Ultimate Fantasy Chapter Eight
The next two weeks were the best that Spoony had known since graduating college. He no longer had to stand in front of people completely naked. He was doing honest hard work, and while it was exhausting, fetching and carrying and lifting and building, at the end of the day he had Linkara to fall into bed with him, to hold him all through the night. They had a regular salary now, which, while lower than they could have made performing, was at least reliable. There was no sign of Mercer through it and Spoony began to hope that Critic had managed to sort it all out, that they wouldn’t hear from him again.
They weren’t just working, though. During their time off, Linkara and Spoony wasted no time in planning a wedding. They agreed that they didn’t want a big church ceremony or party or anything like that-not that they had anyone to invite to a big wedding except Harvey and their coworkers. Spoony doubted that even their parents would want to come, considering that none of them had been given any more than vague information about the life that Spoony and Linkara had been living for the past three years.
Not that their insistence that they were going to have a quiet ceremony with no party afterward stopped anyone else from planning otherwise. The moment their coworkers had learned that they were going to get married, all of them had started making elaborate plans and jokes and all sorts of nonsense. Critic had even asked if they could legally get married, to which Linkara responded that they were planning to elope to Iowa where they definitely could. Which meant that none of them were invited. At all.
“You need witnesses,” Chick said when Linkara said that.
“Yeah,” Linkara said. “And we’re taking Harvey and Joe.”
Chick pouted. “Come on. I’ve supported you from the start. Why do you think I let you do the duo? If anyone deserves to go…”
“You’ll stand there and make smart remarks the whole time,” Spoony said. “And don’t you have a rehearsal to run? We’re re-opening tomorrow night.”
“Don’t you have a set to build?” she retorted.
“We’re working,” Linkara said. “You’re standing here haranguing us about an event that won’t take place for several months.”
Teasing and nagging aside, Spoony was very glad that he had something to look forward to. While Critic had managed to temporarily solve their problem-and it amazed Spoony that their boss had stuck his neck out for them-they all knew it wasn’t over and that Mercer wouldn’t stop his vendetta against them. Spoony should not have been so nervous about a show opening, especially one he wasn’t in, but he couldn’t help but worry.
And when the night came, Spoony’s nerves got so bad that he could barely function. Unfortunately, an hour before opening, he and Linkara were being told to do so many things that he could barely catch his breath. “Relax,” Linkara whispered as they dashed around. “Once they get started, Chick says we can sit it out in our room until it’s over.”
Spoony nodded, and they managed to get everything in place before Joe opened the doors and started letting people in. Once the club opened, Chick nodded at them. “Okay, boys, go to your dressing room and don’t let anyone know you’re still here. We can only keep this up as long as you’re invisible.”
“You got it,” Linkara said, taking Spoony’s hand and pulling him into the dressing room. It was so familiar, so comforting, with the bright lights and mirrors all around. Linkara smiled sadly as they went in.
“Wondering if we’ll ever use this place for its intended purpose again?” Spoony asked, sitting down in his usual chair.
“Kind of,” Linkara admitted, pulling his chair up next to Spoony. “I mean, we’ve spent the last year as headliners, putting on makeup and stupid outfits, and now we’re hiding back here as stagehands.”
“Yeah,” Spoony agreed. “But at least Chick didn’t give it to her new headliners. She’s letting us keep this, at least.”
“Probably because she knows that once this is over, we’ll be back anyway.” Linkara sighed and looked at Spoony. “So how long do we have to wait here?”
“Six hours,” Spoony said. “For which we won’t be paid, but that’s all right.”
“We’re getting paid for the rest of the time,” Linkara agreed. “Though why we stay here instead of just going home and coming back…”
“If we stay here, Critic knows where we are and he’s not worrying about Mercer finding us and fucking everything up again,” Spoony said. “And he’s right. Out there, we can’t be sure of anything. In here, we’re invisible. As long as we’re invisible, we’re safe.”
Linkara nodded. “So what are we going to do for the next six hours?”
Spoony grinned. “I was hoping you’d ask.” He practically tackled Linkara off his chair, capturing his lips in a very enthusiastic kiss. Linkara took a moment to catch his breath before he returned the kiss, catching Spoony around the waist and pulling him into his lap, Spoony’s legs on either side of him. There was laughter and a bit of awkward repositioning before Linkara gave up and lifted Spoony onto the counter, leaning over him and kissing him more, his hand fumbling for the zipper on Spoony’s jeans. Spoony grinned and reciprocated, wrapping his legs around Linkara’s waist as soon as they were both free of their pants…
This was a good use of six hours spare time.
*
Out on the floor, Critic and Chick stood up by the DJ’s booth-not in it, on the little landing just next to it, above the crowd looking down. They often stood there on big nights, behind the speakers where it wasn’t too loud, where they could watch the spectacle and still talk to each other.
“Good turn out,” Chick commented. “Especially considering the disreputable air hanging around here.”
“That only attracts more,” Critic answered, leaning on the railing and looking at her. “People feel like badasses coming in here now because they never know if they’re going to be arrested.”
She nodded. “I guess you’re right.” They were silent for several minutes, Chick watching the dancers with a critical eye. “They’re going pretty well,” she finally concluded. “Considering they’re used to wearing less.”
Critic laughed a bit. Chick wasn’t much of a director-she had gotten the job purely because she and Critic had worked together for years and he trusted her-but she did her best to keep the show entertaining and what she lacked in skill she made up for in shouting. It worked pretty well-Critic certainly wasn’t the wealthiest strip club owner in tow, but he had carved out a niche that gave him a pretty good profit and gave Chick a sense of accomplishment. It was the best deal either of them could have gotten. “You keep telling yourself that,” he said. “At least the audience isn’t bored.”
Chick snorted. “They won’t be bored as long as there’s booze. But the dancers at least remember what they’re supposed to be doing.” Her eyes sharpened. “Well, mostly.”
“The new kid?” Critic said, nodding. “Film Brain?”
“Yeah,” she said. “He’s not a very good dancer.”
“Why’d you hire him?”
“He’s cute. And when this was a strip joint, he would have made a killing. But right now, he’s completely out of his depth.”
“At least he’s in the back.”
“Where I put him after three days.” She shook her head. “I have no idea what he’s doing here, to be honest. I mean, why would a kid from Britain end up here?”
“There could be a thousand reasons. Everyone has a different story.”
“I know. I just get the sense that he doesn’t belong on the dance floor. At all.”
“Do any of them?”
“I guess not.” She looked sad for a moment and Critic let her brood. Finally, she shook her head and looked up. “By the way, it was mighty nice of you to keep Linkara and Spoony.”
“Of course I kept them. They’re my headliners.”
“Not anymore.”
“Not right now.”
“Critic, do you really think you can beat this? I mean, he’s the mayor’s brother.”
“I have connections above that.”
“I know, so why isn’t the fucker in jail? You know what he did-”
“Yes, Chick, I do know what he did. And if Spoony had chosen to press charges, you can bet that he’d be in jail. But Spoony’s right, there’s no proof, so there’s no point in pressing charges.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Fight him in court over my issues. He doesn’t have evidence either.”
“Critic…”
“And if this gets strung out too long, I’ll use all of my connections to bring him down. Do you really think he’ll keep this up if I drop a hint to his brother about campaign sabotage?”
“He doesn’t care about campaigns…”
“But his connections do. Mine don’t.”
“That’s true,” she admitted. “But there are easier ways to deal with him.”
“Yes,” Critic agreed. “But only as a last resort.”