𓉘🍸𓉝 ★-𝓰𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓶𝓳𝓸𝔀

𝓜ay 14th, 1983

"You want my muse? On your joint?" The manager of a nightclub performer I had ordered on a magazine was laughing at me, slapping his knee, pinching the bridge of his nose and doing all the shit I couldn't stand to see nor hear from a guy like him who apparently knew how to sort out business.

"You take me for fool, Grantz." I gave him a nonchalant response. "Because I know what I ask for when I call you that night. The telephone was to my ear and the pen was on my hand when I give your company's name the red circle."

"Sorry buddy, no can do." He wiped away a small tear. "I was either drunk or you just sounded too convincing for me to refuse, because boy, with a face like yours..." He continued laughing again.

"What so funny that make you laugh hard?" I asked him. "You squeal like the pigs right now."

"Fuck...with a face like yours." He panted. "I rather you didn't get your dirty hands on her at all!" He laughed at me again.

"I'm not making any jokes with you right now, Grantz. You must be acting like we don't already know each other. As if you didn't help me kill a communist so that we could squeeze our asses into America." I looked at him, speaking calmly in an attempt to try and convince him. "You may have gone your way since then, but don't you dare color me an asshole after that. Where I'm at right now is what gives me knowledge about what I'm doing and believe me, I know what I'm doing."

"I believe we might negotiate something." He adjusted his spectacles.

"Where I come from, there is no 'might'. If I say that I want her here, you would show her to me since this morning." I tapped the table with my index finger.

"I would have expected it from maybe another one of your homologues, but you? Pft." Grantz scoffed. "You're not the type who's really into the younglings like how Monaldi or Fabrizio are. They were my first ever clients ever since we introduced Gata into the market! It's insane!" He lightly tapped his temple with his two slender fingers.

"Grantz, don't make business hard for me. With this singer that you offer to Grimmjow, it's like angel fall from the sky!" I praised the mystery lady. "I'm losing a whole bunch, ya hear me? Only this month I lose customers and then 5% of my budget drops! I need her like you promised to me. Or are you scamming?"

"No, no, rest assured dear client, out Gata is no joke and most importantly no scam. Dare I say she's got Donna Summer feats?"

"Oh does she now?"

"Don't get too excited, because I'm not giving her away to you so easily nor any time sooner, you hear?"

"Szayel." I called him in a moment of weakness, a long pause doomed the office. "When you got your green card, how did you feel?"

"Oh! Oh? Oh, please don't break my heart! When I think of that moment, I feel like a little boy opening his Christmas presents!" He chuckled, wiping a false tear.

"Good. Because, for me, Szayel, it was the greatest feeling I've ever had. If I was clever enough, I'd punch a hole in and fuck that green card right there." I explained to him. "I got what I wanted, though. Now it's time for me to start over. I want the girl. Besides, singer in my nightclub is purely business. She sing, I fill my pockets, maybe we do little money splitting, she leave off to where she gotta leave, everybody happy."

"Pause. Before you get the girl, how do you know that I can trust you again?"

"C'mere." I gestured for him to come close. "I give you extra cash."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, 'Jow." He chuckled.

"Don't need to. The cheque is already in your pocket."

"You're kidding..." He felt his pocket and pulled out a cheque signed by him. "TWENTY GRAND?!" He slapped his forehead.

"It's for tonight and..." I hesitated. "I think I'll book her for the entire week."

"All so fucking worth it." He got up, fixed his suit and extended and arm for me to shake his hand. "She's yours to keep for the entire week. Pleasure doing business with you." He vigorously shook my hand.

"Oh, please. The pleasure was all mine. I have to ask though: How long do you plan on keeping your word before you steal her away from me cuz of some "emergency" that I apparently did not expect that takes her away from Miami and more importantly, takes her away from me without even completing her deadline? The one we agreed on just now?"

"Oh, 'Jow. You know, I...I am a small business, for your standards, at least. All I do is take the losers who can sing and make them beyond socially acceptable. It's really generous of you to do something like this for me. Y'know...I'll forever be grateful for this." He said his voice quavering in excitement.

"Tell you what, Grantz. I invite you to Las Noches' grand re-opening as repayment. The stargirl sit there on her little stage, sing her little song, yeah?" I explained to him. "But for you and I, Grantz, you meet my friends, there be booze, concha, mujeres, music, eh?"

"Not really my speed, Gabriel. You're a very good man and I respect your kind offer, but I got a little Bongiovi in my department to keep an eye on, really talented kid. I'm willing to make the guy a big star like, he's an angel-" I cut Szayel off.

"Man, fuck the Bongiovi and fuck you too if you say no to me. There's no 'no' with me. Not while I'm still alive. You gonna come, you gonna have a lot of fun and you gonna keep your mouth shut. You did your job, now I do mine. Las Noches open tonight at 8. I want you there, no questions. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, get outta my sight." I ordered as I lit a cigar.

"Greedy cocksucker." I mumbled to myself just as the door closed. "I be generous to him, he want to fuck me by suddenly being so thankful. He'll see. He'll see who's the boss around here." Then, I mocked the way he talked to me, mad about his hypocrisy.

****

"Szayel, I would like to welcome you to: Las Noches." I brought the manager to the forefront of the bar, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "I invest for 3 years into this baby and she's out here like a...a mini Las Vegas. I feel like a proud papá when I lay eyes on her."

"She is something to be proud of."

"I give you tour around, okay? So, here we got the nine muses, eh? Calliope and all that shit? And then you got the big lights, the Las Noches, chicks die for the big light." I explained to him as we entered. "By the way, the little singer of yours, when she arrive?"

"Oh, it's early for her." Szayel checks the time, it already having struck a quarter past nine. "She doesn't come here until half an hour. She just did a show in Tampa and has been on a long drive since six o'clock. You gonna have to wait for her, y'know?"

"Right, as I was saying. Here's the reception. I add some velvet red and gold touches here, because it makes it look expensive, hermosa, eh...no sé." I guide him further as we go down a flight of stairs.

"Here. Here the party room, we save this bit for later, mmh?" I went all the way to the other side of the club and we entered a more quiet place. "This is the mirror hall. I figured I turn this place into a hotel-club kind of thing and it work like magic! Everyone come into my suites, they pay me in hard cash and I still can't believe my eyes! We leave the suites for another time, that don't matter a lot right now." We went back and circled the place once more.

"Whatever you do, no matter how bad ya gotta take a leak, ALWAYS check those bathrooms. You find all sorts of shit in there, you never know. When you with me, you never enter! Ah, here we go, nicer place. The bar." I ushered him forth and I leaned on the counter.

"Moreno!" I slammed a fist on the counter and jokingly yelled for the bartender to come. "I'll be damned if you don't get me and my friend a drink tonight!"

"Damn boss. You be makin' friends faster and better than I ever could. What's ya secret, hot shot?" Moreno came and swiftly wiped up two tumblers.

"Confidence, Moreno. Confidence. It's how you always gonna win. Besides, why you with no friends? It's a shame you have none, hijo. You a good boy, so quick, so simple, so slick, you were made for friends, man. When you gonna find girlfriend that go with friends, huh? Life too short, you gotta have some fun, y'know what I'm sayin'?" I said to the bartender as our Scotches were ready and sliding off the counter. Thanks, More', here's a tip."

"No, no tips, boss." He humbly declined.

'Shut the fuck up." I rummaged through my pocket. "You gonna accept it and spend it, like a good boy." I slammed $600 dollars and slid them forward to him.

"How much is this?"

"Yah, count when you get home, Moreno." I swatted his question with my hand. "And find a girlfriend while you're at it!"

"Yes sir."

"Attaboy." I cheered the boy on, who then went to give out orders to other tables. "You like Scotch?"

Szayel simply nodded and downed the iced tumbler.

"Ay, ay." I spudded his shoulder. "It's cold, don't drink too fast."

"It's fine. I'm used to it."

I walked forward to a table with 8 businessmen and a businesswoman, staring at me from afar.

"Eh? What you doing standing there? Come, come. I want you to meet my friends, chico." I ushered once more for him to follow me. "Familia! Como estamos?"

"Ahh, Vasquez!" A tan man with short brown hair gave me a brotherly hug. "Where you been, amigo?"

"Eh, looking after my investments, that's what!" The group all laughed in unison. "But seriously, man I been living my best life ever since! Makin' this kind of money in only three years? That, I call success."

"Who's the new guy?" The man asked.

"Oh him? This is Santiago Grantz Pereira." I spudded him. "Street name, Szayelaporro, Szayel for short. He helped me get outta Castro's filthy ass. We kill a communist together, eh?" I chuckled.

"Nice to meet you, muchacho. You seem off color, though. Scotch?" The man offered his tumbler.

"No...I just had one."

"Szayel, this is Alejandro Sanz Contreras. Street name, Coyote Starrk." Starrk got up from his seat and shook Szayel's sweaty palm. "He's from east side of Florida, real good friend of mine."

"This, is Luis Boaz Barrera. Street name, Barragan. He's from Cali." Then, I mumbled into Szayel's ear. "He's also fuckin' old too."

"Fuck you, Grimmjow!"

"Yeah, yeah. Gimme a kiss after the party's over, Barragan." I moved onto the next one. "Hala Al-Mahmoudi. Street name, Halillbel. Cute Egyptian lady, don't bother shakin' her hand tho. She hates men"

"Mind you, I'm married, Vasquez."

"I really wish I was you right now, Hals." I chuckled. "Anyway, Manuele Quellora. Street name, Ulquiorra. He from New York, he's a fuckin' pendejo, I grow up with him, we fucked around a lot, I pinch this guy in the ass with a snake!" I laughed.

"Oh, let's also not forget, we were both in a sanatorium for TB."

"Fuckin' hell man, you make me sound weak in front of the new guy, man! What's wrong with you tonight?!" I laughed at him and gave his shoulder a nudge.

"Here, we got the skinny whore. NNOITRA!!" I surprised the tall man I was standing behind from.

"Shit! What the hell is wrong with..."

"Me?"

"HOLY! JOW!" He gave me a tight hug. "Aw man, I thought I would never see you again, man. I thought the boat choppers fucked you up for a second, man. Not a single word from you for three years! I'm so happy you here now!"

"Ah, it's nothing, man." I introduced him to Szayel. "This, is Narciso Gonzales Gallego. Street name, Nnoitra Gilga. He from New Jersey and he a piece of shit too."

"Aye, fuck you, man!" He laughed.

"And then, there's me. Gabriel Javier Vasquez. Street name, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, I from Florida and I own the fuckin' place."

"You set it up real nicely for my Juana to perform in. Like I don't even regret letting you have her."

"Of course you don't, chico. She was my decision in the first place. Maybe it would be more calma if you would have said 'yes' to me in the first place, but here we are. We can't bring shit back now, okay?"

"Alright, you're the boss."

"Good boy." I patted his back and left him there.

"Oh? Um...Grimmjow? Where you going, man?" Szayel followed him.

I climbed a short flight of stairs that leaded me backstage, but a roadie was stopping me from entering.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

"I want to see the girl."

"Sir, would you please step back. Miss DeGata will not accept neither fans nor paparazzi invading her personal space."

"Fan?! Paparazzi?! I own the fuckin' place, man! I'm the owner of Las Noches and I want to see the girl that I asked to come here. C'mon man, she's booked here for the entire week, ya gotta be kidding me here."

"Miss DeGata will not be ready until 5 minutes is up." The roadie looked at their watch, explaining the situation to me.

"Man, get the fuck outta here." The roadie being shorter than me, was rather easy to lift and move around, move around as in throw in the air and slam unconscious, which allowed me my backstage pass.

*knock knock.*