Devil

Though she was angry at Finn, she knew he was right. She had no place to get involved with someone unattached to the club. After taking a brisk walk around the area, she went back to her apartment, forgoing her cut of the £700, deciding to stay away from the Warehouse until she could figure herself out.

In a rare moment, she settled her anger by drinking a half of a bottle of gin, and dancing around her apartment. Though she wouldn't admit it, she thought of Danny for the rest of the night.
--
She woke unceremoniously to the ringing of her cell phone.

"Give me something good," she groaned into the phone, rolling over on the floor. The previous night had been worse than she thought.

"Be at the Nation in three hours."

Nebraska didn't acknowledge the comment, just hung up. With a groan and several curse words, she made her way into her bathroom. She looked like hell. Her short hair flew out in all directions, the magenta now fading to a light brown. Her eyeliner had smeared, giving her the eyes of a raccoon, or a criminal, and her corset had turned during the night, effectively shaping her stomach and back.

Sighing, she looked at the clock. She still had nearly the full three hours before she needed to grace the small club. It was plenty of time.

When she left, the magenta streak had given way to a cyan dye. She arrived at the Nation, a small club tucked away in the high-brow London scene, with four minutes to spare. That night she had decided on a deep purple corset, decorated with pink flowers, and a black skirt. In addition to the custom boots and necklace, she wore a black diamond ring.

Regardless of the fancy frocks, Nebraska felt out of place. The Nation wasn't large, but was elaborate; the dance floor was hidden away by a pair of tall wooden doors, and the entrance was framed by black and white marble steps with a looping black railing, that led to a balcony. There was a reason she didn't spend a lot of time here.

"Glad to see you could make it," Sam called down to her, descending the circular staircase.

Sam was older than she was, easily 35 or 36. Though the Kid had control over this club, Sam ran the day to day operations. He certainly looked the part of the people he entertained, sporting a black sports jacket, and a white tie.

"Like the hair," he commented, giving her a kiss on both cheeks.

"Thank you."

The two strolled through the doors and onto the dance floor. Despite being 11:30, the club was empty save for a lone bartender.

"Private party," he clarified, leading her to a set of black, metal steps leading to the balcony.

"I called you because, well, I need a favour." Nebraska wasn't one to withhold favours. Sam had helped her out a couple of times with personal issues, and though she didn't like seeing him or talking to him, the Kid respected him, and so did she, by default.

"Of course, Sam."

"I'm going out for the night. An engagement." For a moment, he blushed, and he looked much younger than his years. Whatever this engagement was, he was excited.

"I need you to watch the club. Like I said, it's a private party. All you have to do is sit on the balcony. They've been instructed not to go up there."

"What type of party?"

"Just a stag."

"Fancy place for a stag. Cameras still on?" It was club policy to have cameras on at all times. Every one of the Kid's places had them, and even Nebraska's apartment was outfitted. When dealing with druggies and dealers, one couldn't be too careful.

Sam nodded, distracted by the ringing of his phone.

"You're the best. They'll be here in an hour." With that, he kissed her on both cheeks, and left, slamming the doors shut in his haste. She carefully climbed the metal staircase, and sat at a table close to the middle of the club. Satisfied that she could see everything, Nebraska pulled out her phone and texted the Kid.

'Sent me off to Sam's, I see.'
'I thought a change might do you good.'

She chose not to respond, and instead messed around on the internet. The news bored her, but there was little else to do.

True to Sam's word, the party arrived in an hour. They were already tipsy, but dressed very elegantly in button-down shirts and vests. One of them, which she assumed was the future groom, was dancing with a blonde boy, despite the lack of music. Another man fixed that, attaching his iPod to the complex stereo system. The men, and a few women that Nebraska assumed were strippers, made their way to the dance floor with several bottles of alcohol lifted from the bartender. She bounced her heel in time with the music, a pop hit she recognized from the radio.

She soon went back to her phone, occasionally glancing down at the party to watch the drunken men dancing. Within a few minutes, more women came, probably more strippers, and joined the party. They were probably going to make a lot of money.

When she looked up again, a lot of time had passed. The men were extremely drunk, and laughing loudly to the repetitive music. The playlist was not that big.

She turned, startled, as the door creeped open, revealing Danny with two drinks. Nebraska tried hard to keep her face composed as delight and confusion came forward. He came and sat down across from her, seemingly not seeing her dilemma, and set the second drink down beside her phone. She tentatively took a sip, and tasted the familiar raspberry vodka.

"Stalking isn't very attractive," she smirked.

"I like to think of it as fate."

"Perhaps you should rethink your definition."

"What happened to the purple?"

"Magenta lost a coin toss."

"I've been thinking about you today."

"You shouldn't have."

Danny moved his chair closer to her. She could smell the cologne he'd put on, and the alcohol on his breath. His brown hair fell into his eyes, and it took all of her willpower to not brush it away. He was dressed dapperly, wearing a white button-down shirt and a silver vest. He'd even rolled up his sleeves, exposing the tattoos on his arm.

He set his drink down next to hers, and slid his hand on her thigh. Despite her tights, she could feel the warmth of his hand.

"You're drunk," she murmured, trying to distract him. It didn't work. He was only looking at her lips.

"Dance with me," he whispered.

She shouldn't. She knew that her answer should be no.

"Why should I?" she whispered instead, as his hand moved up her thigh.

"Because you want to." Admittedly, Nebraska wanted many things at that moment, and dancing was barely one of them. She quickly looked down at the club, gyrating in time with the beat. She didn't recognize the bartender. Sam usually hired his own people, not following the odd rotation schedule the rest of the clubs seemed to be on.

She turned back to Danny, who had leaned forward, his lips now by her ear.

"One song," she murmured, standing. Though he was caught off guard, Danny smiled, finishing his drink, and taking her by the hand to the dance floor.

They danced for six. His hands were everywhere as they danced, perpetually getting her lost in him as she tried to leave. At only 5'7 in her heels, Nebraska was several inches below Danny, and he had to bend down slightly as they danced, brushing her neck and shoulders with his lips.

As the seventh song began, she gently pushed him away, leaving the club altogether and stepping outside for air. A quick glance at her phone told her that it was nearly 3:30. Nebraska was itching to leave, but knew that she should wait for Sam.

She turned to go back into the club, nearly running into Danny, who had followed her out.

"What, leaving so soon?" he asked.

"And what if I was?"

"I'd leave with you."

"I wasn't asking you to join me."

Danny just looked at her, breathing heavily in the cool night.

In perfect time, a cab slid to a stop just behind her, startling the pair as Sam stepped out of the car. She could hear the laughter as he exited and the cab sped away.

"How are the children?" Sam slurred, kissing Nebraska on both cheeks, and giving an appreciative wink to Danny. Somehow, the very drunk man managed to stumble into the club, slamming the doors behind him.

Nebraska took that as an opportunity to leave, walking away from the Nation without her coat or her profits. She wasn't even entirely sure that she was walking the right way, but kept going. She could fix being lost once she was away from Danny.

"Nebraska!" he called after her. She just ignored him, hoping that he wouldn't follow, as she reached a crosswalk. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him still standing there, hoping she'd come back.

Just as the light turned, one of the men from the stag came outside, looking for Danny.

"What the fuck're you standing out here for? The partie's inside!" he yelled.

Nebraska started to cross the street, trying to ignore her conflicting feelings as she nearly got hit by a car.

Danny soon went back inside, and Nebraska called a cab. Neither of their nights had gone according to plan.