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Lights filled the room, glowing, dancing in the air. Electricity buzzed, passing from one body to another. Life, hands outstretched, an endless dance of passion and energy. Youth and joy and love and pain and romance. Greens and blues swirling together in a mix of colors. Steam, breath, sweat. Drops of pure glistening light on bodies, on skin. Moving limbs, legs, hair in the open space. Laughter. Voices. Breath. Life. Death.
The sign blinked on the wall. Rooks Club .
The little bar was having a run for its money. People were coming and going, gathering around it and the small seating for it. This was only one part of the club, but it was the most important part. The dance floor, the blinking lights, the little stage where a man was playing music. Everyone was young and beautiful and enthralling, amazing, wondrous, absolutely marvelous.
But it was so small. There were a few secondhand speakers sitting around for the music, and the alcohol and drinks all looked cheap. Unbearably cheap. So why were there so many people filling up the little place that was on top of a little flower shop until the building was almost bursting at the seams?
This typically wasn’t Maxwell Roth’s type of place to be, but he had to see what all the fuss was about. He stood out from the crowd very noticeably. Everyone was young, just able to start clubbing, and Roth was… well, older. Everyone was dressed down, bearing themselves to the world in tight, revealing clothing, skin shining and looking beautiful. Roth was in a cuffed shirt, slick black pants, and a waistcoat, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. It was ironic how this wasn’t his type of place, considering how he ran a club just across the Thames in an old theater. He wasn’t really interested in the gig, but he was doing it as a favor to an old friend - plus he was getting paid to do it. And as long as he was holed up in his office during the evening and let people dance and party, he didn’t really care. The noise didn’t bother him, as long as nobody was approaching him to annoy him. That’s what his hired staff was for.
But everyone was wandering from the Alhambra. Even the loyals, the ones who would come every single night, or most nights, had begun to cross the river to the Rooks. It made no sense. The place was little, cramped, yet people seemed drawn to how that felt. Roth couldn’t explain it, but even though he was baffled why anyone would want to spend time in a place like this club, he felt something nice about it. He felt the energy. It felt fresh, new, good. It felt young. It felt alive. The excitement, the joy, something was ready to explode here. Something good and new and pure and amazing.
It was that young man on the dance floor.
Roth had his eye on him for quite some time. The moment he noticed the young man, he hadn’t lost him in the crowd once. He stuck out too much, though he wasn’t exactly the most incredible thing in the world purely based on his general appearance. Wild brown hair in need of a haircut, brown eyes. He wore black jeans that seemed a little baggy, a bit of the v to his hips visible. One of those mesh shirts people wore these days, black mesh that cut off just above his waist, making a line of skin visible between the shirt and pants. Roth spotted a rather adorable little happy trail. Nice. The boy wore gloves, and plain shoes. He had decent facial hair, and some scars on his face. Two tattoos were visible, one perfect on his arm. Roth spotted a wing, but the rest of the tattoo was hidden under the shirt.
What caught Roth was how alive he looked. The glow of his eyes, the grin on his face. That was a beautiful smile. One of the most beautiful Roth had ever seen. Every step he took, his arms in the air, the sweat on him. The movement of his waist, the way his fingers curl, his chest moving with heavy breaths. He was the most stunning thing in the room. Roth wouldn’t have been surprised if he was the reason so many people began to come here instead of his own business.
Brown eyes raised and they met Roth’s. Those beautiful eyes. The smile didn’t fade, it seemed to brighten and get wider. He continued to dance, but Roth could tell that the boy was looking his way. Roth wasn’t surprised, he was probably wondering why someone like Maxwell Roth was at this club. Roth was going to leave once he got a chance to see the owner, though. Then he would know what all the hype was about and make his way to his car and relax to the bass in his own home rather than here. Sitting at his desk, or in his bedroom, feeling the vibration of the music, but using it to relax him instead of energize him. That sounded better than what it would be if he was among the people listening to the music. He didn’t much care for what music they played at the Alhambra, but the music played at Rooks was interesting. Similar style, but something about it was just nice. More songs with lyrics. People sung with them as they danced. Rooks was more… communal.
The music was loud and blaring for many songs, but eventually it died down. There was still enough to dance to, but the DJ was taking a little break and getting water. As he left the stage, a shy looking man who was fiddling with some electronic machines, someone pushed through the crowd to get to the stage. Roth tried to spot who it was, but there were too many people in the way. But as they began to climb up onto the stage, Roth realized he had lost sight of the pretty boy in the crowd.
That was because, naturally, he was on stage. Everyone turned to look at him. Now bathed in light, Roth was even more fascinated. The mesh shirt was a dark green, and he actually had some green around his eyes. There was green and blue glitter on his cheeks, and he was sequenced beautifully with the shining dust along his arms, as well.
And that smile.
It could stop a heart.
“If you’re just making it or have found yourself here for hours now, welcome to the Rooks,” the boy said. People clapped and cheered. “You got any music suggestions? Just come up to me or Aleck. Actually, maybe just me, Aleck is pretty shy.” He clasped his hands together. “Anyway, outside in the back are some events that my friend Topping set up for us, feel free to stop down there! Most are free but Topping is charging a few dollars for his favorite events, meaning all the best ones.” People rolled their eyes. “I know, I know, I promise I’ll kick his ass later. And I hope you’re enjoying refreshments? Neddie boy is getting more, and they’re ‘specially good tonight, I promise that.” The boy stretched his arms above his head. “Anyway, before Aleck gets back, I wanted to remind you all that this is your place.”
Roth raised a brow.
“This is your place to be you, to relax, to live.” The boy’s grin changed. It became a warm smile. “This is more than just a place to have fun. It’s a place for you to feel you. And remember, you got any problems? Come talk to me. Anyone bothering you? I’ll get them to back off. Anyone in need of aid? We Rooks are here. We Rooks are family. Now, remember, I’m Jacob Frye. Talk to me if you need anything, or just ask for me if you can’t find me.”
The place erupted in cheer. That was different. A club was offering services of security to its patrons in a way that most clubs would not extend. Roth watched the boy hop off as the DJ came back. The music rose up, filling the air, and people clapped and cheered, and fell back into a peaceful dance. The young man, Jacob, he had his grin on and was moving again, and his eyes once more met Roth’s. And they were full of life and light and curiosity and joy.
Someone pushed through the crowd of dancers, Roth saw. They seemed to be mumbling apologies, a young lady with long dark hair and a worried look on her face. Jacob didn’t notice her until the girl reached out and touched his arm. He stopped dancing, leaning to her and letting her whisper in his ear. He gave a little nod and gestured for her to walk, and he followed her away.
Roth spotted the glint of metal as Jacob pulled brass knuckles from his back pocket. Mustache twitching, he stood up from the wall and followed. His steps were inaudible over the music. While he stuck out like a sore thumb, nobody was really paying attention to him. Everyone was into the music, each other. Now that Jacob Frye was obvious to Roth, he understood why people were drawn to it. Jacob.
The two had gone outside, and Roth was careful on the little steps down the side of the building to the street. There was a little fence with an open gate leading behind the building, where Roth recalled Jacob saying some events were. He peeked through to see if he could spot the glittery owner. There were crowds of people betting on people who were doing three legged racing. Roth sighed and shook his head. That was sad. And also no Jacob.
He heard faint talking behind him and turned. He spotted Jacob and the woman down the street, talking and walking. Even in the dim light of lampposts, Roth spotted the shine of the brass knuckles. Curious. He crossed the road to follow, keep closing to the buildings and out of the lamppost’s lights as much as he could. The two didn’t seem to notice him, walking between two buildings. Roth wondered for a moment if they were going to do… He couldn’t explain the disappointment in his chest. He followed anyway. He wanted to confirm.
What he saw wasn’t any act of passion.
It was an act of violence.
The woman was standing closest to Roth, Jacob in front of her. He had a man by the collar, and his fist, with those brass knuckles, connected with his face. “You want to come into my area and harass a lady, huh?” Jacob’s voice was not that pleasant, gentle, sweet voice that had been on the stage. “You stay away from here, and especially from her, got it?”
“The little whore wouldn’t let me bed-”
“I don’t give a fuck what your problem is with her,” Jacob said. “And if she wouldn’t let you, then back the fuck off you stupid prick!” His fist connected with the man’s stomach now and he reeled. Jacob let him drop. “Get out of here, and if I hear anything about you again? You’re not gonna see the sunrise again.”
Roth was able to hide and move to a different alley when Jacob turned and left. The woman followed, thanking him, touching his arm, but Jacob seemed to brush off the praise. Roth could hear him muttering how it was okay, how it was his job. Jacob offered to walk her home, asked her to give him a call when she knew she was safe. Eventually, Roth got out onto the street when he could no longer hear Jacob. He watched the boy climb the stairs and back into his club. The Rooks Club sign buzzed in bright neon green, blinking and trembling and looking like it was ready to catch fire.
As he was about to leave, he spotted that boy again, in the door of the club, looking down at him. Big, curious eyes. A lopsided smile. A hand on his hip, the other against the door frame. His expression was welcoming - hell his body was welcoming. Everything was just asking Roth to walk up those steps and speak to that young man, who was looking down at him like he was hoping Roth would do so.
Roth knew what was so exciting about the Rooks.
He turned on his heel and walked down the street to his car.