Marv hasn't called for me so I stay by the bar, conversing with various people and, surprisingly, having a great time. The music and atmosphere makes me feel good in all the right places and I don't even care that Kit hasn't left Marv's office yet. Marv is fine, that much is clear to me, so I refocus on my surroundings.
I've shown off my skills numerous times already, but people have yet to tire of it. I've been kissed and groped countless times, my eyes glowing and dimming rapidly. I'd be surprised if I didn't end up with mono. With every person that tests me, though, I grow more agitated. It's the only downside of spending my watch on the ground floor. I've already snapped slightly at a few people. Though they never even really noticed, too busy admiring what I can do. Some people are just oblivious to the emotions of others.
As I have a conversation with a nice, handsome young man, I notice Mike shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He's talking to someone and not liking what the other person is saying. I excuse myself and stride over to where Mike is at the other end of the bar. I stand a few paces away from him and the stranger, listening.
"Where do you get it?" The man asks nonchalantly, his words slightly slurred. I can already tell that he's faking. There's no alcohol smell coming off of him nor is he under the influence of drugs. My alarms go off.
"It's mine," Mike says nervously. "You want some or not?"
The man responds, still slurring his words slightly, "Don't you get it from someone? I thought that's how it always was, someone always reporting to someone."
Mike starts fidgeting with his fingers and throwing ugly looks at the man. "No," he says firmly. Mike's not drunk either, and even he knows something's up.
The man doesn't say anything for a long moment. "Oh well, I don't want any. I just wanted to bang some chicks and get some alcohol in me." The man walks off, purposely tripping over his feet, but not falling.
I glare at him, watching him as he leaves the bar. Mike meets my eyes for a moment and he nods at the front doors. Nodding back, I go after the faking drunk, wanting to know exactly what he was up to. I walk out of the bar, informing Ben that I'd be back, and follow this mysterious man quietly. He half jogs across the parking lot and to his car, but he doesn't get into the driver's seat. Eyes narrowed, I hop around the parking lot and settle into a low crouch when I'm completely hidden in the darkness. I keep my eyes on the car the man got into. He's talking to someone in the driver's seat, but their voices are low. I focus and listen in on their conversation.
"Get anything?"
"No. The guy says he's the source, but I don't buy it."
"Why are you so convinced about this place?"
"I just know it, man."
"Just let it go. The boss won't like you doing this."
"He'll like it when I bring down a huge drug ring. I'm also pretty sure those girls are prostitutes."
"They're strippers. They get paid to show off their bodies. They aren't prostitutes."
"There are private rooms in there. Someone has to be using them."
"It's not illegal, man. You're never going to catch that place on prostitution. All the owner has to say is that the dudes are paying for the rooms, not the girls."
"Yeah, you're right. But I know the owner is selling drugs. I just know it."
"You're going to lose your job if you're wrong. You know that, right?"
