Madison "GAYCHAR #3423 LS HAS TO TOLERATE" Taylor (ex_madmadiso898) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-01-06 23:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-06-29 |
Mercy In You
Who: Madison and Reid
When: Monday 8pm | June 29th
Where: Shimmer
Warning: Bad language and violence
Reid was seated comfortably at the side of the stage, waiting. Xer was curled up on his lap, dozing happily, and the Earth Elemental was glad to see the animal getting some sleep. He had been on edge with all the demon attacks. Still, with Xer asleep, and no company to speak of, Reid found himself impatient and bored. His black lacquered nails drummed a little impatiently on the clean table while he watched the stage-hands set up for his performance. The poles needed to be cleaned off after the last dancer, the set needed to be put up. It was a lot of work, and over-all, the brunette was glad to be free of doing any of it. His hair was styled into thick black curls and beneath the Shirley Temple bangs, each eyelid bore a delicate smear of sparkling pink eye-shadow. His dress was a black Lolita, and his punk boots put him a few inches taller than normal. It was hard enough work looking so good, he couldn't very well ruin it by running around on stage, messing with lighting. He took a long and deliberate sip of his appletini, wishing the lighting staff would finish up their work so he could take his clothes off for all the nice, well paying men. He was distracted from this thought by the vibration of his cell phone against his fingers, and his gaze shot down. He recognized the number and the lighting up that occurred on his pale and youthful features was brilliant, vibrant. Snatching the phone up, Reid brought it to his ear, careful not to muss his hair. "Tonya! Oh good lord girrrl. I haven't heard from you in months!" The conversation was light, a little catty. They discussed their former pimp, the girls they had worked with, and Reid's new life. "Baby girl, let me tell you. I have the most wonderful boss. His name is Misha and honey... oh, he's a dream. Long red hair, that scottish brogue -- a brogue is an accent darling." He paused, listening, and laughed. "Baby, he is HUNG. I mean, I couldn't walk straight for days. I... oh lord, you have no idea. I've never slept with someone so passionate and considering. Damn." He continued on, detailing his sexual experience, and was so caught up in the conversation that he didn't notice that the lights had dimmed, the music had started playing. They were waiting for him to get on stage.
As though he'd come out of no where, Madison emerged from the shadows of the side of the stage, all long limbs clad in black leather and a dark scowl set in his eyes. He had his hair tied up into a messy ponytail, the look very much on purpose despite the way it seemed so spontaneous. There was nothing - however - about his expression that read any amount of humor or concern with his looks. He glared down at Reid and his fox familiar, waiting just behind him as though his shadow alone would be enough to gather attention. When it didn't, and he overheard a good portion of the conversation, Madison raised a hand up without warning and clapped his palm against Reid's loosely curled fist. The domino-style effect that came right after would have been perfect if it weren't for the scowl on Madison's face. The cell phone dropped from Reid's hand and fell into his martini glass, the liquid splashing upward -- and all over the stripper that was currently doing anything but what he was being paid for. "The fuck are you doing?" he hissed.
Reid spun around, his mouth falling open, apple martini dripping from the bangs of his laboriously curled hair. "That was my god damn phone!" His voice was shriller than he meant, but he was stunned. Not only had the smack hurt, (the side of his face was now throbbing), his eighty dollar phone was now soaking up all the apple and gin it possibly could. For a moment he could hear Tonya's voice crackling over the rim of the glass, but then the screen of the Razr went dark. He stood, reaching up to wipe some of the fluid off one cheek, and his white face-paint smeared with the touch. "That was fucking uncalled for Madison!" he chided, feeling anger well up in his chest. Madison was such a god damned bitch sometimes. Nothing like Misha, who was sweet and understanding, who appreciated Reid's advances and didn't react as though the idea of sleeping with the tiny goth was disgusting. "Look, I know you've been on your period for the last two months or so, but fuck. Really? You destroyed my god damned phone!" His hands went to his hips, his eyes blazing green fire as he shouted at his boss.
"I know that was your god-damned phone!" Madison shouted, immediately loud despite their surroundings behind the curtains. "And who the hell do you think you are, telling me what's uncalled for given what you were doing with your phone while you're supposed to be on stage?!" He was furious by now, staring angrily down into the face of one of the employees he had to tolerate on a day to day basis. He didn't hate everyone, but Reid got on his nerves more than most everyone else. "We've talked about this before!" he said. "I can't count on two hands how many times I've talked to you about this! Do you want to be fired, Reid?! I'm not above doing that if needed, sweetheart."
Reid stood on his toes, glowering at Madison, his lips set in a thin line. "I'm the best fucking dancer you have, Maddie, half the crowd comes for me, and you fucking know it!" He wanted to punch the older man -- it would have been appropriate to take his phone from him, or to tell him to get off it, but walking up and smashing an employee upside the head was definitely not protocol. "And this -- THIS--" He gestured to the phone on the table and then between himself and his boss. "--this has not happened before! I've been late for other reasons, but of all the dancers here? I'm the most reliable! So don't you fucking threaten my job Madison." He reached over, pushing one carefully painted finger against the bigger man's chest. "And since when is appropriate to smack an employee bitch? You're not my pimp -- he paid me better -- and you're hardly my boss! You come in, sulk about Misha dancing and fucking other people, bark some orders and take off to practice... whatever the hell it is you practice! Cutting yourself for all I know!" Xer was nipping at his ankle then, shouting at him to shut up, and he didn't spare his familiar a glance. "I could take you to the god damned better business bureau!" He was seething, eyes darkening with anger.
If the look on Madison's face could have worsened it would have. As it was he was about as far out on edge as was humanly possible, one step away from laying Reid flat on the floor. He reached out and snagged the danger by his shirt, bringing him close to snarl into his face: "Don't you fucking talk to me like that, you ungrateful little bitch! Maybe you're forgetting where you are, but this is my establishment and you're the one not doing your god damned job! The stage is over there, my friend, and as you may have noticed there's music on! Your music! Those horny bastards out there are waiting to see my best dancer, who was too busy talking on his cell phone about his fucking sex life and his other boss's cock to think properly! So unless you have something of any real value to contribute to this coversation you can consider it over!" Madison shoved Reid away from him, absolutely pushed past the point of patience. To be ridiculed and judged by an employee -- and one that had recently slept with Misha at that -- was unacceptable. "Bring it on, Reid! You give me a damn good reason you were on your phone instead of hanging off of that pole out there!"
Reid only heard part of Madison's rant -- his ears caught one line and latched on to it, not letting go. "You're fucking jealous." His green eyes widened in mock sympathy and understanding. "You're jealous that I got to sleep with Misha. He'll sleep with me, but not you. Huh." His features twisted slightly, as if to say "well isn't that strange?" and he put his hands up, looking up at Madison innocently. "I can't speak for Misha baby-doll. I mean, I understand, he's your roomie, and you probably just wuv him right to death, but... well, if he's not interested, then he's not interested." As if putting on a show, the brunette carefully tugged at the hem of his dress, adjusting it. "Maybe he just likes younger men. Don't get me wrong Maaaaddie, you pull bitchy crone off just fine, but maybe Misha wants someone cute and fun instead of brooding and violent." He shook his head, pseudo pity spilling across his face. This was a game he had played before, and he knew how to play it well. When you worked the streets of Detroit with predatory, crack hungry men and women, you learned to cut down to the quick, to dig low and dirty. "You poor thing, I can teach you how to suck cock properly. Maybe then he'll want you."
Right then and there, Madison wished he had spent his life practicing darker forms of magic, if only to strike Reid for the hurtful things he'd said. As it was, he couldn't rely on magic to do anything for him at the moment, and so he defaulted to fists. He had been in many fist fights in his life, had experienced many confrontations, and fought tooth and nail against countless gay-bashers. Knocking Reid down from his tiny pedestal wasn't going to be nearly as difficult as all of those things. "You little cunt," he hissed. It was the precursor to the first blow, one which came without warning -- aimed straight for Reid's decorated face.
Reid wasn't ready for the fist that flew into his face and for a stunned moment the brunette fell back, crashing against the wall with a yowl of pain. Sparks flew across his vision and for a moment there was only searing heat, a burn that ran along his cheekbone and surrounded his eye. "Fuck!" He clapped one hand to his face, pushing off the wall and then launching himself at Madison. Reid only stood at half of the brunette's height, but he was too angry to care about his disadvantage. His lithe body crashed into Madison and he clung, clawing and hitting. "You son of a bitch! You can't fucking hit me! You can't!" His voice was shrill, but his tiny fists left red marks along Madison's neck where they landed.
"Oh thank goodness you decided to join the fight," Madison taunted, immediately grabbing for the fists that were flying at him. He snarled, hands grasping too tightly, squeezing as hard as he dared. He didn't necessarily want to break Reid, especially given that he was still technically employed by him -- maybe. "Consider this a sick day and get your shitty little cum-smeared mouth out of my sight!" he snapped, yanking the smaller past him and to the floor. Madison moved forward to bring a heavy combat boot down onto the floor, the sound loud and meant to be threatening. "Get out!"
Reid lay on the floor for a long moment, stunned. He knew he had no place to be fighting with
his boss, a man who had been mostly tolerant (not kind, Reid got the feeling that Madison didn't like him very much at the best of times), and had provided him with a steady income. However, just as Read was starting to calm down, Madison added insult to injury, his filthy words startling new anger into the brunette. "Fuck you Madison! You had no god damned right to hit me! None!" Tears stung his vibrant green eyes and he shoved himself up onto his feet. "You can go fuck yourself! You've never fucking liked me and I don't understand why." He turned away, angry and upset and ashamed of himself.
Madison watched Reid as he left, standing with his hands folded together in front of him -- it was a means to an end, his own way of silently avoiding coming after Reid in an effort to throttle him. He cleared his voice and spoke again, telling the younger man with all the calmness of someone who hadn't just engaged in physical contact: "I do not extend my affections to those who have not earned it."
He sighed afterward, muttering a soft healing spell under his breath. Reid would begin to feel relief in a matter of minutes, his bruises fading away before they could be fully formed. In his eyes, Reid didn't deserve the relief... but Madison wasn't cold-hearted, and he knew he'd regret it later when Misha gave him an earful over this.
Reid was hardly outside the club before the tears started. The brunette man kicked off his platforms, eyes burning, and sat down on the curb. Xer padded up to him slowly, head cocked, eyes wide. He didn't speak, knowing better. The dark haired man started to feel all the worse about the things he said to Madison, embarrassed at himself. He was better than that, and worse, he actually liked Maddy. They didn't get along, but he still admired the older man. Crying hard now, Reid brought his knees to his chest and tried to calm down.
Madison waited until Reid had left the building to move. He signaled to the next dancer to fill in for Reid, the silence of his employees around him hanging as though it were on hooks around him, a shadowy veil that kept him separated. It was unbearable, the eyes and whispers following after him. Madison left the back of the stage and was joined by Jaxson as he walked, his mind a blank slate, a host for the terrible things Reid had said to him -- and for the images of the terrible things he'd done in turn.
He needed a drink. He needed to drown tonight out, let it gurgle and die -- and drift away.