Jamie frowned at the twig in his hand. He had whittled it down to a mere sliver, making it useless as entertainment. Okay, so it hadn't really been entertainment to begin with, but it had been something to do with his nervous hands. He checked the time on his barely servicable flip phone for what felt like the hundredth time. It was 1 AM, meaning the club would close in the next hour and this spot would also be useless to him.
He'd been listening to the music from inside the club for three hours already, or rather he'd been listening to the bass beat of the music. An entire drum line had taken up the cadence in his head, and the red glow from the neon sign above him that read "Lacey's" was not helping.
Okay, so it read "La ey's" at the moment, but he was sure the owner couldn't be careless enough to let the bulbs sit dark forever... right?
Jamie pocketed his phone, sighed, and settled himself against the dingy brick wall at his back. Oh, he was sure the red light illuminating him made for an appealing sight, and it helpfully disguised how faded and threadbare his clothes were. By the time a potential client noticed, they would have already made the not-quite-legal decision to hire him; old clothing wasn't going to change their mind at that point unless he got some really snooty client... which probably wasn't going to happen in this part of town.
That was, if he got a client at all tonight. His stomach was churning, and not simply because he was hungry. Rent was due in three days and he was two hundred short. He didn't even want to think of the rest of the bills right now. If he made rent, he could deal with the electricity problem later.
Jamie was yanked out of his thoughts when someone came stumbling out of the club - a man slightly into his thirties and all the way in the bag. Inwardly, Jamie groaned, but outwardly, he put on his best seductive little grin and motioned toward the man to get his attention. The response was horribly slow. "Hey there. Looking for something to top off your night?"
The man put a hand on the hood of a nearby car to steady himself. "You go'ny weed?"
Jamie's inner voice grew louder. Women standing outside of seedy bars were prostitutes, but men were apparently drug dealers. What a dumb thing to cry sexism about, but still! "No weed, I'm afraid, but I could still give you a good time." He "absently" put the tip of his picking between his lips to try and drive the point home.
The guy stared at him blankly, then shrugged. "Naw, I don' touch the other shtuff." And with that, he wandered off, leaving Jamie to wonder exactly where he was going and how he would get there.
Well, it wasn't his problem. He had enough of those already. He reached up to brush his bangs out of his eyes and stare off into space, waiting and hoping...
He'd been listening to the music from inside the club for three hours already, or rather he'd been listening to the bass beat of the music. An entire drum line had taken up the cadence in his head, and the red glow from the neon sign above him that read "Lacey's" was not helping.
Okay, so it read "La ey's" at the moment, but he was sure the owner couldn't be careless enough to let the bulbs sit dark forever... right?
Jamie pocketed his phone, sighed, and settled himself against the dingy brick wall at his back. Oh, he was sure the red light illuminating him made for an appealing sight, and it helpfully disguised how faded and threadbare his clothes were. By the time a potential client noticed, they would have already made the not-quite-legal decision to hire him; old clothing wasn't going to change their mind at that point unless he got some really snooty client... which probably wasn't going to happen in this part of town.
That was, if he got a client at all tonight. His stomach was churning, and not simply because he was hungry. Rent was due in three days and he was two hundred short. He didn't even want to think of the rest of the bills right now. If he made rent, he could deal with the electricity problem later.
Jamie was yanked out of his thoughts when someone came stumbling out of the club - a man slightly into his thirties and all the way in the bag. Inwardly, Jamie groaned, but outwardly, he put on his best seductive little grin and motioned toward the man to get his attention. The response was horribly slow. "Hey there. Looking for something to top off your night?"
The man put a hand on the hood of a nearby car to steady himself. "You go'ny weed?"
Jamie's inner voice grew louder. Women standing outside of seedy bars were prostitutes, but men were apparently drug dealers. What a dumb thing to cry sexism about, but still! "No weed, I'm afraid, but I could still give you a good time." He "absently" put the tip of his picking between his lips to try and drive the point home.
The guy stared at him blankly, then shrugged. "Naw, I don' touch the other shtuff." And with that, he wandered off, leaving Jamie to wonder exactly where he was going and how he would get there.
Well, it wasn't his problem. He had enough of those already. He reached up to brush his bangs out of his eyes and stare off into space, waiting and hoping...