Ch.1 Rogue
"Rogue! Two pints for table four please!," Vivian called out.
I rolled my eyes. At least she said please this time. All day she's been ordering me around like she's my boss, whereas I've actually been working at this club for two years and she's just banging the manager.
I like our manager, Carl. But he has terrible taste in women and when I 'kindly' told his new bang off she cried to the wrong person. No way was Carl going to do anything, I'm his best waitress/bartender AND emergency performer. Whenever the stage girls called in, I was the backup. I didn't mind going up on stage, it always made me some extra cash but I was no stripper.
Bliss Rain, the club that I work at is a small club that does pole dancing, burlesque, aerial and the occasional live music performances.
Filling up two pints of our in house beer, grabbing two napkins and two coasters I set off towards table four. Tonight was packed, it was the last Saturday of February and there was only a thirty dollar entrance fee tonight instead of fifty.
"Here ya are," I placed the coasters down and set the beers atop,"Anything else I can get you gentlemen?" I asked, setting the napkins on their table.
I looked up at the two men. They both were giant and burly, it was hard to tell just how tall they were because they were sitting but they could easily be over six feet tall. The man on my left had long chestnut brown hair, his eyes were the darkest brown I'd ever seen they looked almost black. He looked out of place, they both did. Most of the men that come through here are pale unattractive assholes but maybe this man that looked like Jason Mamoa but bigger, was also an ass.
The man across from him had short black hair and bright green eyes. Green eyes were so rare, I couldn't believe how beautiful they were. This man was every woman's wet dream, he was like Henry Cavil and an angel had a baby. Or maybe the devil, with the dangerous vibe this man was putting off.
"Cough, cough," Bigger Mamoa smiled up at me, "Sorry, do you know when the next performance starts?," he asked.
I looked away from Henry Cavil's child and looked towards the stage, it was empty. Marcy was supposed to be up there by now doing her aerial performance followed by her sister Darcy with her new burlesque number they'd choreographed together. I cocked my head over at the bar where Carl was, making immediate eye contact he clasped his hands together and silently begged for help.
I rolled my eyes, not again.
"Next performance is now," I replied and left the table.
