Chasing Empty Spaces

Chapter 1

"Harry!" The doorman greeted when they made it to the front of the club.

"Paulie!" Harry crowed back before shaking the man's hand.

He was obscenely muscular and Harry heard from someone that he had been working the front of the club for the past decade. Somewhere along the way of Harry showing up every week, they had kindled a bit of a friendship. Well, they knew each other's names and Harry counted that as a personal victory.

"Just Paul, Harry," The burly man rolled his eyes. "And who is this lovely?"

"Oh, right," Harry muttered, temporarily forgetting Faye's existence. He jutted his thumb towards her, "This is Faye." Faye smiled and opened her mouth to respond, but Harry was in a rush so he cut her off, "Anyways, best be gettin' in and help set up."

Paul nodded and gestured for them to go inside. Harry had only taken a few steps inside the club before Faye wrapped her hands around his bicep, her fingers digging into the material of his suit jacket. Internally combusting with something just short of disdain, Harry continued to lead them inside.

The inside of the club was impressive to say the least. A long bar lined the far left wall, assorted liquors and draft beers ready to be consumed by paying customers. Circular tables with crimson tablecloths framed the expansive dancefloor. The bandstand was showcased at the back of the club, beaming lights directly shimmering over the extravagant stage. An array of instruments shined brilliantly and Harry's fingers twitched as his eyes roamed across a sleek onyx piano. Thick red curtains draped along the side of the stage and behind them were the performer's dressing rooms.

Harry led Faye to the bar and raised his hand to get the bartender's attention. "Alright, just tell him to put any drink you want on my tab," Harry told Faye as he tried to delicately pull his arm from her grasp. "I need to go back there and get ready."

"Oh, you can't stay for a bit?" She whined with an exaggerated pout of her bottom lip.

He tugged his arm away and uncomfortably shoved his hands in his pockets, "Afraid not."

"Alright, well," Faye lamely shrugged. She swiftly rocked forward and pecked Harry on the cheek, pulling away to murmur, "Find me after."

Irritation fumed inside Harry's bloodstream when he touched his cheek and pulled his hand away to see red lipstick on his fingertips. Not bothering to verbally respond, Harry curtly nodded and made a quick beeline to the men's bathroom. He started to wipe off the waxy substance with the back of his hand as he pushed his way through a swinging wooden door. Stepping in front of a mirror, Harry groaned as he saw red streaks smudged over his left cheek.

He rolled his eyes and gruffly muttered, "Shit."

"Whoa there, Stud. Don't want the missus to find out?"

The man to Harry's right was looking at him with amusement while he washed his hands in the sink. He stood a few inches shorter than Harry and was probably the only man in the club not dressed in a suit. In addition to a red bandana wrapped around his neck, he wore a white long-sleeved cotton shirt. The top three buttons were undone and his sleeves were rolled up towards his elbows. A pair of well-worn suspenders held up his dress pants and on his feet were scuffed black shoes.

"Not even close," Harry laughed as he turned back to the mirror and continued to rub the irritated skin. "Got set up on a date and she's a bit, um, different."

"Don't think she'll like it much if you scrub all that off," The other man leisurely shrugged.

As the lipstick continued to spread over his skin, Harry whined, "Seeing as how I'm supposed to be on stage soon, that's the least of my worries."