Another Time - 2. Bryce

Hawk's Roost's port quarter wasn't bad all over. Compared to most other neighborhoods, it was a disaster, but even here there were better and worse corners. And besides, as is so often the case, it came down to what was on the inside.

The building Bryce headed for looked like any other from the outside. A run-down brick building, full of graffiti and boarded-up windows on the ground floor. The main entrance was barred, remnants of police tape still stuck in one corner, and with the stains, it was not hard to question whether it was rust or blood. The alley he turned into reeked of urine and all sorts of other filth, but if one knew such alleys, it was almost clean in comparison.

The door of the back entrance was also full of graffiti, a spiked-collared penis of great artistic merit smeared across the bell plate, but Bryce pressed a button, unperturbed.

"Who is it?"

"Bryce."

The answer was a long buzz accompanied by two clacks, then a jolt went through the door. Bryce pushed it open far enough for him to slip through, then forced it shut behind him. The double clack echoed behind him through the open stairwell as he skipped up the steps.

Up on the fourth floor, the stairwell door was only ajar, but he closed it behind him and then walked down the hall to another heavy door. 4-4-N was written on it, the only identification. Before he could knock, however, the door opened.

"Bryce, come on in, Ma made your favorite muffins." His cousin Sarah beamed at him and he grinned back. As almost always when he saw her, she was wearing some nerdy shirt- this time with a quote that made no sense to him- and fluffy green slippers to go with it.

"I smell it." He pushed the door shut behind him and inhaled deeply the scent of eggs and bacon, accompanied by spices and coffee. He removed his shoes and jacket, kissed Sarah on the cheek, then went into the kitchen. No one would probably expect it from the outside, but inside the house there were some beautiful apartments, like this one. Bright colors, indirect light, modern furniture. The windows had special film on them so you couldn't look in from the outside.

"Bryce, my goodness, you look tired." Aunt Bliss raised her brows and eyed him.

"Lots to do," Bryce returned with a shrug, kissing her on the cheek, too, before washing his hands in the sink. "Ma bought a new dancer," he told her over the rush of water. "Bad investment, if you ask me."

"Why?" Sarah wanted to know, retying her dark hair.

Aunt Bliss- her ma- placed two cups of coffee on the table.

"Because he's just not right for us. Externally for one thing, attitude-wise for another," Bryce explained. The hand towel was already uncomfortably damp. "And he seems pretty arrogant to me." And Ma had said he should have a talk with the guy, but he already suspected that wouldn't do much good.

Aunt Bliss merely sighed. Out of politeness she did ask, but actually she wanted nothing to do with her sister's business- Bryce's Ma. Still, it was important to her that Bryce had contact with his family, so she invited him over regularly.

And Bryce thoroughly enjoyed it. Especially that kind of late breakfast on the weekends. Muffins with eggs and bacon, coffee, rolls stuffed with cheese, the cold lemon chicken...

"Well," Sarah said, dropping into a chair, "not everyone is cut out for this kind of work."

"Of course not," Bryce replied, taking the bowl full of still-warm rolls from his aunt. "I'm also more saying that Ma made a bad decision. She shouldn't have bought him." He set the bowl on the table and sat down before grabbing a muffin and regretting it right away- the thing was boiling hot and burned his fingertips. He hissed in pain and just managed to drop the muffin on his plate.

Sarah laughed softly. "Idiot."

"Nerd."

She stuck her tongue out at him and he returned the gesture.

"How are Uncle Samuel and Barney doing? When's their ship coming home?" he then wanted to know, glancing at Aunt Bliss because Sarah was making a face. Like Bryce's Ma Bella, Sarah wanted to get out of the port quarters, which was understandable.

"It's all right," Aunt Bliss said with a thin smile. "They should be back in three weeks." Her husband and son both worked on the same cargo ship- and that wasn't something Sarah approved of.

Bryce nodded. He got along pretty well with his cousin Barney; neither of them had a clue about the computer stuff Sarah was into. Not that Bryce knew anything about ships, or that Barney knew much about cocktails and dancing, but they had a good rapport.

They talked for a while about this and that, skirting difficult topics like the fall election wholesale, and merely scratching other things cautiously. It was business as usual. Still, Bryce felt comfortable and welcome here, where he could relax, wasn't always just the boss's son.

"Ah, before I forget..." he said then, pulling a bill from his pocket. "From Senna. For getting her computer back up and running."

"Oh." Sarah blushed. "That wasn't necessary." She set her cup down, then hurried off to stash the money.

Bryce took advantage of the moment to pull a much thicker bundle from his other pocket and hand it to Aunt Bliss. Wordlessly, they nodded to each other. The sisters preferred to stay out of each other's way, but family still stuck together. Bella sent Bliss money so she wouldn't have to make any stupid deals with the Steel Sharks, in whose territory they lived, and so Sarah could live and study in decent housing. To get out of the port quarters.

~

The alley where the back entrance to the Playground was located was disgusting in the daylight and eerie at night. And yet they were in what was clearly a better neighborhood of Denser's Port. All the surrounding buildings had bars, restaurants, or stores of any kind on the ground floor, and the owners and often employees lived above them, because the area was too noisy for sweet families.

Bryce unlocked the two locks on the door and slid through, locking the door again behind him. The small room he now stood in was oppressive. The door straight ahead led to the Playground, the door on the right to a stairwell leading to the private apartment. Hastily, he tapped the two numerical codes into the lock and then hurried upstairs.

When he saw the fine furnishings, the flashing Bluetooth coffee machine, or the countless erotic photos and paintings on the walls, he mostly diverted his thoughts elsewhere. Away from the questions of where his ma, a poor girl from the port quarter of the neighboring town, had had the money to buy this nightclub. How she had managed to polish up the club's image in just a few years, until it was now a really hip place, with nearly two dozen slaves and even a real dance instructor. He didn't want to know, really.

Instead, he stowed the breakfast muffins and rolls he had brought with him, then headed down to the club. There were many shades of blue here, especially a strong sky blue that his ma liked to call light blue, accented with bright pink. When the big lights were on, it almost seemed tacky.

"Okay guys, this isn't going to work," he heard Senna, the trainer from the main room. "Tim, you're too slow. Elliot, your hands are flapping around too much."

Bryce walked over to them, but didn't interfere with the exercise, instead leaning against the bar, waiting. Not only did the main room have one, but so did the two adjoining rooms, and those who didn't dance in the evening had to mix cocktails, and vice versa. He preferred working the bar.

"Niall..." Senna had now reached the new addition. "You're not at the Dance of the Snowflakes here. There has to be energy on stage, powerful movements..."

Bryce grinned and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He'd heard Niall talk about having started dancing when he was only six, and that he'd been on some notable stages, but what Bryce had seen so far spoke otherwise. His grin grew even bigger when he saw Niall pout at Senna's words.

"Andros' balls, another round. And a little more effort this time, please.", Senna sighed and played the song, loud enough to be heard on stage, but quiet enough that the tapping of feet and hard breathing could be heard.

'Welcome to the Playground' was the club's theme song, taken from an old movie about the Rivan Mafia, and it started every show. Bryce could have described every move half asleep, and even caught himself at times starting to dance along behind the bar. The lyrics told a little story, the dancing matched it, was a clear invitation.

Six of the young men did what they were supposed to do. They lured the women with their bodies, with promises, stimulated the imagination.

Niall, on the other hand... floated across the stage like a stray snowflake, small and petite and pale and with eyes as gray as steel. If he'd been dressed in women's clothes, he probably wouldn't have stood out. He didn't fit into the Playground. Was a downright counterpoint to the masculine men around him.

The thought made Bryce pause in his amused grinning. Was this perhaps Ma's idea exactly? Create some contrast? Or cater to a different niche with this effeminate guy?

"Ten-minute break.", Senna finally called out, nodding for Miles and Phil to come along. If you didn't count Niall, the others all slipped behind the stage curtain into the rooms beyond.

Niall, on the other hand, walked slowly down the side steps and scowled at Bryce before unabashedly going behind the bar and getting a glass of water. "What are you looking at?" he wanted to know with hostility after a first sip.

"I'm thinking," Bryce replied calmly, leaning against the bar from the customer side.

Niall's pale brow lifted.

"Why my mother bought you, for instance."

"I'm a good dancer." Again, that damned arrogance.

"I don't see much of that so far." Bryce raised a brow as well. Perhaps his only commonality with Niall was the pallor of their hair.

Now, though, Niall snorted, oddly bitter. "I broke my ankle earlier this year. I should still be getting physical therapy instead of being back on stage already." This was news to Bryce.

"Did you tell them that?"

"Of course." Again Niall's face contorted, showing an unpleasant mixture of bitterness and disapproval. "Do you think anyone cares?"

That, on the other hand, didn't sound right, and Bryce frowned. His ma and Senna were very careful with the slaves; after all, the business was built on them. "Where were you before?"

"White Card." Niall replied rather reluctantly, pouring himself a refill of water. Even more reluctantly, he added: "I did mostly pole dancing and smaller special shows."

"Special shows as in sex on stage?"

With a strange sound, Niall spit his water around. "What?" he gasped. "The White Card is known for fancy dance shows. Great Mother, I am not a whore."

You're in for a rude awakening, Bryce thought, and his frown turned pitiful. The Playground was indeed a nightclub, with lots of booze and strip shows and music, but anyone who wanted to could retire to one of the playrooms with one of the guys. No one here wore a white whore collar, and to what extent his mother complied with the requirements on prostitution and its taxation was unknown to him, but that didn't change the fact that it was happening. Apparently no one had bothered to tell Niall about it yet.

They eyed each other.

"Niall, a word." Senna had returned unnoticed and now beckoned the newcomer over.

"Of course, miss."

Thoughtfully, Bryce watched the two of them, wondering whether he should tell Niall, whether his ma had meant 'talk to him' in that way.

~

"Welcome to the Playground, follow me..."

Bryce swayed his hips to the music, pushed a cocktail across the counter with his right hand and gestured to another customer to wait with his left. Beside him worked Otis, who hadn't broken a single glass and spilled only one drink in the last two hours- an absolute record- and Phil pranced through the crowd in front of the bar, laughing and flirting.

"Why don't you pull up a seat?"

The seven guys on stage were doing their thing.

Bryce was doing his. The dark jeans were comfortable enough that he could move smoothly in them for hours, but looked good enough that he didn't need to hide behind the bar. His black muscle shirt was cut wide enough and fit loosely enough that his nipples kept showing, flashing the piercing on his left side in the light.

"Stay for the night, I'll sell you a dream..."

There were enough women who came regularly enough to greet Bryce with a kiss on the cheek, or whom he knew well enough to let himself be kissed on the mouth.

Even Otis was greeted that way now and then, but it made him nervous, and after a kiss that definitely went beyond a simple greeting, he promptly dropped something and cursed.

Bryce didn't see what it was in the dim bar lighting, and instead nodded to the woman in front of him.

"A desert storm, but with ice!" she called over the last sounds of the song, and he nodded.

He was doing his job. It was fun. But his spirits were dampened when he saw the two poles for pole dancing extend from the floor of the stage. He'd talked to Ma, and he'd talked to Niall, and he didn't like what he'd heard.

Niall was still a virgin.

His Ma wanted to bring a new hot twist to the stage shows with the pale twink.

Since Niall tended to stand out negatively in the group choreographies, it had been ordered that he should devote his energies entirely to pole dancing, and he could actually do that fantastically, Bryce had to acknowledge that without envy. And as arrogant as the little shit was, Bryce also had enough compassion to give him a little warning.

To the appreciative cheers of the women, Niall danced on the pole and Bryce watched out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey..." Steve stepped up beside him, grabbing a shaker. "I'll relieve you."

"I will just take five minutes," Bryce returned.

Steve snorted. "Just to get through this crowd to him, it'll take you ten."

Bryce snorted back. "You know me. For me, the sea parts."

"Eh. And the thighs." Steve winked, Bryce grinned. "Seriously, do you think he can at least kiss?"

Unconcerned, Bryce shrugged and poured orange juice into his own shaker. He'd only told Steve about the plans, because Steve not only had experience with these man-on-man shows, but had a genuine interest in male bodies to boot. "I'll find out."

"Good luck."

Bryce nodded, finished his cocktail, slid it across the counter, then made his way to the stage. Countless hands stroked his body, some gentle, some greedy, but all interested. Unlike Niall, he was tall and muscular, had a masculine striking face with a genuine smile and such attracted women.

Arriving at the stage, he waited just long enough for Niall to give up his upside down position, then deftly jumped up, grabbed the pole and swung around on it once.

Countless expectant sounds came from the audience.

Niall, on the other hand, got wide-eyed.

"Play along.", Bryce hissed out between lips twisted into a predatory smile. He had warned him.

Still, Niall looked incredibly rattled, and it was probably a good thing he had the pole at his back, because that way he couldn't tip over.

With both hands, Bryce held onto the pole high above Niall's head before tilting his own and pressing his mouth down on Niall's. Full of hunger and greed he didn't feel.

The women didn't care, if the enthusiastic noises were to be believed.

A soft whimper came from Niall and he shivered, but he returned the kiss as best he could, which admittedly wasn't very good. Even that didn't seem to bother the women. At least it gave his lips and cheeks a little more natural color, Bryce thought, quietly amused, as he let go of Niall, who was clutching the pole behind him as if he would otherwise slump.

After a wink to the crowd, Bryce hopped off the stage and then once again fought his way back to the bar through the sea of women, who were now much more intrusive.

"Nice, my friend, real nice," Steve commented with a cheeky smile.

"Nice is the little sister of shitty.", Bryce returned with a smile, wiping a strand from his forehead and starting to wash glasses.

"You know what I mean." Steve grinned and nodded at a customer, then purred: "You sure you're not interested?"

"Sorry, buddy, but you got a little too much meaty mass south of the belt." He gave Steve a wink and an air kiss, and Steve laughed unconcernedly.

A nightclub might have been an unusual home, but he loved it here.