“You ok?” Knox frowns down at me in confusion.
“Yeah, just felt,” I pause for a second, not sure how to describe it, “weird.”
“You want to sit down”? he asks, concerned.
I try to give him a reassuring look. “No, no. I’m good. Let’s go. Show me your new stomping grounds, Mr. Head of Security.”
“I know, right? Who the fuck would’ve ever thought the trailer park boy who used to steal cigarettes would turn out to be head of security?” He laughs at his own fortune.
I can’t help but needle him. “Clearly, your boss is one fry short of a Happy Meal, giving you that kind of responsibility.”
“Hey now.” He nudges me and shoots me a side eye.
“I’m kidding. I’m proud of you, Knox. I really am.” I beam at him, happy he’s finally found his place.
“Thanks. It means a lot.” He pats his chest before motioning to a set of double doors ahead. “Alright, are you ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
As we make our way past the lobby, I pause to take it all in.
The walls match the dark brick of the building’s exterior, while large flickering sconces mimic candle light dancing on the walls. Crimson velvet drapes hang from ceiling to floor, hiding any light that might try to peek through the windows on the other side. Red LED lights twinkle through dark Victorian trim below the ceiling and black lights above make everything in the space glow. The atmosphere it creates feels like a scene right out of a vampire novel.
A large bar to my left, manned by three bartenders, features every type of liquor you can think of on illuminated shelves. Dark leather booths stretch across the opposite side of the bar, and black tables with Victorian-inspired silver molding and matching chairs “are scattered throughout the space. Even the wall art features gothic elements.
I look at Knox, and he’s smiling down at me. “Pretty sweet, isn’t it?”
It really is. This place feels different—the vibe, the energy, the pull. It gives me a sense of peace, like home.
Realizing I haven’t answered, I look at him, knowing my eyes are still full of wonder. “Yeah, you can say that alright.”
“Oh, wait until you see upstairs. That’s where Vix is. You’re gonna love this.” He takes my hand and pulls me to the elevator on the opposite end of where we entered.
Before the elevator even opens up, the bass of the music bleeds through the doors. Stepping out, this floor seems twice as large as the floor below, and the haunting remix rendition of “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” by Bauhaus consumes the space. The largedance floor is prominent as it takes up most of the room. Dark chains cascade from the ceiling, some low enough to grab on to. Panels of black metal fencing stretch what seems to be ten feet high, with gaps for people to get on and off the glowing, red-hued dance floor.
A stage in front of the dance floor is occupied by the DJ controlling tonight's mood. As patrons dance, their clothing pops in fluorescent coloring as the black lights from above illuminate the scene. The same dark aesthetic surrounds us on the walls, and the bar is on the right side with stools surrounding both sides. A few booths are tucked away on the left.
I take in the view and get closer to the stage. A roped-off winding staircase leads to a large balcony with rails of steel piping overlooking the dance floor.
“What’s that?” I shout towards Knox, pointing upstairs.
Knox looks up and waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, that’s the boss’ office. No one is permitted up there.”
Nodding in agreement, I say, “Ahh, makes sense. This place is crazy.”
Knox beams at me with approval. He guides me towards the bar where Vix is working. Holding my elbow, he leans down by my ear so I can hear him over the music. “Hey, I gotta get back, but Vix will hook you up with anything you need. My treat tonight.”
His grip tightens on my elbow, and I look up to see him glaring towards where Vix is leaning against the bar, her cleavage in full view as she puts on her best flirty grin at the few guys seated.
“Knooox.” I draw out in warning, “You know it’s not real, it’s a persona, so she gets good tips.”
He blinks, looking down at me. He takes one more look in their direction as his jaw ticks and his throat bobs.
“It doesn’t matter. She’s not mine, anyway.” He looks back down at me, and for a beat I can see the hurt in his eyes. He quickly changes his tone, and before I can protest, he continues.
“So glad you came tonight, Myssa,” he says, giving me a half hug and kissing my head. “Hopefully, we’ll see you more.”
“Thanks. Me too,” I return, but it almost falls on deaf ears as he swiftly walks back to the elevator. I watch him give Vix one more glance and steps in.
