Dark Fame

Chapter 1

It was one of the busy nights where the Sinful Serpent was packed full of bodies vibrating against one another, heat radiating amongst all the close nit bodies causing sweat to seep through the pores and rise into the air to mix with the multitude of perfumes and colognes already littering the atmosphere. To put it bluntly, it was too damn packed. Not that any of the customers cared; they were drunk on the mesmerizing tunes pulsing through the air, practically coaxing one to dance with invisible strokes to the very soul. They were also drunk off the various free shots circling around the floor. Saobe watched the scene with silvery eyes, locking onto the crowds of bodies littering the deep blue dance floor. He was amazed at how when it came to having a good time and enjoying the night came into play, people forgot their differences and troubles and just dissolved into the scene. Even busy as he was, he let his mind drift with the music and let his dark head bob slightly to the beat. He blew a dark blue lock away from his face and tucked it behind a pierced ear. He could remember when he first applied for his job, just kicked out of high school and in desperate need of funds; he had gone to every place with a hiring sign. Kyle, the owner, took one look at his hair and asked if he knew how to make drinks. Saobe had honestly answered no and was surprised by the "you're hired"! When he had asked how he possibly got the job, Kyle had simply replied with "I like blue". Saobe had never thought his youthful act of rebellion would ever lead him anywhere worthwhile, but he was now more than happy that he had used his lunch funds one random day to pick up the five dollar box of dark blue dye. It had become like his trademark, the thing that singled him out from all the rest of the bartenders in the club, that and his slightly impressive height and reddish brown complexion. Many people had since asked him what he was, but he could never give them a good answer. After all he didn't exactly know who his father was, just another passing client to his whore of a mother.

He shook his head and cleared his thoughts; he refused to let memories of the past effect a good night. Jaorie was safe and sound at Julia's house, which meant he had the whole night to work his ass off for good tips. He was taking home at least two hundred tonight that was his goal. He glanced up at the ceiling, flashing lights taking over his sight, vibrant greens and shocking blues. Kyle knew how to make a night flashy. He smiled ruefully and returned to the end of the bar where his partner in crime tonight, and best friend Victor, was fighting a wave of orders. He was thrown an irritated glance from the swamped male and he chuckled and he re-tied his hair into a loose ponytail and washed his hands.

"You dick," came the exasperated voice from behind him as Vic set up three blenders at once along the tan, marble counter, "how dare you take a break and you know its rush hour!?"

Saobe flung a clean towel over his shoulder and chuckled softly. "Just payback for last Friday, you know when you decided to take off on our busiest night leaving me to serve completely alone. That's alright though; I took home $300, so I suppose I should be thanking you."

Vic huffed and scratched at shaggy, chocolate hair. "Jeez man," he whined, his face falling onto an exasperated expression causing his goatee to rise up towards his mouth in an amusing manner. "These guys are vicious tonight. No one just wants rum and coke or vodka on the rocks; they want all the colorful shit that takes up the whole goddamn counter!"

Saobe gave him a pat on the back and shook his head. "Never fear, the drink master is here." That earned him a playful tug to his ponytail as he sauntered off to the bar to take orders. He had become something of a pro at mixing drinks and serving customers. Most of them were regulars but every day there was a new face here or there. He knew many by name; the club was after all exclusive except on Fridays when it was open to just about anyone. One never knew who they'd meet in the Sinful Serpent, after all he found himself serving drinks to Jerry Lots, the man who owned Night City, a magazine subscribed to by anyone who wanted to be anything big. He wanted to be in all those magazines one day, a picture of him poised at a piano, the name of his latest album printed on the page, a short article about how he loves music, and how he was the next rising star at the bottom. Yeah he had big dreams, bigger than being a well-known bartender in a well-known Club; after all he wanted to give Jaorie the life he always deserved.

It was with a simple locking of eyes, a nod, and a wave of a bill that Saobe knew who wanted what. In a matter of half an hour, the crowd at the bar had dwindled down and he was already more than half way done with his goal for the night. Vic hung lazily towards the back, garnishing drinks and rimming glasses. He may have been a lazy pig most of the time, but when they worked together, they were a fantastic team. It wasn't until the dimming of the lights, did he notice the hush that fell over the club as people shuffled to their booths in order to catch the nightly performance of the "Sinful Seduction". The Sinful Seduction was a short performance by the dancers of the club, sometimes it was all men, sometimes only the women, and other times it was a mix. Tonight it was the men's turn. Other than Friday nights when the Serpent doubled as a night club, the place was suave and professional, only the famous got in and everything about the scene screamed wealthy and powerful, two things Saobe was not accustomed to. He grew up a street rat and always figured he would be one until he ended up in some place or another. It was inheriting guardianship of his little brother that changed all that.

He glanced at the stage, the low lights hiding the activity behind the curtain. This was what he was used to, the quiet club with its low lights and rich, dark colors, not the removable flashing lights and sea of people. He waited quietly like everyone else, he loved the dance interludes. He knew the small group of performers very well and loved how graceful and lithe they were, dancing sensually and mesmerizing others with their bodies, even though they were males. He had mastered the routine, had practiced it alone in his small apartment, pretending that he was as graceful as they were, pretending that all eyes were on him, trained on every moment of his body and he moved in a way that made one burn from the inside out. He was no dancer, but that didn't mean he could not pretend every once in a while. Sure he had to grow up before his time, and sure many people thought him to be a serious, emo kid with a quick tongue and an attitude, but there were moments when he could just imagine and pretend… and have wild dance sprees in his home.

There was a hushed murmur through the crowd which drew Saobe back to the present. The show was late, that never happened before. He leaned against the bar and watched as he caught sight of Kyle looking more than a little pissed. Something must have gone wrong back stage. As he watched, he caught site of a bouncer carrying off the main dancer to the back, that had to mean trouble, an injury perhaps or an illness. Kyle, descending from the stage steps, came hurrying up behind the bar, reaching for a bottle of dark liquor and taking a sip right from the bottle.

"What happened," Vic asked, also having seen the scene near the back stage.

"Fucking Sam was goofing around again and sprained his fucking ankle." Kyle was not one to swear, unless he was drunk, angry, or both. "None of the dancers know his routine because the little fuck was too stuck up to teach his back up the moves like he was supposed to!"

The situation sounded like Sam alright, short, skinny, and quite the looker, he was all drama and all Queen.

Vic snickered and sipped his own drink. "What you mean the dance fairy got a booboo bad enough to stop him from entering his spotlight?"

Kyle growled in irritation in no mood for Vic's jokes. "I will have to cancel tonight, a perfect streak of performances and I will have to cancel due to the carelessness of that little tart! He is getting a pay cut for this shit!"

Saobe stayed quiet, it was too bad, as annoying as Sam could be, he was a beautiful dancer and played the main role to perfection. Even he, who had memorized Sam's dance by sight, could not do such a sexy job of putting on a tease. Then again, he was no dancer.

There was many times when Saobe loved Vic for the things he said, but never when their thoughts matched and their conclusions differed. Vic came strolling to him casually, throwing an arm around his slender shoulder, smiling a smile that only meant he had something deceitful in mind. Saobe eyed him with his gray, green flecked eyes and wondered what he could be up to. "Saobe tells me he has all the dances down packed." There was a snicker as Saobe's eyes widened and then narrowed in a burning glare. If Vic even dared… "Why not make him fill in?"

There was the sound of a smack to the head, before Saobe shrugged off his irritating friend's beefy arm and turned on his heels to face Kyle and shake off any notion of actually considering such a thing. He did not dance, not in clubs and certainly not in front of crowds. "No, absolutely not, I refuse."

Saobe knew Kyle well enough to know that the man was actually thinking about the notion. Were they both insane, implying that he could randomly go on stage and do a good job after never doing the routine? Hell they didn't even know if he had two left feet! What was this, Burlesque?

He scowled and shook his head, backing away from both of them as they looked at him. "No, you are both insane if you think I am about to dance… dance like that in front of these people! This is not Saobe saves the day!"

Kyle was giving him a once over and he was beginning to groan in exasperation. There was not plausible reason why someone would stick a random bartender on stage and expect them to dance a teasing number to perfection. Yet, if there was one thing Saobe should have learned in his lifetime, it was that normal things never happened to him.

"Two fifty." Kyle said giving him a broad grin and nodding.

Saobe's eyes widened at him, wonder what on earth Kyle was going on about. "What about two fifty?"

"I will pay you $250 to get on that stage and make some people hot and bothered."

When it came to sexual talk, Saobe was in a rare act, shy and awkward. He didn't know much about it, had never experienced it, and as far as he was concerned had no need for it. "Are you crazy? I don't even know what hot and bothered means. You cannot bribe me with money Kyle, I will absolutely not-"

He was cut off by Kyle. "$350."

Saobe's eyes turned to tiny saucers, three hundred dollars that added to what he'd already made for the month could allow him to finally get the school supplies Jaorie really needed. He shook his head, not honestly believing that he was actual getting up there… and dancing… in front of all of those people. He looked back at the stage… all he had to do was pretend he was at home right, in his room, alone, doing something for no one but himself for once. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily, he knew he could not pass up that kind of money for something relatively simple. "You want me to go up there?" He asked, his tone blank, "and attempt to be sexy?"

Kyle and Vic both snickered at his words as if the notion was impossible for him. They exchanged looks and shook their heads in a silent message. "I forgot," Vic said in amusement, "that you have no idea how much of a pretty boy you are."

Saobe blushed and glared. That was not the first time he'd heard such words. It began perhaps a year ago, the looks and long glances, the meeting of people's eyes and receiving blushes, having random people brush up against him, hell he'd even had his ass groped. Saobe had figured that it all came with adult hood, having sexual attention directed at him even though he thought he looked like a pretty normal boy even if he was the son of a once famous model. He shook the thought out of his head; he was a normal boy with normal looks about to do a not so normal thing.

He was hustled to the back by Kyle who was back to his usually chipper self. Saobe stood by idly as the other dancers eyed him curiously, they were obviously wondering why he was being dressed to play the missing part.

Kyle gathered them around and began to talk, "okay you guys, our favorite bartender here says he's knows the routine pretty well so we are going to see if those long legs of his are good for anything other than walking." There were some chuckles and cheers and Saobe rolled his eyes. They were being unrealistically okay about this, the bartender of all things feeling in for their main dancer! What if he fell or froze up, or any number of plausible things. Sometimes he thought he was the only reasonable thinker in this place.

He glanced down at the girl dressing him, or better to say undressing him. She had slid off his shirt, revealing his thin, taunt torso, spraying him with glitter and some oily substance that made him look slick and shiny. He gave her an odd look, what the hell was that stuff and why he did now look like a greasy porn star.

She smiled up at him from where she knelt and he eyed her suspiciously. "I need your pants to come off."

Saobe shook his head and backed away. "What right here? In front of everyone…?"

The girl nodded and smiled. "Come on, it's just into the tights, we don't have time for you to be shy, handsome, you have a show to put on."

Saobe was out of his pants and in to the tights in a flash, glaring at the group daring for them to peek. He knew he still had on boxers, loose ones at that, but he still felt like it was a breach of privacy and highly embarrassing. He didn't think his cheeks could get any redder. He thought he was done being primped until his hair tie was stolen and his dyed locks came trailing down his shoulders, stopping near his upper back. His hand instinctively went to capture the falling strands, he always felt awkward with his hair hanging loose, so long and quite frankly girlish.

"No, no, no, don't mess with it." The girl told him taking some locks and trailing them over his face. "You are so bloody pretty, could almost past for a lady if you were skinny enough." That earned him another blush, who said such things? To a guy of all people! "Now," she said with a cheeky grin, "for a little finishing touch."

Saobe eyed her when she grabbed a bottle of water. "What do I do with that," he asked sarcastically, "stuff it in the tights for a massive illusion."

The comment earned him a snicker before the contents of the bottle were promptly dumped on his head. He spluttered and hacked as his now wet hair clung to his face and a chill followed wherever the stray drops trailed. He shivered a bit as he felt his nipples react to the cold, the peach nubs hardening stiffly. Managing to push aside the curtain of his wet, he glared at the girl, quite ready to give her a piece of his mind. There had to be a more civil way to give him a wet look.

Before he was able to speak however, firm hands took hold of his shoulder, turning him about and leading him to the center of the dancers already in their formations, expressions frozen for the lift of the curtain. It was time, time for him to take center stage and pretend that it was his normal day job to fill in for a skilled dancer. Yeah, he thought to himself as the dark curtain began to rise and the glare of spotlights warmed his skin and hurt his eyes; I've definitely lost my mind.

ooOOOooOOOoo

Zath Lender was a member of many high rise clubs, groups, memberships, and things of that nature, but he rarely participated in any of it. It was beneficiary to have all those trivial things assigned to his name; it meant he had wealth, prestige, power, and all the things that kept him the Upper class. If there was one place Zath Lender had never left, it was his status in the upper class population of the world. Like his parents, and their parents, and yes the parents before them, he was a person who'd decided he deserved to be rich, and decided that he'd stay that way until the day he turned to dust. Zath Lender was a man accustomed to getting what he wanted, when he wanted, and however he wanted it. This was part of the reason he'd chosen to become the owner of a Model Agency. Anyone who was anyone knew his name, his title, and what both came with. If one wanted to enter the Modeling world, they aimed to work for him. He owned Bold, one of the biggest Model and Magazine companies in the world. He ran the New York fashion scene. Anyone worth looking at graced the pages of his magazine and company products, and at the moment, he was looking at his next big money maker. He had only half a year ago signed Rahla Luau, a gorgeous thing who'd taken the model world by storm with her exotic beauty and fierce attitude. Now exotic had become the new it look, and the very epitome of exotic beauty now filled his vision. The Sinful Serpent was one of the few Clubs he frequent, the service was good and the privacy was even better. He did not like the notion of it being open to the public on Friday Nights, but he could deal with it. Most Fridays he was on a plane to and from New York City, tonight however, he was free and had a craving for a drink only made to perfection by one of The Serpents bar staff. He expected the dancing show to be what it always was, it was alluring to many, but to him it was just a nice show of the wonders of the human legs. On this night however, when that curtain rose, a hushed silence came over the crowd, and he now knew why. The way the lights angled on the center was utterly enchanting, he was tall, not as tall as many of the Models at his agency, but he was most likely still growing. He was slim; his shape was gorgeous, sleek, hips that curved softly in youth. Those rounded hips curved gently down to beautiful legs, shapely, covered in the thin gauze of bluish tights, the position he twisted in revealing one amazing curved hemisphere of his buttocks.

This boy had a body that made one want to pant. Zath found himself leaning forward, waiting with the rest of the crowd for the dancing to begin. His face was turned away, long hair like a silken curtain hiding whatever waited behind it. If his face was ugly, Zath might have to curse the heavens, it would be a cruel trick of fate to give such a body an unworthy face. The moment came finally when the music began to stream out in melodic waves, washing over the crowd and signaling the dancers. The boy's face finally turned towards him as he began the slow movements of the choreographic number. Few things made Zath Lender's mouth drop… this orgasmic beauty was one of them. His eyes were gorgeous, a soft, rainy gray which look ghostly in the bright lights. Dark, dark lashes thickly lined his eyes and cast lovely shadows on his cinnamon colored cheeks. That face was turned away again, but Zath was not done analyzing yet. His hazel eyes traveled down and watched as the boy seductively twisted and bent, the movements seemed as if they were programmed into his soul, his body moving in such a way that Zath found a very noticeable part of him reacting as well.

"Damn. Who's the new eye candy Kyle has featuring?" Zath looked at Leon Lovett, a model that had been in business with him for a long while and had become something like a young prodigy to him. "Boy got the ladies about to jump out of their panties."

Zath chuckled and leaned back, black silk clad legs crossing as he watched and absorbed. "I don't think I've been this turned on in a long while."

Leon glanced at Zath, honey brown hair slicked back in a ponytail, giving him a roguish look. "What don't tell me you are getting the hots for that little hot number on stage?"

Zath smiled broadly and folded his large hand behind his ebony head. "Look at him. You can't tell me the boy doesn't have some major potential. Just imagine all that on covers and billboards. He would reel in some serious money."

Leon straightened in the leather booth, fine eyebrows knitting over green eyes. "What you mean as a model? What is this a talent hunt? I thought it was your night off, and besides," he said closing his eyes and shaking his head, "you can't take some random stage fill in and turn him into a model…"

Zath gave him a sideways glance and lifted his dark brows. "Care to bet on that dear Leon? My intuition is telling me that that boy has serious potential waiting to be released, and I know exactly how to release it."

Leon scoffed and took a sip from his apple martini. "You are out of your mind Zath, this is not Cinderella and you are not the Fairy-God Agent come to turn eye candy up there into a Mega Million Model."

Zath turned his attention back to the show, watching as the little number rolled his hips in a mouthwatering motion, a the soft mist of special effects causing him to look like a fallen angel forsaken do to some very naughty sins. "As I said," he spoke narrowing his eyes slightly and running his tongue across his lip. "Care to bet on it?"

Leon rolled his eyes and nodded. "Alright Lender, I will enjoy watching your over inflated ego fly you too close to the sun." He held out his hand and smiled crookedly. "I agree to your bet sir. Question is what the terms are?"