Night Rider

Frankie

... A few years later ...

The bodies crammed inside the Dollhouse pulsed with the music. Barbie weaved effortlessly through the mob, and Frankie trailed her. It was weird to view this as a "workplace." She supposed Barbie did. And now she was supposed to. Whenever Frankie started to dissociate, her mind would do what she had trained it to do all day. The music drowned out all other thoughts, and people started to stand out around her. The guy in the corner lighting a smoke. That was not nice. This was a rich man, slinking around the edges of the youthful club. No he wasn't here to party. He had business to do. A girl's well-practiced fake laugh pierced through the beats. Frankie found her among the standing tables. The drink that was bought for her was hardly touched. Sure, she could be one of Barbie's "dolls," looking to make a little money off these men in her off-hours, or she could work in the same trade as Frankie: secrets. Frankie had a few strippers and streetwalkers supplying her information. Barbie had reached a door and ushered Frankie through.

The music in here was different, steamy, sexy. Through the room, a pretty specimen slithered between the men. Frankie's jaw clenched. She had always admired these girls; she had never thought she would be one of them.

"That's Rosie," Barbie said into her ear. "She's one of the only other Dolls that is doing the same thing you will. She's good at it, so she drives a Rolls Royce."

All the reasons she came here at all today came rushing back. She would be doing the same thing she had at the Diner, only this time in heels... in a Rolls Royce. Barbie led Frankie to a black "Employee's Only" door behind the stage. Inside was a nice relief from the music. She blinked like she had just walked out of a dark theater into the broad daylight. The normal lighting made her head spin after the kaleidoscope they had just walked through. Frankie observed each of the stations, with its own clothes rack and mirror, one of them occupied by a young girl applying mascara. Frankie's eyes fell on a desk empty of products. Barbie unclipped a little handbag she had been carrying with her. From it she pulled a glossy name plaque: Crystal.

"I've been saving this for someone special," she flashed Frankie a smile. Barbie slipped the nametag into the slot of the empty table. "I will provide all your clothes. We'll measure you after you sign. You will get all the Dollhouse brand makeup products. The only thing you will have to provide for yourself are your heels."

Her heels? What had she gotten herself into? If only she hadn't slipped up and exposed the Diner, she wouldn't have ever seen the Dollhouse's dressing room. It felt strange, being so unfamiliar in a place she was sure she would soon know inside and out. But she had already made up her mind before she came. This is what she was going to do.

"I have your papers in my old office."

Frankie followed Barbie through one more door. Before Barbie lorded over the club from her perch, she operated behind fake mirrors. To be fair, Frankie hadn't realized they were fake until she entered and found herself on floor level with the dancers from earlier. The smoker she had spotted earlier was now in deep conversation with a suited man. She had been right. This was a business conversation.

Barbie was obviously proud of herself. She placed herself on the visitor's side of the desk, inviting Frankie to sit in the chair. "You can use this room to brief yourself on who to target before you enter the field. Sometimes you can find something as easy as these two dealers, or all you'll find are two kids going at it against the 'wall'." Barbie pulled a glossy pink calligraphy pen from her little pouch and snapped it closed. She turned the agreement towards herself and signed her line with a flourish. Frankie found the view quite distracting. A pretty woman with her hair pulled back approached the mirror. She was wearing sunglasses inside the club. Barbie was signing the second page, oblivious to the fact that Frankie wasn't watching her show.

The woman looked through the mirror. Frankie blinked in surprise. Not at the mirror - through it. Straight at Frankie. She set down the large bag she was carrying and reached inside. Frankie cleared her throat, and Barbie looked up. What the woman pulled out was not a gun, though. Frankie apologized to Barbie for the interruption. She was on the last page of the contract.

Frankie stared in awe at the helmet in the woman's hand. The woman was holding what had to be the genuine helmet of the Rider. The woman pushed down her glasses with her free hand and winked at Frankie.

Wait, no. Had the Rider just revealed herself to her? What was happening? The longer she looked, the more she seemed to recognize the woman. Barbie clicked the pen closed and looked up to find Frankie staring past her at the club. She turned to see what was so interesting.

The woman dropped the helmet in the bag and turned her gaze to the dance floor just in time.

She pulled out the acting she had used every day at the Diner. No one is trying to communicate with me. I'm paying attention to you. "Sorry," Frankie said. "Your two-sided mirror is genius."

Barbie smiled tolerantly. She turned the page to Frankie, set the pen on the table, and slid it towards her. "You'll sign with both names - Frankie and Crystal."

She was watching the mirror with the sharp peripheral vision she had trained for years. The woman was shaking her head "no". Frankie picked up the pen and swallowed. She was having second thoughts because of this random lady with a motorcycle helmet? Barbie was watching her keenly. What did the woman expect her to do? Stand up and walk out?

But what if it was really the Rider? Did she know something Frankie didn't? Was she willing to offer her a better position?

She lowered the pen to the paper. The woman signaled to her with a thumb sliding across her throat. A threat to Frankie? To Barbie? Was she trying to say that she killed the Rider? Frankie stilled her thoughts. She took the risk and flicked her eyes past her possible employer to the window. She gestured as if she was going to set the pen down. The woman with Rider's helmet nodded. Barbie spun. The woman was fast. She was not caught.

"I don't think I can do this, Barbie. I deeply apologize, but I would like some more time to consider after having seen the place in full. You must understand, I have never been employed by anyone but myself. This is a big change."

Barbie was not afraid to show her disapproval. Her special treatment was retracted in an instant. "Think very hard about what you are about to do. I have shown you the secrets of the Dollhouse. If you walk away, my offer is invalid."

Frankie stood up, now at level with Barbie. "I'm sure." She was surprised at the relief that swept through her. She had never wanted to do this, she realized.