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Rouge, Part III of ?
By Sailor Europa (Ciel Envoye)
"Serenity?"
"Hm?" Came a muddled reply, hampered by clothes she was ruffling through.
"Am I to assume that you are aware of the gift you received?"
"Yes, Madam."
"I take it you pleased our guest quite well." Her tongue clucked in response, and
the blonde temptress bristled. She hated that sound.
"I don't think he sent me flowers for being inhospitable." Came her tart reply. The
pause from the other end told Serenity of her employers displeasure. She pretended to be
engrossed with getting dressed for work, and didn't make a move to face her.
"Then you won't be surprised that a Mamoru returned this afternoon and inquired
as to your whereabouts."
It was her swift mind that allowed Serenity the chance to compose herself, hidden
from her elders wandering eyes, that kept her white face from being seen. She closed her
eyes silently, still bending over her closet floor, and steadied her breathing.
"Really?" She replied progressively. Much more confident than she felt.
"Yes. I told him you wouldn't be on the clock until this evening." Even from her
blocked vantage point, Serenity could tell she was smiling smugly. "I got the distinct
impression he would be returning on account of your presence."
"Repeat customers are nice." Her voice was small, and through weary lips she
prayed Madam Isabelle wouldn't be able to tell.
"I'll see you downstairs, sweetie."
The door closed softly, and the blonde climbed out awkwardly from the closet,
hindquarters first. She collapsed onto the deep burgundy carpet, and racked her fingers
through its plush surface, tears threatening to spill.
"Oh God." She whispered.
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"You're awfully distracted tonight, baby."
"Hm?"
"You don't seem too on the ball."
"I'm sorry. I don't know where my mind is."
Serenity absently swirled her whiskey around, listening to the soft, crisp clink the
ice made in the glass. She had made it a general rule not to drink on the job; too many
opportunities to break the rules, she had found, when she was liquored up. But she was
finding it hard to concentrate this evening. Madam wasn't the most honest soul; could she
have been purposely trying to mess with her concentration?
Her eyes were glued to the door, and she knew, subconsciously, that to all non-
staff members, she must appear horribly naïve to this game. It had always been a part of
their entertainers etiquette; anxiety does not pay well. And while most of the new girls
that started on the pay roll made this mistake, it was uncommon for a seasoned escort.
You learned quickly what brought in customers and what didn't. And being unsociable
was a definite taboo.
"Are you all right? You haven't had a offer all night." Annemie cooed from
behind. Serenity's spine tingled with disgust. She hadn't bonded with any of the others
she worked with, it was true, but she had found a specific distaste for the older woman.
Madam had attributed it to the contrasting personas they each portrayed. Perhaps
Annemie had seen her as competition, but Serenity had never felt threatened by her
counterpart.
She had been a favorite in the club, and most of the girls stayed out of her way.
She was the oldest out of them all, which was not a common site. Most clientele were
graying and wrinkled, and had spouses that mirrored their appearance, and so they came
looking for the opposite. They wanted svelte, stick straight hair, and a smooth
complexion, unscathed by years. And Annemie did not fit that description.
Her hair was wavy and hung far past her hips, which, in itself was surprising.
Madame liked it to stay shoulder length, or above. She'd said it looked like the whore's
mane from the cheaper houses. Serenity didn't know for sure, but she took her word for
it. But Annemie had gotten away with it. She was also taller, far lengthier than most,
standing a good 6 inches above the others, Serenity included, and again, the matter of
height was something their employer constantly harped on.
But no one asked why. She was an intimidating presence, and had a personality
all her own. She drew many repeat clients, but unlike a few other workers in the club,
refused to share her tricks. While she was quick to point out what a girl was doing wrong,
she would silence herself before uttering a word of assistance.
"I'm fine. Thanks." She tried to manage a genuine smile, directed at the older
woman, but found it lacking. Her emerald eyes bore down on her, and she couldn't shake
the feeling a fly has just as its snared in a spiders web. She blinked, and excused herself
from the group, seeking solace in one far end of the bar.
"Serenity."
She turned around, thrusting one of her blonde pigtails behind her on the stool
where she now sat, and looked at Madam as she approached. Out of the corner of her eye
she could see Annemie now coddling a younger man who had entered, leading him
towards the stairs without a word. She involuntarily shuddered.
"Yes?"
"You've had a request."
Her first of the night, she mused silently.
"I've put him in room 2." Madame gave her a sly smile, as if the events that took
place here were a closely guarded secret, and pressed a room key into her palm.
Serenity left her untouched drink on the counter and slid off the stool expertly,
smoothing out her black slip dress as she did. She passed a few others on her crossing,
and ignored the snide comments that wafted into her ear. Were they so venomous
because she had been more popular? Or was it because she too had found a way around
many of the rules placed on the girls regarding their appearance? They never said an
unkind word to her face, but she would have to be deaf and stupid if she didn't pay
attention to the gossip she heard.
Her back loosened a bit, the muscles relaxing as she was out of range from the
others. She tried not to pay attention to them; they had no reason to be bitter. But that was
a small comfort now. In the long run, it was just easier to isolate herself. She didn't come
here to make friends; she came because the money was good, and she was able to support
herself amply. She needed no other reason.
Banishing the thoughts from her consciousness, she inhaled sharply and inserted
the key into the lock without hesitation. After such long months in this business, it was
hard to find any pleasure in any aspect surrounding her. However, call it an odd quirk,
but Serenity got an odd thrill knowing someone asked specifically for her. She received
no particular joy when completing her tasks, but being told you were doing something
right was always an ego-boost.
"Good evening." She cooed, as seductively as possible, as she closed the door
behind her.
"Serenity."
She felt her blood run cold. She hadn't heard this voice often, outside of her
frequent nightmares. The blood drained from her face and she blanched. Madam had told
her that he had already been by early in the day for her; why was the site of Mamoru
standing before her so surprising?
"Wha…" Her throat immediately clenched at the very prospect of speaking, but
she swallowed hard and tried once more. "What are you doing here?"
Mamoru didn't answer. It never occurred to her that he might not know himself.
She stood stalk still, her back pressed flat against the oak door she had just shut for
privacy's sake. Neither one moved for moments on end, each waiting for the other to
make the first move. A deadlock seemed to be in place, both participants not knowing
what to expect from the other.
"What do you want from me?" Came a frightened plea, and Serenity wasn't even
sure if it had come from her to begin with. But as soon as his face softened into
sympathy, she knew she'd let her vulnerability show once more. Tears cascaded down
her cheeks and she choked on angry, troubled sobs that she knew would spell problems if
any of the other workers overheard. Her sex-kitten act dropped now like a rock, she
curled her arms around herself in defense, so afraid of what this man was seeing as he
looked at her. What in the hell had he come back to do? This was misery he was putting
her through and she couldn't imagine the kind of thrill he must get from coming back.
"What do you WANT?!" She screamed, clenching her teeth to keep the sound
from escaping. Her make-up was running and Mamoru couldn't help but begin to crack a
bit. He honestly didn't know what had possessed him to come back. It had been almost
48 hours since he had last retreated from this same residence, disgusted and terrified at
what he had found here. The act as a whole repulsed him with himself the more and more
he thought about it; but he knew that the very things that caused him to rush so swiftly
away were the things that caused him to come back.
Without thinking he gathered her up in his arms and held her gently. He knew
instinctively that the source of her tears wasn't just him, although he may have been the
immediate cause. This amount of bitterness and anger and cynicism was built from years
of pent up frustration. It didn't take a genius to realize that a 16 year old girl selling her
body for money had a lot more problems that just an age-deficiency.
But Mamoru guessed the real mystery about this surreal scenario he was acting
out was why he felt the need to do anything about it. Like Andrew had said, he couldn't
have been the first to notice. And yet, he was obviously the only one to date who had
cornered her with the inquiry. Even more, he had found his interest in the young woman
piqued. Not exactly sexually, although he wouldn't be human if he didn't feel the residual
effects of their short, intense encounter a few nights before. But no; this was compassion
and a genuine desire to help the girl. How, he didn't know. He was only a college student
himself, after all. He couldn't really offer her a better life, or even a train ticket out of
town. But his longing to care for her, in some way, had been too strong to quell.
Mamoru didn't know when, but eventually her back and limbs loosened
considerably and she now was leaning tiredly into his embrace. Her cries for relief,
however, refused to subside. He inhaled and rubbed her back in a fatherly manner,
wishing just to bring some sort of comfort into her obviously jarring life. He knew that if
the others back at the Home knew the kind of money he had just shelled out for an hour
of absolutely nothing, he'd never hear the end of it. But aside from his misgivings about
more potential ribbing, he knew that he needed to be here and he felt no need to leave
until he had used up every last minute he'd paid for.
The shuddering blonde had begun to give in to her bodies plea's for reassurance
and reprieve and gradually found herself breathing in the very peace this man offered to
her. Nothing made sense in her mind; moments before she would have bet money that
Mamoru was back only to get what he didn't get the previous evening. And yet, now, she
was practically snuggled warmly into his husky chest, inhaling his scent and finding it
enormously soothing. It had to be a dream, she rationed.
After almost 15 minutes of standing so stonily together, she pulled away and
wiped roughly at her swollen, turbulent eyes and sniffled. It reminded Mamoru too much
of a little girl afraid of the dark; he shivered, disturbed.
"I don't understand this…." She mumbled, closing her eyes tightly as she tipped
her head downwards. She could hear her counterpart sigh in exasperation.
"God, I don't either. I really don't know what the hell I'm doing here…."
Mamoru trailed off, taking a step back, for safety's sake. He ran a hand through his hair
and found it slightly damp with perspiration. Undoubtedly from his jagged nerves.
"I just had this picture of you…." He shook his head, and Serenity could see him
visualizing the imaging. "I didn't like it. And I liked the idea that I'd caused it even less."
"So you came back to ease your own conscience?" She bit out, her old gumption
returning at his last remark. He cringed visibly, hurt by her insinuation, but collected
himself automatically.
"Can you blame me? I've never purchased sex before, and the one time I do I
leave the girl in tears!" He barked, the tension from the past 36 hours being released
through his words. Within seconds he regretted every syllable and his shoulders sagged in
defeat again. He was trying to be a good guy here; why was this going so wrong?
Tears sprung to her eyes again, and Mamoru could see her reach for the door knob
behind her, but he hurriedly grabbed her arms in a vice grip that immobilized her. He was
insistent and determined to get his foot from his mouth while he still had the chance.
"What are you doing here?" She asked quietly, once more. Only, this time the
overwhelming emotion riding her voice was confusion. Mamoru should have known
she'd be untrusting; and he certainly wasn't doing much to ebb her doubt.
"I… I don't know." He admitted honestly. She didn't seem too much more at ease
with the explanation. "I've felt ill at ease since that night, and I can't shake the feeling
that…" He groped for the right words, still holding her tightly before him. "That you
don't belong here."
"Well, how the hell would you know?" She practically snorted in distaste. But
Mamoru stared coldly into her eyes and knew he had struck a cord. It was as if she had
been waiting for someone to tell her what she's suspected all along.
"No 16 year old girl should have to sell herself into this business." He
backtracked. "No woman, in fact, should have to. No one deserves this." He leaned in
closer to her face until she could feel the breathe from his nostrils tickle her cheeks.
"Especially you."
Her face scrunched up and she bit on the side of her cheek. She no longer had the
urge to flee, but now she just felt hollow and empty. No one had ever told her anything
like that; no one had even remotely likened her life to anything worthwhile. She had
settled because she believed she could do no better. She'd always believed that. This man
was the only one who couldn't see how worthless she was.
"You're too young to be in this business, Serenity. Too young to be subjected to
something so impure, on such a regular basis." Mamoru said intently, looking down at his
watch, sighing. "But I don't have the money to buy up all your time."
"I think my hour's up. I'm sure you're anxious to get back to work." Mamoru
snarled out bitterly. Serenity just stared, aghast, at him as he gathered his leather jacket
up off the floor beneath him. It had been a full 60 minutes and they hadn't even moved
ten feet from the door, she marveled. She watched silently and moved from his path as he
strolled back to the door to leave without uttering another word. Her brow was knit with
worry and confusion and self-pity as she clutched her fists in front of her chest tightly,
not knowing what to say, if anything. This had, without a doubt, been the oddest hour in
her whole career at Wallen. She didn't know what to make of it.
She was so caught up in her own mess of thoughts that she squeaked in shock as
he pulled her back into his arms and clutched her tightly, possessively, just like the night
before and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. Her chest seemed to cave in at her
inability to breathe and she couldn't respond in any fashion, but Mamoru seemed to
understand. He released her from his grip and opened the door swiftly, glancing back, not
pity, but compassion and tenderness clouding his gaze this time.
"Goodnight, Serenity."
*****
The moon hid itself from view as Mamoru walked himself back to the youth
hostel just a few moments later. As the familiar street streamed into his consciousness, he
was vaguely aware of the fact that he would need an excuse as to his whereabouts. His
roommates certainly wouldn't let him off the hook easily; it was past 11PM, already. He
squinted absently, relatively sure that none would even consider his returning to the club
an option. He exhaled in relief. At least he would be spared another round of intense
questioning tonight.
With a sudden burst of ingenuity, he did an about face and headed in the opposite
direction, towards a small, 24 hour market. He'd go in, buy some milk or soda or chips
and then explain that he'd had the munchies and ducked out to buy a snack. He dug into
his pants pocket and retrieved a few bills; just enough for some greasy potato chips. He
grinned, not realizing before how famished he was. He's practically fasted the whole day
out of anxiety. He hadn't known what to do this afternoon, but as soon as he made up his
mind to visit Serenity again, he'd wasted no time. He had been there within the hour.
After he'd entered the fluorescent-lit grocery and picked out his purchases he
waited behind a staunch, short Dutch woman paying for three cartons of cigarettes.
Mamoru couldn't help but notice that from her bloodshot eyes and yellow teeth, she
didn't look like the little funnels of nicotine would do her any good. Not to mention she
had one hanging from her chapped lips already and a pack opened in her hand. Mamoru
shook his head; vices were horrible, life-wrecking things. He was verily glad he didn't
have a one.
He paid and continued his walk back to the hostel, newly opened bag of chips in
hand. He'd practically inhaled the contents by the time he turned the knob to enter, but
jumped back as it swung towards him and Andrew stood on the other end, looking just as
surprised as Mamoru.
"Woah! Hello!" The blonde chuckled, slapping the startled Mamoru on the back
and thrusting him inside the building. The bright lighting scheme hit his cobalt eyes hard
and he squinted after being under the evening sky for so long. "Thought we heard
someone coming…."
"What are you doing here, Andrew?" Mamoru asked casually, tossing his now
empty bag into the garbage and popping the top on his liter of soda. "Slumming?" He
asked sarcastically after taking a long swig. His friend smirked and crossed his arms.
"Well, I gotta see how the other half lives…." He said with mock superiority and
then winked good naturedly. "Don't worry. The chauffer will be around soon to relieve
me from this squalor you guys are wallowing in…."
"It's only a squalor when you're here, Andy." Mamoru ribbed. Andrew chuckled
and flopped back onto the over-stuffed, worn in sofa near the corner of the room. Several
of Mamoru's other flat-mates lounged around the room, a few acknowledging Mamoru's
presence, a few more ignored him pointedly. It seemed that the handsome Asian man was
a thorn in some sides.
"Touché." Mamoru perched himself on the armrest of the sofa besides his blonde
friend and finished off his drink and absently played with the hallow container. "What
brings you back so late, anyway?"
"Just hacking around, I guess." Mamoru shrugged, staring at the wall ahead of
him with a vacant interest. "Nothing special."
"Weren't picking up anymore of the lovely ladies from the Wall then, eh?"
Andrew joked, chuckling. Mamoru snapped instantly, his neck twisting painfully in an
involuntary reaction. He shot him the vilest look he could manage, causing Andrew to
choke on his giggle. He coughed a second later and backtracked. "Just kidding, man." He
hedged, and Mamoru simply stared incredulously. He hated to think that Andrew, the one
person he'd felt akin to on this journey into testosterone-gone-awry, was turning into
"one of them".
"You better be…" Mamoru growled and Andrew could tell from his tone that he
had hit the nail on the head. He straightened up and leaned into his now brooding friend
so that no one could eavesdrop.
"You did, didn't you?" He asked lowly. Mamoru's eye brow twitched, angry at
his lightening quick temper; It always seemed to give him away at the most inopportune
moments. Andrew took his silence as an affirmative and prodded some more. "Did you
go see that same girl?"
"Look, I'm not going to talk about this now." Mamoru replied, as coolly as he
could manage, not bothering to look at his friend for even a moment. He knew his eyes
would give away all the emotions that had coursed through his veins that night. He had to
sort through them, by himself, before he could even think of discussing them with
someone else. He had to decide what his level of commitment was with this girl; and he
knew he wouldn't be able to be rational until he figured that out. "And especially not
here." His gaze soured as he watched the rowdy figures around him drink and cuss and
smoke and make obscene gestures, seemingly oblivious to anyone else around them.
Mamoru was incredibly offended; he couldn't believe he belonged to this gender.
"All right, it's your prerogative." Andrew replied, leaning back into the cushions
of the puke-green sofa. "Just know that if you need a sounding board, I'm here." He said,
and Mamoru nodded. He'd felt a bit closer to Andrew, at least in comparison to any of
the other guys he saw on a regular basis. But he still hesitated at letting him in on what he
was planning; maybe because even he didn't know what the hell would come of it. Or
even what his motives were, for that matter.
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FEEEEEEEEDBACK! Don't make me beg.....
slr_europa@yahoo.com
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AIM :: SeeShelliRun
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