Youri hesitated for a moment, standing in front of Lux. The pulsing neon lights from the club's exterior flickered in the darkness, casting crimson and indigo waves that rippled to the rhythm of a heavy bass beat. Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside. The moment he entered, he was engulfed by the thick, electric air—a mix of perfume, alcohol, and static that buzzed with energy. The ceiling disappeared into a haze of smoke and holographic projections that flickered like ghosts in the haze.
The club itself was massive, a labyrinth of tall tables scattered across the space, all surrounding a podium at the center. VIP sections occupied the corners, each one furnished with glossy leather couches that gleamed under the lights. They were filled with a mix of men and women, lounging comfortably, their conversations drowned out by the booming music. The couches faced each other, with a small table in between.
Youri made his way through the crowded area, sidestepping the various tables and navigating his way through the chaos. Just as he was about to move further, a hand grabbed his arm and yanked him forward. A woman, seemingly in her mid-twenties, with platinum blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, pulled him toward her table. She was dressed in a tight, black leather dress that shimmered under the neon lights.
"Come here, cutie," she purred, flashing him a sultry smile. "Let's have some fun."
Caught off guard, Youri blinked in confusion. He was still processing what just happened when the woman pulled him in between her and three other girls. The air around them was thick with laughter and the smell of expensive perfume.
The blonde woman leaned in, her fingers lightly grazing his arm as she nudged him closer. "Let's party!" she called out to her friends.
One of the girls sitting to Youri's left suddenly grabbed him by the head and pulled it toward her chest. She looked a little older—probably in her late twenties—and had long brown hair, deep black eyes, and a tight gray dress that accentuated her curves. Her large breasts pushed against him, causing Youri to jerk back in surprise, flustered and unsure how to react.
The other two girls, one in a bright yellow dress and the other in a simple black one, giggled at his reaction. The girl on the right, with black hair and green eyes, looked just about his age. They were all laughing when suddenly, a voice cut through the noise.
A hand rested on the shoulder of the blonde girl sitting on the far right, and she turned to see a man standing there, smiling confidently. His slicked-back hair gleamed under the neon lights, and his glasses seemed almost out of place in the dark club.
"Hey, beautiful," he said, his voice smooth. "Why don't you and your friend come enjoy yourselves at our VIP table?"
The man wore a white shirt, the collar slightly unbuttoned to reveal a gold chain hanging from his neck. He was well-dressed, but his mincing face gave off an air of arrogance. The blonde girl's smile widened.
"Hell yeah, lead the way!" she said, grabbing her friends and following him toward the VIP area.
They passed through the crowd and made their way to a secluded section of the club where three other men sat on a leather couch. One of them, an older man in his late fifties, sat at the center. He wore a white suit and glasses, his bald head gleaming in the neon glow. The two men beside him looked almost identical, both with slicked-back hair and gas-station glasses. One was dressed in a red suit, and the other wore a floral shirt and white pants.
The girls sat down with them, but as they settled into the VIP area, the man in the white suit, noticed Youri lingering behind. His gaze was sharp.
Youri was dragged by the girl with brown hair all the way to them.
"Who's the guy in the back?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
The man who had brought the girls turned and saw Youri. He frowned, a bit annoyed, and approached him.
"Who told you to come here?" he shouted, his voice angry.
Youri raised his hands in a gesture of apology. "Sorry, man. I'll leave."
"You'd better," the man snapped, pulling a sharp knife from his pocket.
Before the situation escalated, a voice rang out from behind him.
"Edward, put that away!" Gloria's voice was commanding, cutting through the tension. She stormed over, her eyes blazing. "If you cause any more trouble, you'll be banned from Lux. For good."
She glared at the man, who reluctantly pocketed the knife.
Then, turning to the man in the white suit, she shouted, "You know the drill, Malkom. Keep your dogs on a leash, or I'll be forced to put them down."
Malkom raised his glasses to the top of his head, his expression more amused than threatened. "Come on, Gloria, cut them some slack. You know how they are."
Gloria didn't even look back as she grabbed Youri by the arm and led him away. "This is a place for partying, not a slaughterhouse," she muttered, guiding him deeper into the VIP section.
When they reached a more secluded table, she dropped into a chair and shot him a stern look. "For someone who just walked into my club, you sure know how to stir up trouble with Malkom."
Youri was still processing everything, confused and rattled. Gloria's shout had caught him off guard. Then, Barnaby's words echoed in his mind: Look for Malkom.
"Wait—that was Malkom?" Youri asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Gloria's eyes widened. "You know him?"
Youri scratched the back of his head, still flustered. "I was supposed to meet him if I wanted a job."
She narrowed her eyes, then a slow frown spread across her face. "So, you're a goon now?"
"No!" Youri quickly protested. "I was told I needed to talk to him for a job. I swear, I'm not... whatever you think I am."
Gloria leaned back, her expression softening just a little. "Listen, if you want money and status, sure—go for it. But trust me when I say, guys like Malkom? They're the reason this place is the way it is." She studied him for a moment, then added, "You need to make your choice wisely."
Youri exhaled sharply, his shoulders sinking in frustration. "I get it... I guess I'll have to find something better. A real job."
Gloria's gaze lingered on him for a moment, then a slight smirk appeared on her face. "Actually, I have a proposal for you."
Youri raised an eyebrow, surprised. "What kind of proposal?"
She leaned forward, her voice low but confident. "You don't give off the vibe of a musclehead, but I get the feeling you've got guts. How about you work for me? Take care of the trash around here—Malkom's kind, Edward's kind—people who cause trouble. You get rid of them. Just throw them out into the street."
Youri stared at her, still processing the offer, but this time, his mind was clearer. Maybe this wasn't the worst deal after all.