Re: Eleventh floor and heading down
The full moon was the last thing on James' mind considering the chaos of recent days. Management at the club was in shambles after a couple bank accounts got emptied for the owner's drug habits. The IRS pegged a couple of girls for tax evasion, the bartenders walked out one after the other on last Tuesday. Somehow, at twenty-three, James had become a senior dancer and one of the few actually capable of pulling things together. She hired new girls and was interviewing bartenders, she bailed one of the bouncers out of jail, and barely found time to dance in between.
Funny, she'd thought the whole point of becoming a stripper was for a lack of responsibility.
By the time midnight rolled around, she was scaling the stairs. The elevator hadn't even been approached for the trouble it would inevitably be worth, and despite her exhaustion, she made for the stairwell.
If tonight was the full moon, she did not know it. She hadn't been on the forum very much as of late, and Lotte certainly hadn't made any mention of it. The transition was seamless, and greatly unnoticed. One minute she was James, tiredly dragging herself from one flight to the next. One minute she was in denim cut-offs.. and the next, pale, flouncy tulle was spilling down her knees. Her pace went from achey to vibrant, posture that was once slouched with exhaustion was suddenly ballerina stern.
Meg lost track of which set of stairs she was on, but it wasn't a worry. Christine was upstairs somewhere, she knew, and she skipped onto the next landing.