The guard nodded vaguely. He was distracted by the sight of his boss' boss, who was... toasting with the undesirable stalker. He got Verua's attention and pointed discreetly. "None of my business, but that's the weirdest way of showing someone the door I ever seen."

But Jarum, by the rail overlooking the dance floor, had his thoughts elsewhere. Although he hadn't let it show, and had waved her off as though it were of little import, Sasha's little interjection had distracted him from the matter at hand. His first instinct, though smoothly controlled, had been to run off and see Zuraeah. As he now lifted the glass and returned the toast with a glib "break a leg", he was already sprinting up the stairs and heading for the locker rooms in his mind.

To clear his thoughts, he turned his attentions back to Liquid. Unsurprisingly, the stalker had already done just that. There's nothing like a piece of gyrating ass to get your mind back on track.

Having sufficiently cleared his mind of worry, he once more addressed the mark. "Typically, we arrange private liaisons in the rooms here, but if you'd prefer to go deeper underground, we can arrange an armed escort into one of our quiet houses in the slums. We've bought up several strips of low-income housing, and refurbished the basements into luxurious little pleasure coves."

The lie came easily. Although he preferred to tell the truth, he was used to shelling out all sorts of lures for getting marks where he wanted them, when a need for delicacy precluded more direct means.

The longer she continued to sit there feeling sorry for herself, the longer she continued to play into Sasha's little game. Sasha had already taken the first steps to oust Zuraeah from the rest of girls; she had won the attention of the other girls, she had spread rumors, and she had even gone as far as to voice her false words of concern to Jarum. It wouldn't be long before they all turned on her.

What now might be words of concern would soon turn to comments of poor work performance uttered under the breath. The girls would waste no time in turning on one of their one if it meant that they all might take advantage of it. One or more of them would let themselves be heard whispering about her mistakes, another might mention that she has become sloppy or lazy or is hard to reach when needed, but the one that would do the most damage to her and her chances at keeping her job would be the one who brings her up as a side topic during pillow talk.

That was the it worked around the club. A girl was only really guarantied a job until the other girls decided that they no longer wanted around, and when that time came they would turn on that one girl like hungry dogs, no like the real bitches that they were.

She had to get up from the bench that she had been occupying. She couldn't continue to sit there and act as a show for the other girls to look and laugh at. She had to do something, she had to act busy. She had to get her mind off things.

So she pulled on a simple lace dress that gave the impression of clothing but really didn't hide anything from sight, and exited the locker room. From there she would walk the floor and entertain the costumers on a one-to-one basis.

However beneficial, in both a business and personal manner, meeting with the hypnotic beauty would be, the thought of leaving the High Rise for such a venture raised instant warning. The man was completely enthralled with Liquid, there was no denying that, he was over come with some sort of desire to see her daily.

The lie, though vaguely believable, was still hard to digest and it didn’t sit right. The snifter in his hand almost found a tray of a passing girl, but on a second thought it was kept in his hand. This man would not poison someone with in the club unless it was a long lasting poison and there for getting rid of the glass would only allude to the suspicions.

“I would rather just a private meeting here.” his voice had not changed, nor had his eyes moved from Liquid. She was like some sort of strange calming force, and yet caused infatuation with her movements as well.

Verua’s attention was caught easily enough for the new security guard to secretively point out his observations. Jarum was being, rather.. clever about how he was handling the situation. Sure he could just up and rough the man out. Have him escorted out by security. That, however, could cause a major scene if it went down wrong. It was damn smart of him.

“You need to learn the art behind your position. It’s not always about just escorting people outside.”

Jarum let no disappointment show at the man's decision, instead winking and smiling. "Economically speaking, that's the frugal choice. Our rooms are quite as secure as anywhere else, and our slum services really only provide the illusion of extra secrecy, for those truly paranoid husbands." He sipped his drink, and his eyes strayed to Liquid once more as he spoke.

"As you might guess, that particular brand of paranoia has proved to be quite the blessing, according to our accountants." He said it with a lopsided grin, revealing easily that he would have had no problem fleecing the man in exchange for a bit of false padding, had he said yes. The mark knew how the game was played anyway; this was another frank tribute of trust, a peek at the inner workings of Jarum's profit margin.

"It refreshes me, for Liquid's sake, to know that you're better than that. Paranoid men sweat, have deranged fantasies, and leave a bad smell on the merchandise."

He peered into the bottom of his drink, swilling the dusky silt that collected at the bottom, and took one last sip before placing it from him on an adjacent table. One never drank the silt in a Kismet Oak vintage. "And I'll tell you something else. You'll be Liquid's first customer, should she agree to it. I'm sure she's had her fun before, mind you, but according to my rather extensive file on her, she's never gotten intimate for 'metal."

_________________________

The guard behind the bar had taken Verua's words to heart, and he continued to watch the display, though he couldn't hear the words being spoken. He looked on, observing the way Jarum chuckled and twisted his eyebrows and leaned back his head to smile, flashing white teeth. The half-closed eyes, the easy angle of his glass. It was as though he was chatting with an old friend. He's still talking to this creep! It's been five minutes!

He gave up, and continued watching the crowd. "Well, I don't get it, but I suppose I will, eventually."

In one of the larger booths across the room sat a gawking group of young men. They were positioned close enough to the bar that they got a good shot at the nude bartenders, or what could be seen of them from over the bar. They could see a few of the girls in their synchronized, acrobatic dance within the tree. And from where they were positioned, they could see all degrees of sexual acts being preformed all around them, enough to excite them and make them act more like wide-eyed children at a candy shop than the men that they actually were.

"First time?" Zuraeah asked as she slid into the booth with the young men, who on closer examination turned out to be closer to boys than men.

"No, I've been with plenty of women before..." One of the boys started, but he was cut off by a friend of his. "I think she was asking if it's our first time here."

"Oh," Responded the first one. "Yes, it's our first time here. Is it that obvious?" Two of the other boys began to snicker and giggle like little school girls.

"Yes. You boys seem to be enjoying yourself." Zur eyed each one of the six boys sitting in the booth with her. The were similarly dressed in business suits, with a few of their ties either pulled off of out of place and a few drinks in their hands. They almost had a professional look to them if not for their expressions and mannerisms. "So what brings you boys to the High Rise?"

"We are here to celebrate!" One answered with the raise of his glass, only to be joined by the others. "We passed the Bar Exam, we are frucken going to be lawyers. Oh yeah...and Roland over there is gettin' married."

"I see." Zur couldn't help but find it assuming watching these boys and their level of excitement. Their laughter and repeated toasts to 'the pussy-whipped Roland,' along with the accompaniment of slurred words, did wonders for trying to talk her mind off of things.

"Now tell me you boys weren't just thinking of spending the whole night sitting here taking in the sights. We here at the Hire Rise have all manner of entertainment, meant to take your satisfaction to the next level." This brought many shouts and hollers from the boys, except the one that had been identified as Roland, he seemed to be sitting back and watching his friend's have fun more than anything. At one point there was even "I think she's trying to come on to you." whispered across the table loud enough that all could here.

"So what is it you boys are looking for? If I can not personally assist you, I'm sure I can find others that may be able to help you."

A few of the boys, including the outgoing one that had done a majority of the talking for the group, looked to Roland with a devilish grin. Roland simple stated "No." Again the boys giggled and looked back at Zur and then at Roland again. "You knew the deal," The outgoing one said. "You can't think that we aren't going to go through with it."

"What deal is this?" Zur asked in playing along with them.

"Well," the one started. "When we heard our buddy Roland here was getting married, we told his girlfriend that she had to let us invite the rest of our college frat buddies, I mean it's must. She said 'No.' So we told her to change her mind or we were bringing strippers to the wedding. She still doesn't think we'll do it."

"She is going to kill you, you know that." Roland took that moment to speak up. "There is no way she is going to let you."

"I'd like to see her try." The outgoing one added as he climbed over two of his buddies to sit next to Zur. "So would you be will to talk a few of your friends into joining us? Oh and I love this dress."

"I'll see what I can do."

Extensive Files...

The incredible amount of thought brought to the stalkers mind by such simple worse was barely navigable. What were in those files? Did they tell more of her past than what normal people would know by interaction with her? There was little doubt that Benson Jarum would not take the time for a complete investigation on all her newer employees. It was well know the Watch had been here not that long ago and that Liquid had gained employment here after such events. Did they tell of who here family was? That intrigued him greatly.

The other major thought that crossed his mind had to do with Liquid’s actual willingness to meet with him in private. This man had openly just admitted that in Liquid’s brief, but very enjoyable, career with in the High Rise she had not at all gone to a private encounter with a man. There was little proof that she would bother to change her mind now. Being forced into the situation was unlikely either. He wasn’t offering an extortionate amount of gunmetal for such an opportunity. He was going to need some proof that Liquid would do this for him first.

“I need proof of her willingness first.”

~~~

As the security guard continued to watch the interaction of Jarum and the man easily known as ‘the stalker’. Sure the interaction was a bit weird to anyone who knew the real reason they were conversing. Well the assumed reason, which was to remove him the High Rise all together. However, there was no want or need to cause a stir which made the conversation more likely a clever manipulation to get the man out of her. Verua couldn’t help but smirk, Idiot.

Security watched, and Verua worked, though this time she did not forget where he was like she had before when he was standing off to the side.

“Well, I don’t get it, but I suppose I will, eventually.”

The silence was broken. “How about this, you give up on understanding for now, and head out to watch from a different angle.” She gave him the freedom to leave, it’s not like she was under observation. “What’s your name? So I can call ya, should it get interesting down here.”

The guard took her invitation to leave with a shrug. There was too much going on in his head for him to bother about how Verua felt about him. "The name's Belly," he said as he stepped around the bar and began pacing the arena. The guileless look on his face suggested that it could actually be his real name.

_________________________________



Jarum nodded, conveying understanding. "Give me your business card. I'll talk to her in private after her shift, and I'll be in touch with you personally."

What they were asking of was far from what was considered a normal sort of request, but the boys seemed nice enough that Zuraeah didn't mind giving in to their request. What was the worst that could happen? She would go to a party and act like she was having fun for a while before making up some excuse to leave early. It was easy money and a chance to get her mind off of things.

But who should she invite with her? Sasha was out of the question, there was no way that Zur was going to try to let that girl ruin another good day. Well what about that new girl? Jarum had asked her to keep an eye on her and get to know her, what better chance would she have at a bonding experience?

So she agreed to joined the boys for their event and left her number with the friendly one who had dominated the conversation. Then, she excused herself from the booth and made her way across the room to where the Silo emerged from the floor below. If she hadn't lost track of time, she figured the other girl would be winding up her routine and be taking a break soon.

Verua easily went back to focusing on her work. It was almost as if there had never been an interruption to it in the first place.

~~~

A simple white card was handed towards Jarum. It was plain, with little effort given to its creation. It would denote that the man was either so lacking in social standing it was all he could afford. More than likely, though, the simplicity of the card could also mean he was of a well enough off background that he gave little thought and care to how the card came across. Like a well kept, but not to closely guarded secret. He hadn’t said anything about himself, and it showed he wasn’t willing to share much more. The simple script across the card read a number in which to reach him, and the his name. Saren Crimwell.

For the moment while his hand was extended waiting for Jarum to take the card, Saren’s eyes moved away from Liquid to lightly focus on the card being given. It was this moment where Liquid started to take her leave at the end of her first set. She among other dancers, would in sequence leave their cages, being replaced by another, so that the visual smorgasbord of decadence could be flaunted in the continuous flesh show.

Liquid’s exit of course was nothing shot of entrancing excellence. In a similar fashion to her earlier spiral, she moved up to grab the top of the cage. Once she had her position she twirled elegantly and just that little bit slower to the music as if she was frozen in time. She grabbed the bar just above the entrance to the cage as her chest left the cage first. She then slid down the frame of the door, letting her back arch seductively as her feet found the ground.

The music continued its thumping and driving of dancing and seduction as the dancers changed. Those who left their cages making their way up to the locker room. It would be time to remove the rolling sweat from their bodies and many would take the time to eat something to keep up strength for their next set as well as hydrate. The act on the floor was a skill needing precision and care behind the scenes. Liquid was no different, the moment she was away from ‘prying’ eyes and in the locker room, her heels were off, letting her feet rest as she headed for water.

Jarum seethed under that collected mask of his as he followed Saren's eye movements. He took the card with a wily smile, and said "We'll get you fixed up, Saren. I'll be in touch shortly."

He departed without a backward glance, and made for his office. When he was back behind his jade desk, he called the show manager for the arena, and requested that Liquid drop by his office at her earliest convenience.

___________________

Belly kept his eye glued to the stalker after Jarum left. He didn't like not understanding what was going on, and he didn't want to fuck anything up. However, the man seemed to be offering little in the way of trouble once Liquid was out of the picture, and Belly's attention was soon drifting to other little things.

Most of the High Rise clientele were, if not classy folk, at least rich enough not to squabble about trivialities. Drugs were carefully tracked, but otherwise ignored, unless flaunted. There was, therefore, little for him to do at any given moment but watch the crowd. His eyes glanced back now and again to the topless Verua, but they didn't linger for long. He wasn't one to fish for smiles.