I don't have to wait long for the telltale sound of the door handle turning. But just as it begins to open, sending a beam of colored strobe light across the floor, there's a commotion. I don't move because clients are only my problem once they step through the door. Right now, they’re the escort’s problem, and I intend to keep it that way for as long as possible.
"I’m not taking no for an answer. Find a room for us. You know who I am," a male voice says, slightly whiny and juvenile, followed by a few snickers and laughs from whoever he’s with. It should be a sin for a voice to sound so musical even while indignant, but all Thur sound as perfect as they look. My posture falls slightly when the door pushes open, turning the room red with light. I hate it when they bring conflict inside; it's a bad sign for my tips.
"I'm sorry, but we're fully booked for tonight." That’s Jack's voice but rawer than it should be, wavering at the ends of the words. What’s wrong with him tonight? Since when does he escort Thur to their rooms? "You can't just enter any suite you like as these are already reserved. The only option remaining is to see if one of the bookings will share their room with you. Lunar is already booked by these males."
"We definitely won't be sharing. You should've booked in advance, princeling," another male voice says from further away. It sounds like he's closer to the stairs. That would mean the _princeling_ is the one holding my door handle, trying to steal this room. Dread settles in my gut because I don’t want to deal with a self-serving pretentious asshole tonight. From further away, I can hear the door to the gilded room slam, followed by the painted room. Their respective answers on whether or not they'll be sharing with this male.
"Come on, Fiers, don't take a piss. Lightflecks stick together," the original voice says softly, pleading as much as someone called princeling would allow themselves. Sounds like this male hoped just to barge his way in through reputation alone.
Sounds like every Unsettled Thur I’ve ever met.
"Fine, \*_fuck\*_, you’re lucky your mother is on the council, Styl " the other huffs irritably. Then, "If I'm sharing with him, though, we're not all going to fit in the lunar room, Jack. We'll take Velvet instead."
"N-no there's already—" Jack's pulse is in his throat. I can hear it in the wobble. But I don't get a chance to catch his reply as the door snicks closed once more. It's soundproofed here, so that's all I get. Already, my nerves are feeling frayed because room selection is a big deal here. If that group poached Velvet, then whoever has to take Lunar will be pissed. Pissed clients equal no tips, maybe even aggression.
Groaning, I run my hands over my arms to soothe away the goosebumps. Is it too late to bail? My night is so beyond fucked. Suddenly, an itchy flush spreads over my neck. I brace a clammy hand against the wall, trying to steady my legs.
I'm just about to slink over to a couch and catch my breath when the handle pushes open again, snapping me back into position near the wall. Through the crack between the hinges and the wood, I can see Jack’s face is tense and sweaty.
Does he feel as flushed as I do?
"Terribly sorry for the mix-up, b-but this room will do nicely, Mister—?” I’ve never heard Jack sound so rattled.
“His name is not your concern.” The voice is hard to distinguish, almost synthetic. I’ve never heard a Thur with a voice modification. Everything they prefer that isn’t decorative is augmentative—things to make them stronger, faster, and more durable.
“O-of course, sir, Devi, one of our most seasoned servers, is already inside. She’ll attend to any of your needs. A-and this room is completely private, as requested, sirs. Also, a-allow me the honor of covering the cost of your evening in light of this terrible mistake. Anything you gentlemales want, Devi will acquire.”
I hate when Jack lies. His nose distorts the sound of his voice, though judging from how little anyone remarks on it, I don't think many people notice. He's lied twice in that short answer. There was no mix-up, someone stole this male's room. Point blank. And none of these rooms are private, all streaming down to security where Jack keeps an eye on things.
He pushes the door wider, letting a new flood of neon blue light into the room. I watch it flicker through more colors, trying to tamp down my annoyance. He was going to give these males to Aisline specifically. Why? At first, I was sure it came down to money. Or that she literally sucked Jack into making the switch happen. But now, as Jack sings false praises, I can’t help thinking that it was to keep me away from Velvet tonight, and whoever these males are.
That’s never happened before, at least not to my knowledge.
I may be temporarily blinded by the brightness because I turned my eye imbed down, but I still notice when Jack doesn't take a step in. It’s a sign of respect that Jack normally disregards. Thur usually have so many modifications that make their senses heightened, so they don’t like too many scents in their space. Those who can only afford to roam the main stage just have to suck it up or take one of the nose blockers. But VIP rooms have only one booking per night and are deep cleaned with a neutralizer afterward. That’s why they’re premium.
"You're lying," a cold voice says, raising the hair on my arms. "Though the room doesn't matter to me as long as it's \*_private.\*_ Cameras off, Jack Starlet, or I'll lose my patience." That is not the voice of any Unsettled I’ve ever heard. It's not cocky enough, and it resonates low. That polished knife-edge of a voice is deeply out of place here.
_\*Settled.\*_ The word sinks like a weight in my gut. What if there are some in this group? No wonder Jack is so flustered. These are the real powerhouses, the ones that get shit done—that make all of our rules and ghost through society unseen. I hold my breath through Jack's tense reply and the feel of heavy auras entering the room.
“Of course, cameras will be completely off,” Jack assures the male with an edge that’s likely meant for me. An unsaid warning that I need to be on my best behavior and keep my mouth shut. I still can't see, light distorting my view of the parties involved.
"See that they are," the cold voice says again through the sound of the door pushing closed.