll figure it out.”
“Okay, but he’s not that bad if you just talk to him.”
Tati came down here to seek a job after hearing whispers about the club. She has no idea who Kieran is or what he does, so she approaches a lot of this with a naivety that I envy.
I’m unsure how she hasn’t realized that her coworkers aren’t here of their own volition. Ignorance must really be bliss.
“I’ll think about it. And thanks for letting me borrow your station to get ready.” I pull her into a loose hug. I should try to maintain a friendship with her, but I barely have time to breathe, much less make friends.
Today’s tattoo pit stop is the one time and money luxury I allow myself.
Gage has grown so much as a tattoo artist since I first sat for him. He’s also really good at reading my moods and knows when I don’t want to talk. I appreciate that about the bearded, handsome Beta.
That, and the fact that he hasn’t pried into the why behind the tattoos.
I collect tonight’s wares from Ricky, who I suspect handles most of the drug operation for the Conglomerate, before heading to my station for the evening. The club doesn’t pick up until eleven, but because I cover the VIP area, I tend to get clients earlier as they finish whatever business deals they’re working on.
The nightclub portion of Prism is three stories high and open in the middle. VIP booths line the walls of the second and third floors. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, and colored lighting hits them, refracting light across the massive space and casting prisms throughout. The first floor is a dance floor broken up only by multiple bars.
My section is located on the third-floor back wall of the VIP area, also known as the high rollers’ area. This station is another reason why Kieran thinks he is spoiling me. Sure, I’m not running around the lower levels getting bumped into and covered with sticky drinks, but some nights, there is no one here, and I have to act as a floater for anyone who wants fizz.
My chance of getting tips goes to nearly nothing when that happens.
It’s like I’m constantly treading water. Something happens whenever I have a good night and get some tips. My car breaks down. Hannah needs new shoes. The water heater has broken down, and Eve has no money to repair it. Suddenly, the grand I made that night is now two hundred bucks.
I could move somewhere cheaper or get a roommate, but with my unusual hours and the nature of my work, I don’t want to bring someone else into my mess. I also don’t want to leave the nice neighborhood I’m in. It’s within walking distance of Eve’s place and safe.
I spend enough of my time feeling unsafe. I don’t want to feel that way when I sleep.
After counting the tabs, I store the box of fizz under my workstation at the back of the lounge.
Fizz.
It’s a stupid name for a very popular drug.
Called that because it carbonates any beverage you put it in, fizz is a euphoric party drug with a horrible crash. It’s said to imitate, on a small scale, the haze an Alpha goes into during a rut or an Omega enters during a heat.
It makes the user horny and uninhibited. That’s why everyone loves it.
I’ve seen hundreds of people use it, and for the most part, they end up close to fucking someone in minutes.
That brainless, hazy sensation from a heat isn’t awful. I can see why someone would want to use it as a party drug.
But then you crash and fall into a heavy depression. I recommend anyone who buys from me buy two doses, and they take half of one the following morning, a quarter at lunch, and another quarter that evening to wean themself off of it.
The ones who take me up on that offer always come back and buy more the following weekend. The others? Who knows if they recovered from their crash?
“Queenie,” Tyler, the Alpha who has worked beside me for two years as my bartender, says in greeting. He’s one of the employees of Prism who appears to know about the criminal ties to the Conglomerate and chooses to look the other way. “Looking cute! Are we expecting some businessmen tonight or something?”
It’s gross, but the more professional the men, the younger they want me to look. Puck and Kieran vet anyone in my section and pick out my outfit for the evening based on the clientele. This outfit only comes out a few times a year.
