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phil walks into the dimly lit bar, tugging his hood to sit lower on his face.
the room is lit in magentas and reds, neon signs reflecting off the polished stage and the drunk people all around him. the fishnet, a somewhat funny name for a strip club, especially one that's a hotspot for illegal activity.
phil heads for a corner table, one away from the large groups of people. he sits down, looks at his watch – 1:13 am – and watches the crowds for any known faces.
he's startled by a smooth voice next to him. "hey, looking for anything tonight?"
"no thank you," phil says to the person before he looks at them, "my friend left me to keep the spot."
"come on," they say. phil finally looks at them, and it isn't quite what he expected. a young man, somewhere in his twenties, dark makeup covering his face in a tasteful way. his body, muscular with a little fat, is bound in tight, shiny latex and ripped fishnets. his heels, which rest on the couch as he half sits, half lays facing away from phil, have multiple inches on them. at phils eyes on him, he smirks with a hand running through his curly hair, "i can tell you're not here for sex. name a price, name a topic. ill talk."
"what?" phil says. "what are you talking about?"
"money is money, rent is rent," the man studies his painted nails, "im not known for being... tight-lipped." he giggles at his innuendo.
"...do you have no loyalty?"
"this place sucks, what do i care?" he says, leaning his head back enough to stare at phil, "these people will tell a stripper literally anything. it's just gossip, who cares."
phils thinks about it. it's a good way in, sure, but what if this has strings attached? fuck it, he thinks. "how can i trust you?" he asks, leaning further on the table to stare at the man's face.
the other chuckles. "that's the fun part."
"ugh, fine," phil takes out his wallet and slides 20 dollars over. "you'll get more if i deem you worth it."
"sure, old man," he takes the money and stuffs it into his shorts, "im guessing you're looking for the dream team, right?"
the dream team. a legendary, powerful villain group. telekinesis, electricity, fire, superhuman strength, control over life and death, sleep, it's impossible to say who has what when the three work so well together. they're an awful force to reckon with.
phil sees the man's eyes light up, as he somehow notices him becoming more attentive. he tuts, clicking his shoes together, "don't get so excited. all i know about is potential next attacks."
"that's already good."
"you know that big office building, the one next to the bakery..." he snaps his fingers a few times, "i don't know the address. the tall one, they're attacking there. something they want is inside. don't know when, though."
phil notes it down on a scrap of paper. he's pretty sure he knows the place, just a matter of time.
"there was also... a blond, tall, quite lean, long hair? he wasn't familiar to me, but he was talking to the owners a few days back. maybe an ally? maybe someone asking for a favour?" he shrugs. "not my business."
phil notes that down as well. "that's- it's more than i expected to get, thank you..?"
"you can call me later," the man says, making a phone sign with his hand. he laughs, then walks away, adjusting his clothes. phil rolls his eyes, but stares at the small list of hints. an attack later, and someone to search for. he sends a quick message, then leaves the club.
//
dream walks into the staff room, then bursts out laughing. he sits down on a plush chair, grabbing his black fan off the side table, "fucking idiot!"
"what happened?" george asks, already getting him a bottle of water.
"the- the angel visited! and it was-" he pauses to catch a breath, fanning himself, "it was so obvious, told him some bullshit about an attack on a random building and, um, that that one cashier i saw yesterday is working for us."
george smiles. he throws the bottle at dream, who chugs most of it then throws his heels at a wall. "you're gonna damage the walls one day."
"me with clients damages the walls more, georgie."
george shakes his head but stays quiet. dream laughs quietly. he can't wait to see what the syndicate will do with his lies.