“What’s your name?”

“What does it matter? You’ll all be dead before the sun rises.”

“Athena, why are we still-”

“Be quiet, Tank. Now, friend, your name?”

“You expect me to give you my name when all you people use are aliases? Then why don’t you just refer to me by mine?”

“Athena, we have a job to do. The Death Weaver is to be put down. He’s a fucking terrorist. He kills Chosen.”

“I know, Riot. But I’d still like to know his name.”

“Then tell me, ‘Athena’, why don’t you give me yours?”

“...”

“That’s what I thought. You know as well as I do that names are pointless. There’s no reason to cling to them when all they do is shackle you to a person you no longer are. Names haunt you in your sleep, prey on your mind while you fend off the shadows of the night. So th-”

“...tha.”

“...What?”

“My name. It’s Samantha.”

I was jostled awake by the train screeching to a stop, pressing my body into the bars next to my seat. I looked around to see everyone getting up, and groaned lightly as I heaved myself to my feet.

“This stop is ‘Prince Street’. Next stop is ‘8th Street’.” The pleasant robotic voice of the announcer chimed as the doors hissed open. I shuffled my way out of the car along with everyone else, and was immediately assaulted by the stench of piss that seemed to pervade the subway station. That was one thing I don’t think I’d ever get used to again. The odor that my world was steeped in, compared to Yarla.

Going along with the crowd, I eventually climbed up the steps that led to the busy nightlife of New York. The noise of the city blanketed me in it's comforting embrace, drowning out my thoughts, swallowing them with the roar of car horns and footsteps on concrete. That was one thing that my world had on Yarla. The abundance of white noise.

I checked my watch, noting that I had about thirty minutes to get to the club before it was opened to customers. Which meant I was almost late.

I strode through the crowd, light posts flashing on as the sky dimmed, reds and oranges slowly giving way to purple and grey. The September weather, as well as the city itself, made sure that even at night it stayed a warm seventy degrees, which I certainly appreciated. I’d be spending the second half of my shift outside.

I walked on, making the trip half subconsciously, my mind slowly wandering, until I glanced out of the corner of my eye to see a few kids wearing black hoodies huddled in a circle on one of the streets that narrowed down into a dead end. Even through the new york noise my hearing was able to pick out their conversation, in the brief moment I had before I passed by them.

“Bro, literally all you have to do is stand watch, I don’t get why it’s such a big deal.”

“Yeah, but what if-”

“Whatever, I knew you’d bitch out. Mark, go ahead and hit up Steph. He could use the gig.”

“No wait, I’ll…”

And the conversation was gone, as was the group, as I continued on. I made a mental note of what they were wearing, but other than that I let them be. I wasn’t going to be late because of a couple of kids. Not like I could judge them, whatever they were doing.

After about five more minutes of walking I finally turned down the street where the club was, neon light shining off of the pavement, casting a purple glow against the dim light of what remained of the sun.

I stopped at the steps that led up to the club, looking up at the sign.

Electra.

The name was simple enough, and other than the bright purple sign over the entrance or the doors that were more recessed into the tall four story building than normal, there was no indication that it was anything other than another shop. That was, until the doors swung open, and a tall black man walked out whistling, carrying a few stanchions.

He jumped when he saw me. “Oh shit! Oh, what’s up Jason?” He shouted, startled, his voice raised but quickly coming back down as he continued walking towards me. “Fuck you scared me.”

He climbed down the steps, setting the stanchions down and putting his hand up. I took it, clapping him on the back while he did the same. “What’s up Cole. You’ve got door duty for the opening shift?” I asked, and he nodded.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Yeah, I do. Going to be a boring ass couple of hours.” He said ruefully, starting to connect a couple of the stanchions together. Then he turned back to me. “Oh yeah, Mr. Lee wanted to see you.”

I nodded, walking up the couple of steps past him. “Yeah, Lisa told me. Thanks.”

He continued whistling and I pushed open the doors, stepping through the opening area and up to the booth, where Angie was already sitting at. She smiled when she saw me, brown eyes glinting.

“Hey Jace.” She greeted, voice light and merry. She stood up and leaned over the counter. “You’re in trouble.”

I shook my head, rolling my eyes. “So people keep telling me.” I muttered, waving her off and resuming my walk.

If the exterior of the club was unassuming, then the interior was anything but. The space was large, and leather couches lined the walls, as did a few booths that had short square tables centered between them. Private rooms dotted the area, and the walls, ceiling, and floor were inlaid with glass strips that held neon lights within them, which would be turned on once the club opened up.

I made my way past the bar, currently empty, to the back hallway next to it. It was long, with more private rooms that lined the sides, but the only one I needed to get to was at the very end. Pausing in front of the door, I took a deep breath, and knocked.

“Come in.” The voice on the other end permissed, and I pushed it open.

Mr. Lee’s office was small, but if I had to describe it with one word, ‘cozy’ would be the most fitting. A large carpet covered the floor, and bookshelves lined the walls, white binders fitting into them snugly, each labeled with a different month and year. Two lamps basked the room with a warm golden glow, where Mr. Lee was sitting at his desk, with two comfortable looking leather chairs opposite of it.

Mr. Lee was an older asian man, with a stern handsomeness that came with his age and small wrinkles that were only just starting to form around his eyes and on his forehead. He had on his reading glasses, which had slipped halfway down his nose as he quietly wrote something in one of his white binders. He glanced up at me, then resumed his work, but gestured with his other hand towards one of the chairs.

“Please, take a seat Mr. Takada.”

I obliged, sinking into the chair as I sat down, the leather cool against my skin. I waited patiently for him to finish his accounting. Mr. Lee disliked being interrupted while he worked.

After a few minutes he closed his binder with a snap, standing up and sliding it neatly into one of the book shelves. He turned to look at me, motioning at the mini fridge tucked away in the back corner.

“Would you like something to drink?”

I shook my head. “No, thank you. Lisa owes me a drink already, so I’ll have that later.”

He nodded, moving back towards his own chair and sitting down. “Ah yes, the incident that occurred last night.” He leaned back, clasping his hands over his chest. “Tell me, do you know who that young man was?”

“Should I?”

“No, I suppose not. I’ve never made mention of him before, but… that young man is my nephew.”

Oh. I scratched the back of my head, unsure of how to respond, but Mr. Lee gave me a small smile.

“Please Mr. Takada, don’t be nervous,” he chuckled, “I heard that he made quite the fool of himself. If you hadn’t done it, I’d have asked Derek or Gavon to handle the problem. It was about time he learned manners befitting someone of his age.”

I breathed a little in relief, then frowned. “If that wasn’t what this was about, then forgive me for asking, but why did you want to see me?”

Mr. Lee studied me for a few moments, as if trying to decide what to say. “Tell me, Mr. Takada, do you enjoy working here?”

“I’m sorry?”

He sighed, taking off his glasses. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but when Lisa first recommended you as a new hire last year I was skeptical. My father, you see, was a soldier in the army. He served in Vietnam. You had the same eyes as he did, when he came back home. Someone who had seen too many things. Experienced too much to adjust back to civilian life. I’ve seen how men like that can be, and I’d always made it a point not to hire them. A lot of the time it ends poorly.”

Spinning my ring around my finger, I nodded. “Mr. Lee, are you firing me?”

He laughed and waved his hand, shaking his head.

“Far from it. Your time while employed in the service of my club has since made me change my mind. You act nothing like what I’ve come to expect from men like that. I’m sure everyone else under my employment would sorely miss you being here. Don’t tell them I said so, but everyone has nothing but good things to say about you. But your eyes, Mr. Takada, are still the same as they were back then. Restless, discontent. Angry. So I only wanted to make sure that you enjoyed working here.”

I leaned back, still fidgeting with my ring. Did I enjoy working here? I’d never really thought about it. The thought of why I was doing this hadn’t even crossed my mind. It wasn’t like I really needed the job. So if I had to put it honestly…

“It helps me take my mind off of things.” I answered eventually. “I don’t know how I would spend my time if I wasn’t working here. Having something to do, a purpose I suppose, stops me from staying trapped in my house. So… yes. I do enjoy working for Electra.”

Mr. Lee nodded, eyes closing. He hummed for a few moments, hands uncrossing when they opened once more, and he strummed his fingers on his desk. “I see. In that case, I do have something to tell you. Some people came by yesterday before you arrived at the club, asking about you.”

I frowned again. “What did they want to know?”

He shrugged. “If you’d said something to me about anything, is what it came down to. Something about needing something to be returned? They spoke very vaguely. They also wished for me to tell you that their offer still stands, though I suppose you know more about that than I do.”

I felt a flash of irritation work its way through my body. They’d found out where I worked, and were now trying to recruit me through my own boss? I looked up at Mr. Lee and fought to keep my annoyance out of my voice. “What did you tell them?”

He smiled again, but this was a very different smile. Wolfish, almost. “I told them that if they wanted to ask about the personal lives of my employees, then to bring a warrant. And then I had Derek escort them out.”

I chuckled. Now that was the Mr. Lee I knew.

“I try not to make my employees' personal lives my business, but will I actually have to worry about them returning with a warrant?” He asked, putting on his glasses, and I shook my head.

“No, I’ll be sure to have a very thorough conversation with them. Thank you.”

As he was about to say something else I heard the phone on his desk buzz, and he clicked his tongue as he checked it. He set it down and looked at me again. “Well, in that case Mr. Takada, that’s all I needed to discuss with you. Oh, and please inform Cole that after his door shift, he’ll be handling second floor security. And don’t forget that tonight’s your night to take the money to the safe.”

I nodded, standing up. He was checking his phone again, lips drawn into a frown, so I didn’t offer any last words and left the office, already planning on buying Cole a few drinks. The one thing he hated more than the door shift was the second floor shift.