Mundane tasks and routine for club...

Glimmer walked down the hallway, the VIP section quiet except for her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway away from the rows of rooms made for sexual bliss. The encounter remained attached to her shadow, an unusual kinship with someone she didn’t like.

Glimmer only had a few seconds to herself this time when she left the VIP Room, or whatever it was, and tried to calm herself further, grasping at straws to settle the aftermath of her experience with Alexander. Mr. Blank's change of pace was unexpected but needed nonetheless. She was thankful that nothing sexual happened, relieved even.

However, it was announced that she was needed elsewhere. The mundane cleaning schedule returns as the festivals end. The maid service that came as an escort here was… strange. Glimmer couldn’t call it degrading because she was already used for sex. She couldn’t call it a luxurious aspect of the job because she was cleaning, a dual purpose slut to cover the expenses of hiring a separate person. The dancers-- whores-- entertainers or whatever term Glimmer felt like calling herself with her colleagues were also maids during the slower time periods.

She cleaned the toilets in the restrooms, the showers in the staff rooms, the sheets in the Pleasure Cubes (VIP Room, if you prefer), and the glasses, plates, bowls, forks, spoons, knives, and pots from the kitchens. The alternative to this was being a crier or greeter in the streets for Pink Heat, but somehow, that responsibility was almost passed to some other poor soul to be stared at and leered at.

These more straightforward tasks did not provide Glimmer with the distraction she so desired away from David or even Alexander’s shadow, especially when she dusted, wiped down, and cleaned the switches to the same room she attended his appointment. She reached the same room where she had met David, identical to the one she had with Alexander. The memories, however, couldn't have been further apart.

Glimmer sprayed an air freshener in Alexander’s room, hoping to dissipate the negative energy still lingering inside. The smell of flowers seemed like they had been rotting in the bottom of an organics bin to her, even as the sprinkle faded and dried before reaching the tile and carpet of the room.

When she performed the same action in David’s room, the smell lingered and embodied her memories of David. She smiled when she remembered his voice inside and how he looked while she stared back at him as he admitted his virginity to her and worried about not being able to please her… How little that meant to her when she embraced love, however.

She left that room, dreadfully aware of how much David was on her mind again despite his smudged facial features, which were no longer as perfect as they had been after their first and only night together. She wondered about Paul and how he was progressing with his promise. She hoped—better yet, she wanted to hear what she longed for.

She cleaned the rooms again, this time robotically playing maid until the following clients arrived. Her new “John Doe” accompanied a small fraction of her mind as she immediately replaced every thought with her lost love. The free-floating thoughts guided her feet to the security section, passing guards with vague faces as they chatted, making remarks about the other girls. She heard the whispered gossip of preferring “blondes” over the artificial colors of her blue hair or the other girls' candy red.

The hallway leading to the camera and server rooms was empty but laid out like a maze, leading to different closets and interiors Glimmer wasn’t familiar with. However, it wasn’t until she tried to open a locked door that she wondered why she was here to start with.

She looked at her finger, still tugging on a metal, barely budging handle. “What am I doing?” she whispered, looking up to see the words “armory” on a golden nameplate. Glimmer took two steps backward and looked down the hall. Paul… I need to know what he’s found out, she thought to herself.

… “It’s so quiet in here,” she thought, leaning against the wall opposite the door. “It’s so quiet…” There were no muffled noises from Neon Shroud. There was no music, chatter, or footsteps from the other girls or regular staff. It was just her breathing. Then, a door opened, and she stood up straight, returning to the world she was still occupying as an escort-maid in Pink Heat. Glimmer walked towards the noise, acting like she was leaving when she ran into Paul.

Paul stopped as suddenly as she did. “Glimmer?”

“Paul?”

“What are you doing here?” Paul said, alarmed to see someone not in uniform.

“I don’t know,” she half-lied, she'd wandered here without even thinking about it. “Did you find anything about David?”

“I haven’t even looked,” Paul said. “I was about to-.”

Glimmer snapped. “You haven’t even been looking? After all this time?”

Paul gave her a strange look of anger. It’s one she’d never seen on him before. “I can’t just drop everything and search for your love interest, Glim. I had a few jobs of my own.”

She wanted to whine but conceded. She was well aware that Paul had priorities, too. One of which she was not one. “I get it,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m just…”

His voice had softened considerably as he reached out and hugged her. The gesture was another rare one. He’d seen Paul hug many girls before, but this didn’t feel impersonal or a cold act of ****. She hugged him back and apologized again.

“Don’t be,” he told her. “I’m working on it, alright. I promise I’ll keep you updated. I promise I’ll give you what I know about David by the night's end before you leave. How’s that sound?”

She nodded, a little flustered by the hug. “Please don’t rush for my sake, Paul. This whole thing is silly. I need to grow up and get over David. I’m probably not going to see him again anyway.”

Paul shook his head. “Until I tell you otherwise, it’s more than reasonable for you to hold on to that hope.”

Glimmer struggled to find the right words. When she fails, she nods and says “thanks” while rubbing her arms. Paul patted her shoulder, reminding her that if any of the other guards found her back, they might not be so kind. The security details for Pink Heat had been known to be stricter and had a different set of rules to follow, often hiring men with crime backgrounds and ties to syndicates. There had been rumors that some guards used the servers for their own purposes-- gang, syndicate, or even corporate **** to keep records of the more “special” clients that would visit.

One girl once said management ignored these claims, so they didn’t have to pay the guards that much. A type of “Quid pro quo.”

“Hey, I’ll let you use my servers and occasionally check my clientele list as long as I pay you less and keep my main attraction safe!”

Glimmer started to hear the city's muffled noise outside and the people's chattering. She opened the door to leave the entire section and ran into some of the mentioned guards just beyond the doors. It’s Adam. He recognizes his skeleton-tattooed hand. He was tall, handsome, well exercised and lean. He narrowed his gaze; the pupils shifted as he scanned her with his augmented eyes.

“What are you doing in our section?”

“Bathroom,” she said. “It’s cleaner.”

He nodded slowly, not caring enough to delve deeper into her presence. Adam was in dark jeans and a T-shirt, a kitted carrier with a long rifle hanging from his. Adam was one of the club’s panic reaction forces for… whatever reasons. She and not many others dealt with the PRF; they kept to themselves.

Glimmer rallied with the other girls and chatted as she waited for the club to become busy and her final client to show up…