Crank That
Title: Crank That
Theme: Just like this (#36) - taken from 101_kisses
Genre: Friendship
Rating: PG
Notes: Hollywood ‘verse
Zander slid his dark blue Blackberry shut with a final snap. “Well, Mia’s out tonight.”
“Oh?” Lexie questioned distractedly.
Zander’s slim manicured fingers snapped sharply in front of her face, allowing her to briefly observe the perfectly buffed nails. Lexie grabbed his wrist in a purely reactionary manner, easily encircling it with her long fingers and twisting it to move the offending appendage out of the way.
“I will break you,” she warned menacingly, her eyes still roving over the crowd with ease and precision.
Zander grinned, shaking his wrist free of her strong grip. “But you won’t.”
Lexie’s narrowed leaf-green eyes finally met his olive, mirth-filled ones. “I don’t work for you anymore,” she reminded him.
“You wouldn’t hurt your precious Zander,” he said with conviction.
Lexie shook her head, and reminded herself, as she had her former charge, that she was in the club to have fun, not to play bodyguard over the filthily rich, paparazzi-thriving, pretty boy who, as far as most people could tell, was famous for being filthy rich, paparazzi friendly, and a pretty boy.
She only hardly remembered that clubs had never been her idea of fun, but these types of establishments did have alcohol, and Lexie was fond of that.
Weaving her way through the throng of people at the bar was easily accomplished, and as she waited for her drinks, she drew her long wavy brown hair into a ponytail. When she arrived back at the posh VIP couches Zander had bought for the night, he was sans-giggling-girls and glaring at her disapprovingly.
“First of all, VIP means you order drinks, and I’m supposed to be paying,” he said, opting to relieve her of the delicate martini glass and leaving her with the short tumbler. “Second of all,” he reached up and tugged at the band in her hair, eliciting a strong, “Ow!” and an awkward head jerk.
“I told you to wear your hair down,” he managed, allowing her hair to spill back over her shoulders.
“It’s hot!”
He narrowed his eyes, sweeping them up and down her body. “It gives you a that,” Lexie swore he did a mini-shimmy, “sexy-just-rolled-out-of-bed-so-think-of-me-naked look.”
“Zander-“
“Will it kill you to be a girl for one night?”
Lexie bit back a clichéd statement about Zander knowing about that and settled for seating herself beside him after a spiteful kick to his newly polished black shoes. She was sure they were Italian and expensive.
After a scornful look, Zander took a deep drink and said with far too much enthusiasm, “Let’s get you laid!”
“Let’s not,” Lexie said without intonation, knowing she only needed to wait for another bright shiny idea to distract her friend’s pretty head.
Undeterred, Zander scanned the crowd expertly. Zander could pick out beautiful people in a dim crowded room like Lexie spotted the crazies and the cameras.
He easily spotted a tall brunette, standing almost a head above the rest of the crowd. He frowned at his lack of memory. Being a socialite meant remembering everyone.
“Why do I know him?” he yelled at Lexie over the music that had increased in volume with a change in DJ.
Lexie peered through the strobe light. Between the flashes of an oncoming stroke, she recognized him eventually.
“He worked the sneak peek I had last- what the hell is he doing?” Lexie interrupted herself, bewildered at the sight before her.
The man swayed side-to-side, occasionally swiping one hand over and around the back of his head, as if he could smooth the erratic brown hair there. It looked slightly awkward and mostly unpracticed. But he persisted not-so-rhythmically to the pleasure of the petite blonde who danced opposite of him with giggles and exuberant bouncing, and to the peril of the people within elbow distance, who glanced at him with pointed annoyance when his long sharp angles came near them.
“I think he’s- I think he’s trying to do the dougie. Dougie-i-ing?” Zander questioned to himself.
“The what?”
Focusing on his companion, Zander said, “He’s dancing, Lex. You know, here it comes,” a slight break as he waited for the music, “‘teach me how to dougie, teach me, teach me how to dougie’?” His hands faux-smoothed the sides of his head in a well-adjusted mimicry of the brunette as he sang along to the song. Lexie backed away, recoiled.
“Stop that!”
Instead, Zander moved to stand in front of her, continuing to dance in exaggerated sweeping movements and managing to effectively thrust his crotch into her face in the process. She crossed her arms in front of her, turning away and laughing all the while.
When the song finally ended and another came on, Zander tugged on Lexie’s hand. “Dance!” he yelled at her.
Shaking her head frantically and remaining rooted to the booth, Lexie’s eyes flashed through the room quickly. Pursing her lips with intrigue, she gestured at a slim woman and lifted her eyes suggestively.
The woman looked almost completely out of place in the club. She angled against the bar, while the manager of the club - Zander knew most managers of most clubs - gestured towards all areas of the club. Her eyes scanned methodically, nodding at some places and twisting dark red lips in others. Attired in glasses and a gray pin-strip skirt suit that curved with her thighs and flared at her knees, her spiky black hair tipped bright blue was the only thing that might have allowed her to blend in with the trendy drunks gyrating to the music.
Zander nodded approvingly, straightening his clothes and actually running his hands through his hair. “Good idea.” Before he left, he nodded towards the pair they’d previously evaluated. “You gonna go dance with your boy?”
Lexie wrinkled her pointed nose. “I’m not really but kind of his boss, Zander. Besides, I think his dancing’s getting worse.”
Both of them glanced once more at the tall curly haired man, who was now bending his knees and enthusiastically shaking a loosely closed fist, occasionally opening it as if to release something and seemingly pausing in the motion of spanking his blonde friend’s hip.
And he was off beat.
“Least it’s not a fist pump,” he said wryly, recalling another time Lexie had had to come with him to a club and a Jersey Shore fan had enthusiastically knocked her on the head as she’d walked by.
“He could be supermanning that ho,” Lexie admitted drily.
Zander snorted. They shared a glance of rolled eyes filled with memories and amusement before Lexie shoo-ed him away and Zander proceeded towards his punk rock business goal. He told himself that one dance was all he was going to allow himself before going back to make sure Lexie didn’t spend the entire night mooning over her employee and the cute little blonde that was everything Lexie thought she wasn’t.
He worked his way through the crowd, slipping into a playfully confident grin as he approached.
Sitting at the bar, she still managed to look over the edge of her winged spectacles and down at him.
‘One dance.’
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Watch the guy on the right
As if I could come up with this on my own (though admittedly not the song I had in mind)