Roman Turin (lovemenot) wrote in schisms, @ 2019-03-11 21:49:00 |
|
|||
Laura liked to keep busy, especially when Caitlyn was away. So when she started working weekends at the Electric Room a few months ago, she knew this was the best place to be. She was used to working in quiet little hole in the wall bars, mostly inhabited by older regulars, friends of the staff, and people who worked nearby. It was low key and low drama, but also low on tips and high on ass kissing. When it go to the point where she was barely making any money at all, Laura finally admitted to herself that she needed something more, something that she could use to make ends meet, and a place where she didn’t feel like she was slowly dying. Despite coming across as a total bore, Laura actually fit in surprisingly well with the staff at the bar. She worked hard, was attentive to the customers, and never, ever mixed a bad drink. She definitely needed to learn to loosen up a bit, flash a smile here and there, act like she wasn’t on autopilot 24-7. Except that she was. Besides, Laura caught on quick that there were already a few shift flirts and she wasn’t one to try to compete. So instead, she took to wearing a more and more revealing clothing to earn more tips. Laura figured out long ago that sometimes a girl didn’t have to say a word, or even look at a guy, to get their attention and appreciation. Tonight, she was outfitted in black leather shorts and a very low cut black tank with a sheer hot pink lace top tossed over it, long dark waves pulled up into a high ponytail. She felt like she looked ridiculous, but once people started crowding the bar, she forgot all about her appearance and focused on pouring drinks and billing tabs. --- Club, bar, it did not much matter what one wore unless it was some dresscode place or extremely high prices and low tippers. At the Electric room, there was no dresscode most nights. The underground feeling of the intimate setting promoted the ‘without a care’ feel, unless there were private events and then it depended on the one paying the bill. Small bands played great acts most nights, except monday which had the best DJs in New York, and big names would come in renting the entire club for their afterparties where they would be the entertainment. Every person coming into Dream Midtown, to the Dream Hotel, wanted just that. The night was busy enough to pack the place, but not too busy as to have to pull the couches out for extra room. Longish hair styled to make it slightly spiky, Roman wore tight black jeans, giving remark to his own round behind from male or female, and a v-neck black shirt that hung loose at the collar to show more of the well taken care of body underneath. Abilities or not, Roman was not above wearing his own brand of enticing clothing for better tips without the effort of manipulation. A long silver chain hung around his neck with the pluto pendant prominently at the middle of his torso. Dark eyes caught Laura’s form. It had not taken much time to realize that the way she dressed changed depending on how much in tips she needed to get. It might have been easier to just stay dressed like that. Placing an order drink on the bar for his customer, Roman moved over to her. “You look exceptional tonight, but you might need to actually look like you recognize your customers,” Roman teased. --- “Excuse me?” While the words should have been tinged with offense, Laura honestly didn’t know what he was referring to. In her mind, she wasn’t so bad at this job, her customers never seemed to complain, and even without the revealing clothes she rarely got stiffed on some sort of tip, meager as it could be. She was pouring a drink when she spoke, and she didn’t look to her fellow bartender until the task was done and order delivered to the correct recipient. She looked down at her clothes and then back to Roman with a little frown. “Is it too much? Should I change?” Slipping behind him, she made her way to the other end of the counter to take an order for a customer who was already getting impatient despite not waiting more than a minute or two for attention. Laura figured if she really looked that bad, someone else would have said something first. But more likely than not, few people probably even noticed her. They weren’t here for her, they were here for the drinks and the music and the atmosphere. -- The comment was not meant to be offense, but then they had not been working together for very long. Roman literally got along with even the angriest of customers. When there was a hint towards a blow up, a moment near Roman and they would calm down. The way he worked meant that the customers were there for him, not just the music and atmosphere. Humans, mutants, few could resist his ‘charms’ when he used them against them. “A little much,” he laughed. Moving easily around the bar, he served up a few more drinks- not rushing himself or tending to more than he could handle. Yet every customer in his care never got impatient with him. “Gorgeous, don’t get me wrong. Just not your usual get-up.” Dark eyes locked onto the impatient customer who was already complaining about how long everything was taking. Her little black dress, overdone makeup, and expensive jewelry that was unnecessary for the theme of the night, cried out of self-importance. A smirk set into his lips. His mind looking over her hormones, increasing her serotonin levels, and then adding more favourable pheromones to the air to relax the crowd around the bar. “And you seem incredibly focused on the work.” He came up behind her, leaning against the sink for a moment. “You okay?” --- Laura had been the self-conscious type for a while now, so she didn’t take his comments as offensive. But she was already making a mental note to tone it down next time. She didn’t really want the attention, but she definitely needed the money. Maybe she could take on more shifts at the coffee shop. She assumed the bitchy girl in the black dress just calmed down when she got what she wanted, so Laura didn’t even think twice about the change in her demeanor. Depositing a few empties in the bin near the sink, Laura only glanced briefly to Roman but her tone was genuinely apologetic. “Sorry, I’ll go with my usual next time.” Turning to face the crowd again, she returned to action but responded to his question. “I’m fine. I’m always focused on work. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be? I don’t know about you, but they certainly don’t pay me to just stand around and look pretty.” -- Brows furrowed for a moment. “No need to apologize, Laura. I just believe everyone has a right to be themselves over the expectations of what they think others want to see.” Roman said it time and time again, and he did believe in his words, but he did not live by them- not really. He lost a lot of that personal identity development in the blacksite. The carefree nature is projected changed to whoever he was manipulating or around to make his abilities easier to comprehend in the minds of others. Roman laughed. “Oh? You didn’t apply for that job position when you got here? It’s very lucrative.” Roman turned to the closest customer, winked at them as he set down their drink, and was slid a very large tip in exchange. Some nights, not a lot of manipulation was needed, just a relaxing environment and people with large wallets. Higher levels of happiness meant higher desire to not skimp on a good tip while drinking. Most of the customers could afford it. The music thumped over the light conversation, not too loud on this particular night, the club was known for its more intimate setting that allowed for speciality acts and not destroying one's voice to speak over the bass beat. --- “That’s assuming people know themselves enough to be able to do that.” She hadn’t really intended for that to be her immediate response, but once it was out there, there was no taking it back. She shrugged a single shoulder and grabbed a rag to wipe up a spill on the counter. She was in constant movement, from the moment she stepped behind the bar until the last lights went out, she never stopped working. It was probably exhausting to watch. She glanced to Roman over her shoulder with a little smirk. “I think they’d already had a few people in that position. They wanted someone to do the dirty work of cleaning and keeping things running.” Again, the tone was neutral and didn’t match with the words that should have been filled with sarcasm. It was like she didn’t know how to talk to people. Because she didn’t. “How do you do it?” The question was vague, mostly because she was unsure if she wanted to venture down that line of conversation with someone she barely knew. --- A momentary pause came with her statement. Dark eyes fell in response, but recovered quickly. He moved out of her way for her to wipe down anywhere that she felt needed it. His movements were easy going and smooth, not nearly as exhausting as the fretting Laura did. The lack of sarcasm in the statement but smirk that went with it made Roman scoff. People that did not know how to talk to other people- especially those that worked in a job that required talking to people- were amusing. To Roman, he viewed those people as more innocent than most because in his experience those were the mutants pulled into the blacksite that were. His thick brow quirked at her question. “Do what?” He played as if he did not follow what she could be asking about. --- Counter cleaned, she went about checking on the bottles to see if anything needed refreshing. She glanced to him again briefly, her expression legitimately curious. “This, all of this.” She looked him over, as if it was obvious, but then clarified. “How are you so relaxed, so free and easy with things, with people? You don’t know any of these people, I assume, you don’t know what their intentions are. Granted, they all probably just want a drink and a good time, but still…” Laura finally allowed herself to stop for a moment, turning to him again. “Sorry. That sounded shitty of me. I didn’t mean it to. I just don’t know how to be like that. And it seems to be something positive, something people enjoy. Something that’s probably more beneficial than what I’ve got going on at the moment.” -- Everyone had their drinks for the moment, chatting, having a good time, and lost in their own conversation to listen in on the two bartenders. It was enough for a small breather and light discussion between coworkers. “Do you think you need to know their intentions to be free and easy with them?” It was mostly a rhetorical question. Roman shrugged, giving her a knowing smile. “If people only wanted a drink they would stay home and buy the alcohol for cheaper. They want to forget responsibility, enjoy some eye candy that knows what they’re doing when pouring a drink, and chat us up whenever possible.” He leaned closer to her. “I am a chatty type when I have to be. Strangers or not. They want to feel good and I make it that way.” It all seemed easy to him, no need for an entire college course on it. His smile grin larger, more flirtatious. A sparkle of mischief in his dark brown eyes. “I could give you some free lessons later.” ---- Folding her arms beneath her chest, a habit when she had nothing to keep her hands busy, Laura studied Roman warily. She had an immediate answer to his question, but didn’t share it. But he made a point, people did go out for more than just the alcohol. She just wasn’t one of those kinds of people, so it was easy to forget. When he leaned closer, she stiffed a bit but did not step back. She wasn’t afraid of him, but the proximity obviously made her uncomfortable. At the wolf’s grin, she just arched a brow. “How kind of you. I’m afraid I’m not a very good student. Never have been.” --- Roman could be cruel. His work as a Horseman meant that he had the capacity of great apathy. When she became stiff at his proximity it tugged at that other side, the lighter one that hid so deep within him that few ever found it- a cursed minotaur at the middle of the labyrinth shunned from the sun. Maybe it was because Delia had come back into his life that some of the walls had cracked, but that did not change his ability to complete missions even when innocents had to be used. “I’m a very good teacher though,” he laughed lightly, leaning back away from her. “You cross your arms, you close yourself off. You don’t need to be open to everyone, just look like you are.” He could make her relax if he wanted, direct the pheromones that engaged the crowd around the bar to fill the entire space. Turning toward a customer that signalled for another beer, Roman popped the cap and passed it over the counter. --- “I bet you are.” Laura just shook her head a little and turned her attention back to their job. Roman was already handling a customer, and Laura went about pouring a few refills here and there. As she worked, she considered his words seriously. She didn’t want to think about why it was such an uphill battle for her to just fucking relax every once in a while. Moving past him to toss a few empty bottles in the recycling, she made a little comment, unsure why she bothered to share. “I wasn’t always like this.” There was a time where she was worse, if that was even possible. But she was referring to a better time, when things felt easier. --- Dark eyes glanced over at her, several thoughts fluttering through his mind in response. “Neither was I,” he said quietly. The smile had slipped from his lips only to come back quickly as someone asked for ‘that one drink- oh what’s it called- you know that one with the coconut and it’s pink.’ Roman chuckled, nodding to the lady. “Yeah, sure. I’ve got you.” Mixing up a random drink that resembled about what she was might have expected without little care if it was the ‘one she was thinking about.’ They never actually knew the drink they were referencing. The best drinks were ones that the customers gave their favourite flavour and he mixed to create that opposed to something they drank twenty years prior at a bar in Los Angeles. A waiter/bartender, Sammy, came off the floor to give the two a break- something that never happened anywhere else but in that club. “Want to come out for a smoke with me?” Roman asked. --- Laura finished up cashing out a tab at the customer’s request, handing the man back his credit card. When only a dollar was left on the bar for a tab of four drinks, and nothing scribbled on the recipe other than the signature, she showed no reaction but her heart sank. Taking a deep breath, Laura left the money where it was and nodded to Roman’s offer. She usually hated taking a break, but maybe it would be good to step away for a few minutes. Thanking Sammy for the coverage, Laura slipped out from behind the bar and let Roman lead the way. While she stayed in step behind him, it was almost too easy for her to disappear in the crowd. The petite, dark haired woman didn’t mind being overlooked when beside the tall, young, beautiful, successful people who frequented a hot spot like this. In fact, she preferred it. --- Moving through the crowd, Roman looked as if he belonged amongst him. Hands reached out, grazing the skin of his arm, as he made his way toward the front entry- given the graffiti filled passage was the only designated smoking area away from the cold chill of the end of winter winds. ‘Hi’s and ‘We’ll be back in a bit’ and ‘I’ll see you laters’ were passed out to those inquiring on where he was off to, ignoring the shorter woman behind him. Roman reached back to run his hand over her shoulder to help her through the crowd when people pushed closer toward them, placing a signaling pheromone on her that would keep people from invading her space too much. Once outside, he let her have her space again. Pulling out a vape pen from his pocket, he winked at Laura. “Kind of an odd job choice for someone who doesn’t interact with people well. Though, I can say you put me to shame on your pours.” --- Laura didn’t exactly like being touched, but for someone so socially awkward, she handled it surprisingly well. Still, she was much happier to be out of the crowd and have the free space to move and breathe. Leaning up against the wall, she made a face as he pulled out a vape but said nothing. People didn’t smoke real cigarettes anymore, did they? At least a vape was not as tempting to her. She watched him curiously and then looked away with a little smirk. “I don’t exactly have a whole lot of marketable skills. But I’ve been doing this for long enough that I know how to make a good drink, and work fast enough to keep people from complaining much. It pays the bills. On a good day, anyway. I’d ask you why you got into bartending, but it seems to fit you like a glove.” Outside, away from the work and the crowd, Laura was not only visibly relaxed, but a bit more chatty than expected. -- He had real cigarettes in his coat, back in the back of the club where their stuff was stored, but the vape got less complaints from customers and the owners want for a ‘clean’ environment. Roman took up a space next to her, leaning his head back against the wall as he took in a drag from the vape and blew out a puff of smoke that smelled of blueberry muffins into the air above them. Brows quirked up in a visual shrug. “Bartending was easy money.” He looked over at her and laughed. “I don’t have a whole lot of marketable skills,” he repeated back at her. Honestly he did not have a documented education or background. His time in the blacksite had practically erased his entire existence and while he picked up a lot once out, he had not cared enough to somehow pay for a GED and go to college like his only friend had. “I only fit in because I’m a people person.” --- Laura wrinkled her nose at the scent. Not that she was averse to blueberry muffins, she just preferred the real thing to the artificial scent. She made a note to add blueberries to her grocery list, but she wasn’t sure how good they’d be this time of year. Looking down at the ground thoughtfully, she smirked. “You’ve got way more skills than you say. And I think you know it. Being a people person can get you a long way in a lot of different places. What do you do when you’re not the center of attention here?” --- Hunt down and kill people, responded a portion of his mind. Find others to distract him, came another thought from the darker portions. Try to sleep without nightmares of a past. Parties. Loneliness. A life split down the middle with no real meaning but an end goal given to him by some people who wanted to prove that mutants deserved to be feared and were not second to humans. All of that played in his thoughts briefly before he smiled back at her. “Oh, it does get me a long way, but usually for good tips.” A pause. “Usually the center of attention other places,” he teased. “What about you? What do you do when you’re not dressed up for our visual pleasure?” The comment came just as a drunk man- the one who had given he a bad tip- passed whistling at her, and suddenly found himself stumbling and falling into his friends as his insulin levels dropped for long enough for the alcohol to severely disorient him. --- Laura knew a purposely vague answer when she heard one, so she didn’t press any further. Dark eyes watched the man trip and fall, but her expression barely changed. She just stared at him blankly as he got up with help and slunk off in embarrassment. Turning her attention back to Roman, she smirked. “I work in a coffee shop. Same thing, just brighter lights, no alcohol, and shittier tips. Luckily my boss there likes me, so he hasn’t tried to get me to move on after years.” She’d been thinking more and more about it lately, how pathetic it was that she hadn’t really grown much in the last ten years or so. “Nothing glamorous, or even very lucrative. But the schedule is flexible enough that I can be there for my kid when she needs me.” Laura rarely talked about her daughter with people. Obviously he’d gained some amount of trust for Laura to mention her, even just in an offhand manner. -- To know that she did not speak of her daughter to just anyone would have been a little bit of a shock to Roman. He was not use to people having any trust in him that was not affected by his abilities to be made to trust him. Only Delia, really. He was sure Chrysalis members above him only trusted him enough to use him and those below him knew better than to trust him unless he forced them to. “You have a daughter?” He tilted his head in question. Parents made him uncomfortable on certain levels- mothers specifically- but Laura seemed nice for the moment. --- Laura nodded once, looking ahead at nothing much in particular. “During the week, at least.” Something random popped into her mind and she looked to him with a small, joking smile. “I bet you didn’t know I was a MILF.” Pushing off from the wall, she turned to face him again, folding her arms beneath her chest again out of habit. “I’m kind of old to be working in bars and clubs, but no one seems to mind much so far. But they say age is just a number, right?” Looking him over, she wasn’t sure exactly how old Roman was, but Laura had never been very good at guessing that sort of thing either. -- Clean shaven, Roman looked far younger than he actually was. He would say he had good genetics and maybe a touch of how his own hormones worked with his abilities helped that youthful appearance. “Age is a state of mind,” he offered. His brow quirked and a mischievous smirk played on his lips. “And no, I didn’t know you were a MILF, you were just a WILF before this moment.” Having noted the wrinkled nose at the smell of his vape, Roman had let it sit in his hand without taking another drag of it. “But now I have to worry a husband will beat me up for flirting with his wife.” --- At his comment, Laura laughed. It was a rare sound these days, but warm and positive. Something that didn’t quite fit with the persona he knew from inside the bar. Her smiled faded slowly though, and she just shook her head. “No need to worry about that. I’m not married. And my daughter’s father hates me, so I seriously doubt there would be any beatings to be worried about.” She ignored the comment about flirting. Even if he was flirting with her, which she seriously doubted, she probably wouldn’t have even realized it. Just more of that social awkwardness getting in the way. “What about you? Someone like you probably has a host of people obsessing over being with you.” --- Roman’s way of speech was flirting in and of itself. Few knew anything different from his mouth. “My fortune changes,” he remarked to her comment towards the father, trying to bring that smile and laugh back. A hum came in response. Roman shrugged. “I’m not ashamed to say that I enjoy the company of others.” A nice way of calling himself a bit of a whore. “Passion. Intimacy. It isn’t something to shun.” He winked at her. “But… if we are being honest with one another… I do have someone I love also. But we’re not limited to each other, so you have nothing to worry about.” --- Tilting her head to the side, Laura studied Roman as he spoke, a mix of confusion and amusement on his face. “Maybe for you it’s not something to shun. We’re not all so free and easy. Not that it’s a bad thing.” Turning, she looked around, just now noting that he’d stopped vaping. “No offense, but I won’t be worrying about your situation, open or not. It’s been so long, I would not be surprised if sex is totally different these days. Can virginity grow back?” -- That comment brought a genuine laugh to his lips, echoing down the corridor. “I don’t think so, since the concept of virginity is less scientific than people commonly believe.” His hidden talent for biological science and upbringing with a focus on it had given him a large knowledge base of many different odd facts. “Sex might be ten times better now.” His eyes traveled over her. “If you ever get curious, I would be willing to clear my schedule and make you dinner.” Whether she wanted to take the offer or not, did not matter. Roman was not about to use his abilities on her now. Though, he could make her relax a bit and be more open with customers so that she could get better tips. Or he could just manipulate the customers to be more willing to give her tips she deserved. -- Laura arched a brow slowly, curious about his comment about science. She could tell there was more to Roman than just being a flirt. But this conversation was far more than she had with most people, so she wasn’t about to push her luck by asking more. It seemed easier to stay on the topic, as ridiculous as it felt. “And what exactly is dinner code for?” She wasn’t really offended, but she also wasn’t taking him seriously at all. She assumed he was making fun of her, and she actually loosened up and just let it happen. “While I am a little bit better with people one-on-one, I think I’d have to pass up the offer for… whatever you’re offering. I’m not stupid enough to think that sex equals love, but…. If you have someone you care for, wouldn’t you prefer to be with them?” --- Roman opened his mouth, pausing after she asked the initial question. “Code for Dinner.” He laughed. It was that most people found his enjoyment of cooking to be the odd thing. He could not deny that they were right to suspect otherwise. A dark gaze that had dropped at her final question, lifted to hers once more, his head tilted to the side. “It’s complicated.” Now, Roman was being the less talkative one. He would have preferred to be with her as much as possible, but she was a weakness in his life too. To focus too much on her would be to give others a clue into that. It was better for him to go on as he usually did and distract himself in the laps of others. Turning the subject off of Delia, though, he shrugged, arching his back against the wall. “You don’t give your beauty enough credit, Laura.” The door to the club opened as the words ‘Last Call’ were yelled out from the bar. “We better get back in there. Maybe the last customers of the night will tip you better.” Roman had full intention to use his abilities to persuade them in such a way. --- Laura was amused by Roman’s response. She was sure there was more to it, but since she had no plans to pursue it, there was no point in asking anything further. When his expression changed, her smile faded to seriousness and she understood without him say more. “I get it. Love is a very complicated thing.” She thought about that every day, and regretted the things she’d said and done to lose it. Looking to the door and the voices from inside, she was already turning to go when he made the suggestion. Smirking, she shrugged, choosing to ignore the compliment (she didn’t believe it anyway), and focus back on the job at hand. “Maybe, but I’m not going to count on it. There’s always tomorrow to try again.” -- |