Attachment Theory - Bucky BarnesxOC

Part 1: honey, don't feed it

LAS VEGAS, NEVADA - August, 2014

It's nearly midnight. The music is pounding, drinks are flowing, and conversation buzzes in every corner of the club. The men at the foot of the stage are gobsmacked - like they've never seen a pair of tits before in their lives. Maybe some of them haven't, judging by the way they're screaming - but then again, bachelor parties are always rowdy. Security keeps a watchful eye on them.

The place smells like perfume, hairspray, and spilled liquor, but after you've been here a while, you stop noticing it. It just becomes part of the fabric of Empire, along with the occasional bar fight and the cigarette smoke wafting in from the alley.

The first night she sees him, she's walking back into the dressing room to look for her cigarettes. He's sitting alone, in the dark, just a few feet from the bar.

It's the reflection of one of the fluorescent lights bouncing off of the glass that catches her eye and illuminates his face as he lifts it to his plump lips. The eye contact between them is brief, but the icy blue intensity of his gaze stops her; stops everything. She's like a moth to a flame - throat dry, palms clammy, tunnel vision. Just like those old harlequin novels she used to read late at night tucked beneath her blankets when she was supposed to wake up early to go to her ballet recital.

Her breath is caught in her chest and her heart jumps until she remembers how to suck air back into her lungs again. And then her work persona takes hold and a barrage of thoughts come flooding into her brain.

Stop staring so much!

You got this. Be professional.

Maybe you can make a few hundred bucks off this guy...

He is cute, though.

She smiles at him. Warm, with teeth and fluttering eyelashes. He only smiles back with his eyes before someone taps her on the shoulder.

"Are you coming or not?!" Sapphire asks, jingling a pack of smokes in her hand. "What's the deal?"

Alice holds up one finger.

When she turns back around, he's gone.

She follows Sapphire out the back door and catches the pack of cigarettes just before they hit the ground.

"Who were you looking at?" Sapphire asks with a grin.

"Nobody," Alice mumbles, sparking her lighter. The bluest part of the flame resembles those piercing eyes that almost stopped her heart.

☽ ☾

Alice lights a cigarette and gets out of her car. Walking into the Vegas heat from her beautifully air-conditioned vehicle feels like walking into the world's shittiest sauna. The parking lot always smells like piss and stale beer.

She begins to sweat the second her skin touches humid air, feeling grimy despite just having a shower no more than two hours ago.

She has twenty minutes until she has to start getting ready for her shift. It's Friday night, so tips will be big.

Alice never imagined walking into one of the most popular strip clubs in Las Vegas at the age of 25 and auditioning to be a dancer. A friend mentioned it at brunch as a joke, but Alice took it seriously. She was a retired (not by choice) ballet dancer who needed work.

The manager didn't really care if she could dance. They just wanted a girl who was flirtatious, made eye contact, and wasn't completely off-rhythm. Still, Alice crafted an entire number for her first audition. The owner told her she looked too much like a ballerina, and to loosen up a little.