The man in black studied the stage with only passing interest. He had seen many of these... kinds of places in the past, and had never really had a taste for them. To be truthful, he scarcely saw the point. The only thing about this den of debauchery that interested him was the creature that strutted about playfully, if a tad warily, on it's stage. His concealed eyes followed her where ever she went, and he couldn't help but chuckle to himself when her gaze fell on him and she missed a step as a result.
Had he really done such a number on her to make her so nervous? Another chuckle forced his off kilter grin to broaden into a smirk, great billows of cigar smoke rolling out of his nostrils and slithering from the gaps between his teeth. I wonder... he thought as he tipped back on two legs, throwing his head back, the chair groaning in protest beneath his bulk, How would she react if I pulled her aside for a private dance? He took a massive draw from his cigar and ashed it's cherry red tip onto the carpet beside him.
The idiotic DJ was ranting and raving in that way DJ's at these places often do, and the man in black couldn't resist the urge to look at the stage one last time. His eyes, hidden as they were, still locked onto her's, the one he had come to see, and she stopped dead in her tracks, as if his gaze somehow paralyzed her. His chest shook in a silent chuckle and she came back to reality, collected her things and hurried off stage. Letting his head droop back, the man in black contemplated his next move as cigar smoke continued to roil in his lungs.
And then he heard it.
Only one word of the DJ's inane babble reached his ears, and even then he wasn't sure he heard it right.
Hilde?
A torrent of smoke escaped in one massive jet as the man in black sat forward in his chair. Could it be THAT Hilde? his mind raced. Watching the stage again, it was now that he realized the bouncer was aware of his presence and keeping tabs on him. No real danger, but it never paid to dismiss even small details. The anticipation made him bit giddy as he waited along with the crowd for the sequined curtain to part.
And then it did.
And there she was.
And the man in black could only laugh quietly as he read her lips. Now, this is quite a development, he thought.
At first, Hilde didn't move, even though her song had already started. Before he knew what he was doing, he found himself gesturing broadly to the statue of a girl as if to say "Don't stop on my account". With that, she jerked to life and began dancing shortly after.
She was hardly a poor dancer, but it was clear she was a novice as well. And if he had said that she wasn't at all attractive, he would have to confess himself a liar. But as pleasant as the view was, in the back of his thoughts he knew her presence had just made things a lot more complicated, and almost certainly more dangerous.
She continued to dance around one of the poles on stage, eyes closed. She must really have been desperate to find me, he thought, almost wistfully. Just then her eyes drifted partway open and met his as she grasped the pole in front of her and moved her hips in a sort of oval motion. He found himself clapping appreciatively in spite of himself, a stupid grin creasing the corner of his mouth, cigar clenched in his teeth.
Suddenly, he felt an icy gaze fall on him. He grudgingly looked away from the spectacle on stage and saw the source of the fell wind. "Cynderella", as she was apparently calling herself now, was staring at him beyond menacingly from the far end of the club. Hilde's pleasant display faded from memory and his face became hard. The headline act stared through him and there was anger in her gaze, but as always, it was not alone. Fear was there as well, so strong and rich he could taste it from here.
As she continued to seeth in his general direction, he motioned toward the stage with his head, then pointed first at Cynderella, then at Hilde on stage. Then he raised his eyebrows briskly and made a kissy face at Cynderella. Suddenly the fear was gone, and full blown rage replaced the other emotions as well. Her reaction forced him to laugh aloud, a great booming, rumbling laugh that shook the table. He leaned back, took a final drag from his cigar, ordered a rye whiskey from a passing waitress, and set his mind to the task of ignoring the enraged dancer across the room for the remainder of Hilde's most captivating dance.
His drink arrived and he downed it, ice and all. Quite the development, indeed.
