Working Boy [Revamped]

Chills

A huge pang of nausea washed over him. Just what was this club? And what the hell did he get himself into by being here?

Creak!

His honey eyes widen as he hears the door open. Oh god, they both caught him listening in! Out came the 'intruder' as Chase labeled him in his head.

"Ch-Chase?" Boss stammers, surprised.

"Hola stranger!" the other smiles at him, jovial. The man with Boss appeared to be a tall Latino with shoulder-length brown hair. He was wearing a black and red three-piece suit with a matching trilby hat. From his silver necklace hung a gaudy, Baphomet piece while his fingers were adorned with multiple large silver rings, each with its own piece.

He got chills looking into his eyes.

"Aw, he seems scared," he sighs at his companion before turning his attention back to Chase, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure you're worried about ol 'Boss' here, but I assure you everything is fine," he gives it a light squeeze. "Run along now with the others, you have a big night ahead of you," he says this with a hint of condescension.

His eyes hover from the latino to Boss, searching for an answer.

"Go," Boss mouths to him.

His eyes narrow at the other, peeling the other's hand off his shoulder and turning to go to the Dancer's Room without another word.

"Hi Mamba!" Ken greets him as he clocks in.

Chase couldn't bring himself to even talk to the other dancers. He just felt so dirty. Dancing for this sleazeball's entertainment was not in his repertoire but yet... he felt he had to.

"I'm guessing you met him," the redhead observes.

"Huh?" his eyes widened.

"Yup, I can tell. He's uh... not a great guy if you hadn't noticed already," he went on. "I wish you came in here first so we could warn you but...," he trails off.

From what he gathered from the conversation in the office, this isn't his first time coming into the club.

"It's fine," he finally responds. "I'm gonna go get changed for tonight," he forces a smile before grabbing his clothes and changing behind a clothing rack.

"Chase."

He turns to face a very concerned Zayn leaning against the rack.

"You okay?" he asks quietly.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Wassup?"

"Hey do you uh... you wanna clock out for the day and I cover for you?"

"Of course not," he responds, albeit weakly. "Zayn, why are you asking this?"

"It's just... nevermind," he forces a smile of his own. "Just, steer clear of him okay? Once he has his eyes on you, he'll never leave you alone. I would know."

"I see," he falters. "Thank you for the warning. I'll definitely take it into consideration."

Zayn nods curtly before heading off to do his own thing. There was a vast different energy from him than usual. His cool demeanor now gave off an aura of fear. It almost felt as if Chase should be asking him these questions.

The performances began. The crowd that was still here was loving every minute of them but there was a different energy with all the dancers. That same joy and luster they had for dancing was lost that day. He was a creep but did he really wield that much authority, power, and fear within them? Soon enough it was Chase's turn to go. He still felt nauseated from earlier, but he was willing to psyche himself out of it enough for a two-minute dance. His song chosen: Alone With You by Ashlee.