Chapter 3

Micheal makes it home and then back to the club. What's going on with him now?

Michael made it home and climbed the steps to his apartment.  He hardly ever used the elevator. He didn't see a reason to, since there was only two floors.  He used the key in the lock and walked in, blasted by cold air.  He chuckled to himself, remembering he had left the air conditioner on.  He took his shoes off as he walked in, throwing them into a small box near the door.  Stretched, he turned and locked the door behind him, threw his keys on a shelf and headed for the fridge.  He grabbed a can of some cheap knock off soda and headed for the shower, trying to figure out what had happened earlier this day.  

As hard as he tried, nothing really seemed to add up.  Finding the club, seeing that it was hidden under a grimy road, the big man Bruce looking more like a watch dog than a bouncer, none of it made sense.  Try as he might, he could not even begin to formulate a sensible equation.  He undressed, throwing his clothes on the floor as he made his way through his apartment.  He figured he could just clean it up later.  He wanted a shower something fierce.  He could still smell the people from the theater, the woman from earlier whom he had bumped into, and Sarah.  It made no sense.  Smells didn't just stick not normal smells anyway, so this made no sense to him. 

Michael got into the shower, running hot water, as hot as he could stand.  The mirror fogged up with condensation and he tried to scrub away the afternoon.  He closed his eyes, letting the hot steam fill the room, covering him.  Water ran down his body, dripping from his hair, racing to get to the drain and freedom much like his mind was racing to make sense of the day.  He had given up on the previous night.  The thoughts continued to elude him so he had given up and tried to concentrate on present events.  Finally, the water ran cold and he grabbed a towel, shook out his hair and stepped out into the cold air.  He shivered, scolding himself for not turning down the air.  He slowly dried and made his way through the apartment, trying to think what in the world he had to wear.  He pulled on some boxers and fell back onto the bed, sleep soon taking him over.

A few short hours later, Michael rolled over and looked around.  He stretched, feeling like he had just lain down.  He looked at the clock, slightly confused.  It read seven thirty in the afternoon.  He had gotten back, showered and taken a nap almost four hours later.  That didn’t seem like he had been asleep that long.  He had figured taking a fifteen minute nap, not a long one.  He sighed, getting up and headed to make a cup of dark tea.  It was too late in the afternoon for him to enjoy a good cup of coffee.  While the water heated up, he shuffled through the living room and back into his bedroom, rummaging through the large closet.  

He snorted, realizing he was pretty dull.  He finally pulled out a pair of jeans, pulled those on and heard the kettle screaming at him.  He bolted for the kitchen, dropping a tea bag and German sugar in a small mug and headed back to the closet.  He found a shirt, a slightly older one.  He chuckled, knowing he had never even worn it.  An ex had purchased it for him.  It simply said, “I Bark, I Bite,” and on the back had a tail printed onto it.  He pulled on a leather jacket, brown leather.  He loved the jacket, the leather being well used, well polished.  He chuckled again; slipping on some high tops, pulled his jeans over them and went to enjoy his tea.  He tossed the bag away, pulled out some crackers and used the time he sat enjoying his small luxury, thinking about what could happen soon.

That’s when it hit him.  He had been supposed to be back at the club at seven thirty.  It was almost eight now.  He left the cup and plate on the table, grabbed his keys and bolted out of the apartment, down the stairs.  He felt a cold chill sneaking up his spine, for reasons he couldn’t understand.  He had no idea why being late could possibly bother him.  He almost jogged…almost to the club.  

He saw the door he had entered the first time there, and panted, hands on his knees.  He snorted, and then headed around the corner, still trying to find the true entrance.  It was eight fifteen and he had a feeling he would not be in good graces for being late if he were to be a V.I.P.  He walked around the block, not seeing anything but that single old door.  It confused him.  He closed his eyes, wind blustering around him in the dark night air.  He put his hands in his jacket pocket and went exploring.  After another block, he looked around, still seeing nothing.  Just broken down buildings seemed to be all that was around, so he tried the next block.  This time he was rewarded with bright lights in his face, the street very well illuminated.  A massive neon sign flashed bright blue and purple, “Come see the sunrise, twice!”  He frowned, thinking that made no sense, but headed for the door, seeing a long line.  He wasn’t going to make it, he was already beyond late.  It was nearing nine and he joined the line, women and men, ranging from the ages of about eighteen to what seemed about thirty, talked, chattered, laughing and waiting.  He got a good look at a lot of young thighs and smirked.  This seemed like it was going to be a very interesting night.  

He followed the long line, looking around.  Three massive men stood near the door, checking ids, flirting, laughing and letting some people through, others it seemed were being turned away.  Most of the ones leaving seemed to have been on the younger scale.   After about what felt like forever, but was really about half an hour, a voice was heard, complaining.  Michael stood on his tip toes and saw pinked tipped hair, moving around, pulling some people out of the line and pushing them through the doors.  He sighed, seeing Sarah.  Somehow the smaller woman was actually out ranking the larger men, which was funny if nothing else.  Soon, her amber eyes turned and saw him and she stomped towards him, his eyes going up and down her oddly dressed body.  

Sarah soon found him, standing in front of him, looking pissed.  “You’re late!” she snapped, standing in really tall stilettos, which seemed to disappear into her skirt.  “Get movin…come on,” she replied, arms crossed in front of her chest.  She had a dark black and purple mini skirt, with tulle odds and ends sticking out.  She walked around him, and then grabbed his hand.  “Come on, it’s a lot more fun inside.” She laughed, pulling him out of the line.  He stumbled, getting a good look at her upper half, which seemed to be stuffed inside a corset.  He nervously brushed his hands through his hair and followed her, feeling more than just a little under dressed. “The fun will be starting soon.  Come on.” She continued pulling him.  Her hair was pulled into pig tails that bounced when she walked, her heels being heard clacking on the concrete under them.  Michael allowed himself to be pulled behind her, looking at the upset crowd around him.  

Soon, his eyes fought to adjust in the light.  It was dark inside, at least compared to the glaring neon outside.  Music blasted at him from all around, and it was what sounded like more than one kind of music mixing together in the main room.  Sarah soon stopped, and grinned, opening her arms.  “Michael.  Welcome to the Second Sunrise.” She had a massive grin the soon disappeared into the crowd, leaving him alone on a stair like dais.

Author's Note

this is just a rough draft