Who: Ares What: Ares contemplates his new club and begins sending out fliers about the job opportunities for his upcoming club/party. Where: Athens, The Antichrist When: June 19th, noon Rating: PG13 for language Status: Complete
Tony stood in the middle of the club that he was opening in a few days. Oh, it wasn't the first nightclub he'd opened. Far from it. But this would be the biggest to date. It was needed. A front. A cover. But more than that, it was a place to be seen.
To that end he wanted to make a splash with its opening. No, not a splash. He wanted to make a fucking tsunami.
Putting his hands behind his head, he stretched and looked up at the ceiling, panted black, it would get lost in the rafters, in the smoke. The bar was black marble, long and cold and flecked with white that would glow under the blacklights. The dance floor was black, too. Wood, stained to a flat black finish then sealed to preserve it as the hoped for hundreds of feet danced on it. There were a few tables, but not many. This wasn't a club for sitting, but for dancing.
The building, or rather the refinishing, was complete. It hadn't taken long, but then it usually didn't. After all, the mob paid well, but they had high expectations, and the construction industry understood that. Even here in Greece, apparently.
The building itself had once been a church. That had inspired the name, but the more he let it roll of his tongue, the more fitting it was. Because though they'd refinished the building, adding a bar along one wall, the blacklights, the dance floor where once the faithful had knelt in prayers, the confessionals had become phone booths, they'd kept the overdone religious atmosphere. The stain glass windows would be lit from outside, the colored light playing in patterns on the dancers within. The alter remained, although now it was shrouded in black and sported a cage for a dancer. There were several more cages, hung from the chains that had once supported sanctuary lamps. The dancers he hired would be in them, raised and lowered by the bouncer staff who would be dressed in all black with black monk robes. The dancers and other staff would be wearing considerably less.
What had been the choir loft was now a VIP lounge, the pews removed and replaced by couches the organ transformed and gutted into a smaller, though better equipped bar.
Yes, it had all come together nicely.
Now to staff it.
He took the fliers he'd had made up and gave them to one of his men. "Take them to the clubs around here and pass them out among the staff. Open interviews, starting tomorrow." The incentives he was paying and the fliers should mean he'd have the best of the best for a staff the night of the party, and other places would be sorely lacking making the impression of his club even better.
The man grunted, then nodded, turning and leaving the club.
Tony, smiling to himself wandered over to the bar and poured himself a drink in a brand new glass, taking a last look around.