Xmen Fanfic: You're on the Guest List Chp3
Title: You're On The Guest List
Summary: Charles lives a double life. Respectable Oxford professor by day, party extraordinaire at the weekend. But now everything is imploding, he can hear voices in his mind, and his flatmate is becoming increasingly magnetic.
Chapter One Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Three: Saturday Night in Hellfire
Sebastian Shaw was Charles' ex. They had been 'together' two months, until Charles became concerned with Shaw's controlling behaviour, and moved himself just out of his grasp. He was the only man Charles had ever been in a relationship with, and then he'd only agreed because he hadn't known how to say no. Shaw was a frightening man, and once he hooked you in, you were considered his property. Charles hadn't been treated any differently, and when he refused to commit, it had only made Shaw more possessive.
Shaw liked to collect people, taking them out only when he wanted to play with them. But the thing that terrified Charles most was, that in Shaw's world, the weekend would never end. He could have forgotten who he was, what he wanted, and Shaw could have taken it all. Charles had seen the trap, and realised that this was one game he couldn't win. He had been way over his head. The only thing he had been still free to do, had been to run.
Charles knew he was the one unobtainable thing in Sebastian Shaw's life. He had set the challenge himself, being that he couldn't be bought with money like so many others had been. Shaw couldn't impress him with flash spending, gifts or taking him to expensive places. In that way, Charles had been in control, he could have called the shots had he wanted to. Had Shaw not terrified him right down into his very soul, they could have been an interesting team. But Charles had wanted out, and Shaw couldn't forgive him.
By the time Erik managed to free himself from Shaw's clutches, he felt sick. His mind was racing with all possible scenarios. Why the hell had Charles never given him his phone number? And why the hell had he never asked for it? They were both in some stupid stand off, where neither would now make a move towards even friendship, let alone anything else. All this secrecy was going to get someone hurt. If it hadn't already.
Erik didn't know what Charles had been playing at, involving himself with someone as scary as Sebastian Shaw. How had they even met each other anyway? All the while he rode the Tube back to the flat, he ran through possible scenarios. But knowing so little about Charles gave him nothing concrete to go on.
The worst that crossed Erik's mind, was that Charles was some kind of high-class rent boy. He seemed to have a lot of money to throw around, and never mentioned where it came from. In fact, Charles was shady about a lot of things. The thought made Erik uncomfortable, but the more it swam around in his head, the more plausible it seemed. Where exactly did Charles go all week? Did he rent rooms all over the city? Erik had never stayed in all night on a Saturday when Charles had been around, there was no way he could be sure Charles didn't invite people back to the flat.
By the time Erik reached home he felt frantic. He burst through the door calling Charles' name, but the place was empty. Erik felt his heart sink, it was too late, Charles was already out. But whilst everything else was quiet, the computer was blinking, as if it was still on standby. Erik knocked the mouse, and the machine started whirring back into life. The screen quickly turned from black to colour, and a message appeared. Windows has recovered from an unexpected shutdown. Restore to your session? Erik clicked yes, and the screen returned to it's last opened internet page. An email account, and one email had been opened already.
Can I make an appointment with you soon? Hank.
"What the hell?" Erik asked. Was Charles conducting his business through email? Was this the modern way to solicit business? And who was Hank? A regular?
Erik closed the page down. He had no desire to go reading anything else. He felt angry. Why did Hank have Charles' email, and he didn't? He was willing to bet Hank had Charles' phone number too, and he was really starting to hate Hank. Marching into Charles' room, he stared at the unmade bed, and wondered how many people had been in there. Not that they had ever made any rules on bringing 'guests' home, so he could hardly complain. Then Erik paused, he didn't know why he was feeling so annoyed. Charles was a grown man. He had the right to make money however he chose, and apparently according to his wallet, be was pretty darn good at it.
But what stung was that it seemed Shaw had gotten to Charles before him. Erik had lost out to him, because he'd been too slow to act. And, if he didn't get a move on now, he was going to lose out again.
The whole time that Erik showered, his mind kept drifting to places he knew it was wrong to be imagining. He shocked himself with his own readiness to find paying Charles appealing. He half wondered whether if Charles walked through the door now, he would be able to stop himself from asking: "How much? Name your price and I'll pay it." But it was just a mad fantasy. As soon as the hot water turned off, and the room chilled him, he knew that wasn't what he wanted from Charles. Erik was beginning to wonder whether this obsession was turning into something much more. There had to be something wrong with him.
But it was too late to save Charles from tonight, all Erik could hope for was to limit the damage.
It was almost eleven by the time Charles and Raven arrived at Hellfire, as expected the line to get in was stretching around the block. Those who waited were looking over each other's shoulders excitedly, still optimistic that they would manage to make it through the doors. Charles could already tell that tonight was going to be a good one, the buzz in the air was full of people determined to enjoy themselves. He could hear music already, and as he and Raven approached the entrance, he tried not to notice that he was getting envious looks from those still queuing.
Charles could hear the heavy bass every time the doors opened, and as he stood and waited for the doorman to find his man on the list, he could hear Snoop Dogg wanting to make everyone sweat. He could tell that Raven wanted to dance, since her head was already moving to the beat. After a few seconds that seemed like a lifetime, the doorman beckoned them in, and they were given plastic VIP cards on red glitter lanyards. Charles saw that his name was printed upon his, whereas Raven's simply said 'plus one.'
"Oh!" Raven exclaimed as they walked inside. "Woah, we're in a steel works!"
Raven's explanation for the décor seemed more fitting than anything Charles could think up. The main club area was covered in warped metal, it looked as if it had been wrenched down from the ceiling, and had melted down the walls. The DJ was suspended above the crowd in a strange cage like structure, which looked as if it too had gotten too near to the fire. He was the reigning God over the dancers, on his head, a miner's hat, it's light flashing on and off, stopped from falling to his death by the safety harness wrapped tightly around him. Charles supposed the theme they were going for was 'industrial dirt'. It was insanely clever.
"Come on, let's dance," Raven suggested.
It was after a few shots of sambuca, and a Corona, that Charles realised he was dancing with people he didn't know, singing "I ride this mother****ing beat like a tractor," and he'd lost sight of Raven. But in return he had just spotted someone unexpected. Erik was staring at him from an upper level of the club, leaning over the warped railing, unmoving like a statue. Charles wondered how long he had been there, and why hadn't he said he was coming here tonight too?
Pushing himself out of the crowd, Charles searched for a way upstairs. Suddenly the club seemed like a maze, and he'd been drinking too much to make sense of it. But suddenly someone was demanding to see his pass, and Charles couldn't co-ordinate himself quickly enough. The man grabbed the pass from around his neck and inspected it.
"Carry on sir."
Charles didn't know where he was likely to end up once he walked up these stairs, but now that he'd annoyed the bouncer, he didn't feel he could back out and go another way. There was no one else around, and when he finally reached the top, he quickly realised that this wasn't where he wanted to be at all. The walls slowly turned from steel to red, and the floor into soft carpet. It looked like a retro style gentlemen's club, and just as predicted, girls were dancing around poles at the far left of the room.
"I wouldn't have thought this was your kind of thing," someone said from behind him.
Charles felt a shiver run up his spine. He knew that voice. It was one that he'd hoped he wouldn't be hearing again… ever. Shaw had his hands on him before he knew what was happening, and he was being guided through a door, and into the backrooms of the club.
"How are you Charles?" Shaw asked. They emerged back into the main club; long enough for Charles to see he was now on the balcony he'd seen Erik standing on.
"I'd be better, if you told me where you're taking me," Charles replied. He tried to keep the nervousness out of his voice, but he owed Shaw, and he wasn't expecting to get out this lightly.
"Always the joker Charles," Shaw said, his voice was playful, but Charles knew how quickly he could turn. It was best to keep smiling, and pretend that seeing Shaw again was exactly what he had been hoping would happen tonight. "I just thought we could spend some time together, away from all the noise."
"I like the noise," Charles replied. He would never say anything, but he was sure there was more noise in his head than there was in anyone else's right now.
"I know, but just be nice to me tonight Charles, please," Shaw said. He might have spoken with a smile, but he squeezed Charles' arm so tight that it was painful.
Charles looked into his face. There was no mercy behind those eyes. He didn't know how he was going to get out of this mess. He didn't even know where he was, the club was like a labyrinth, and he couldn't understand how Shaw knew where he was going.
Shaw led him into another room, which appeared to be a restaurant. It was pretty empty at this time; only a few people remained eating chips to soak up the drinks of the night.
"Why don't you take a seat? We'll have something to eat," Shaw instructed.
Charles chose a seat where he could keep an eye on the door, and made a show of looking over the menu. What he wanted to do was text Raven, but his mind when blank when Erik walked in, and Shaw shook his hand.