[one]

Lillianah's POV

A red spot came crashing down on my sleeve and I silently cursed to myself before running a hand through my hair. I looked down at my palm and saw red all over it. I wiped the sweat off my forehead with my clean sleeve, only to find that sleeve now covered in red as well. "Can someone get me a fucking towel?" I yelled to the few people dancing behind me. A few moments later a towel was thrown over my shoulder. I stepped away and wiped off my face, then rubbed my hair dry with the towel. I couldn't do anything about it at that point, I had to keep working. I just had to remind myself to never dye my hair before I have to work again. It was getting to the point of the night where everyone on the dance floor was trashed and I was able to play music that only drunk people would dance to, like Britney Spears. I channeled Miss Spears when I would get dressed to come to work. I'd take a nice long look at myself in the mirror and ask, 'Would Britney wear this?' Barely there tops, super low, skin tight jeans and the fiercest boots in all of Pittsburgh. I was suppose to look hot, but I felt slutty. It was in the job requirements, what can I say, sex sells.

My attention was drawn to the dance floor and an evil smile came over my face. Just like every other night they show up, I play the same song. "Crash and Burn Girl" by Robyn, because really that's what happens to every girl on that dance floor when those boys show up. One of them waved to me, just like he does every night, and he always laughs when he hears the song. I swear he looks too young to be in here, but that's not my job, my job is to supply the music. He's taller than his friends, blond hair and a strong jaw line. I know they are hockey players, but that's about all I know. Pittsburgh Penguins I believe is the team they play for. Hell, I don't know, I'm not into sports. There are six of them that come in after every game, and the one with the eyelashes always has his girlfriend attached at his hip.

Just from watching, I know a little bit about these guys. There's the ring leader, maybe not the best looking one of the group, but he's definitely a looker. Always has an abnormally big smile plastered on his face, it just seems too big for his head. He was usually the only one who took a girl home every night he was here. The young looking one, the blond, usually looked uncomfortable when he was here. Seemed like a very nice kid, this just wasn't his scene, or he didn't know how to talk to girls. There was the one who looked miserable, barely smiled, only stood there watching girls walk by him. He would be a good looking fella if he cut his hair and maybe smiled every once and awhile. He stayed close to another player who did actually smile. He was the cute one in my eyes. He had curly hair and unusual facial features, which is probably the reason I thought he was the cutest. The tip of his nose came up a little bit, and his eyes were close together, he wasn't your normal ten, but to me he was. That left two guys, the one with the girlfriend who I only referred to as 'eyelashes', because I could see them from where I was, and was very jealous of them. Then the tall, dark and handsome one. I figured he was European, he looked it. Rarely talked, actually, didn't talk at all. Drank vodka and would check his watch about every thirty minutes. He looked like he wanted to have fun, he just didn't know how.

I chugged on some water before taking a shot of tequila, it felt like it was going to be one of those nights. A night where I felt like I accomplished my job by getting everyone in the club that night laid. Everyone except for me, of course. The hockey players dragged a few girls up to the VIP lounge with them and the miserable one seemed to lighten up when a blond, who was wearing a whole lot more clothing that I was, placed her hand on his thigh. I'd like to think I was the one bringing everyone together, with the right song selection at the right time. I loved my job, but there were some nights where I wish I was like that blond, with my hand on some guy's thigh.

Some people would say I look like Kat Von D with Katy Perry's style. I never disagreed with them, but I also never agreed. I like to think I have my own style, but it is very similar to the two women. I have a few tattoos, my whole right shoulder is covered, the side of my neck behind my left ear is covered, I have wings on my back and then I have a tattoo on my right foot that's not finished, and I keep wimping out to get it finished. My hair is jet black with bright red highlights throughout, which might not be red anymore the way I was sweating. A majority of my clothes were vintage, the only acceptions were my work clothes, which were your basic club clothes. Thinking about my style put me in the mood and I knew the drunk girls would start kissing their girlfriends if they heard Katy Perry singing about it, and the men would be very thankful for that.

"Do you take requests?" the ring leader shouted over to me. "Depends on what it is." "Make Love In This Club!" "I'd love to, but I'm working," I winked at him as I pulled the song up. I mixed it in with the Katy Perry song with expertise and the crowd went nuts. I turned around to see what the girl this ring leader wrangled up looked like, but to my surprise he was still standing there watching me. "What's your name?" "Right now, I'm DJ Raine, in about a hour I'll be Lillianah." "I'm Max," that smile was back on his face and he offered me his hand. I shook his hand and was instantly confused. Club closes in forty minutes, he needs to find a chick now if he doesn't want to go home alone. "What do you do after work?" "I go to bed, just like normal people do." I hope he's not trying to pick me up tonight. I don't fall for that kind of crap. I know how this guy works, I see it every night. He can't fool me. "What are you drinking?" He's not going to give up is he? I held up my bottle of tequila and smiled at him. I poured myself a shot, downed it and turned around to see he had retreated back to the lounge.

I brought the night to a halt with my favorite song at the moment, "Welcome to Heartbreak" by Kanye West. I could only imagine that's what happens when these people take each other home. They hook up, they exchange numbers, the guy leaves her in the dust and the girl is heartbroken. Not all the time though, there usually is the occasional girl that's just looking for a hook up, nothing else, and power to her for that. As far as I go, no boyfriend, I don't need one. I have my dog and one of those 'friends with benefits'. Couldn't ask for anything more. My 'friend' happens to be my next door neighbor, Aaron. He works late hours just like I do, and we have a knocking system if either of us are in the mood for some extra curricular activity. One knock is asking if you want to, two knocks is I will be right over and three knocks is 'no thanks'. It was simple and easy, with only a wall separating our beds we didn't have to go very far. He was like me, no girlfriend, didn't need one. Some might see me as being slutty for my 'habits' but it was all in good fun, and we're always very careful. I think the two of us would be perfect for some psychological evaluation for fear of commitment.

The lights were turned on and I began packing up my things. I saw a shiny pair of black dress shoes to my right and looked up to see the ring leader. I stood up and smiled at him half-heartedly. He handed me a piece of paper, I looked down and saw what resembled a phone number. "I'd like to take you out sometime, in a more intimate atmosphere, call me sometime," he grinned before walking away. Guys like him don't hand out phone numbers like this. Guys like him collect phone numbers, brag about them, but never call them. I laughed to myself and shoved his number into my back pocket.

I walked my four blocks home and walked into the building at the same time as Aaron. "How was your night?" he asked as we climbed the steps. "Same as usual, nothing exciting. How was the restaurant?" "Eh, same shit different day." We continued to climb in silence and headed into our apartments. Twenty minutes later there was a knock on the wall. I sat on my bed and thought about it. Was I in the mood? Was I feeling lonely? What the hell, I knocked back twice and headed out the door.

Max's POV

The hot water running down the back of my neck was only reminding me that I was getting old. Sure I'm only 24, but after a game like tonight I felt like I was 84. "Nice goal Talbot." I snapped out of my trance and looked up to see Staalsy take the stall next to me. "Thanks, you coming out with us tonight? Flower, TK, Tanger and Geno are coming with me to Diesel." "Yeah I will come, I need to find me a nice lady," he laughed. "Nice lady? You want a nice lady you go to church. You go to Diesel for the dirty girls." He still had a lot to learn, luckily he had me as a teammate to teach him the ways. I dried off and got dressed at my locker. I was the best dressed center in the whole league, I knew tonight would be my night.

"Is tonight the night Talbot? Are you finally going to talk to her?" Flower asked laughing and I could only glare at him. "Yeah, you haven't taken a girl home yet this season, you're really holding out for her. What the hell is that about?" My glare went from Flower to Tanger. "I've taken girls home, it's not hard for me to find a girl. I'm still trying to figure this girl out. She's different." She's a ten, that's what she is. "Tonight you night." I couldn't help but laugh a bit. "Thanks Geno, ready to roll?" We all left the arena and made our way down to Diesel.

VIP treatment everytime we walk through the doors. Drinks in our hands, the VIP lounge cleared out, we were true celebrities. I looked up and she was drying her hair off with a towel, she flung her hair back and put her headphones back on. She was looking hot as usual. A long sleeve white top, that ended right below her breasts, skin tight jeans and knee high leather boots. Staalsy waved to her and I wanted to hit him. He looked like such a teenager. That poppy dance tune came on over the speakers and it sounded so damn familiar. I hated the song, some 'crash and burn' bullshit. Wait, does she play that everytime we show up? Maybe that's why it sounds so familiar. Does she not like us here? I shrugged my shoulders, downed my drink and headed up to the VIP lounge. I sat down on the couch and my eyes never left her. I could see a drop of sweat rolling down her spine and I had to control myself from jumping up and licking it off of her. "Damnit Talbot, if you don't go talk to her, I will!" TK yelled at me with his arm wrapped around some trampy blond. I took a shot of vodka, got up and walked over.

"Do you take requests?" Oh wow, that has to be the lamest opening line ever. "Depends on what it is." I shouted the first song that came to mind, "Make Love In This Club." "I'd love to, but I'm working." Hook, line and sinker. I didn't think that would work, but I stood there like an idiot, instead of making a move, just smiling like Staalsy and she was ignoring me. "What's your name?" Lillianah. I like it. Sexy name for an even sexier girl. I continued to stand there looking like an idiot. "What do you do after work?" "I go to bed, just like normal people do." Oh this girl is going to be hard to break. Okay, next question, "what are you drinking?" She starred at me for a moment, smiled and then pulled out a half empty bottle of tequila. She poured a shot right there and downed it. My perfect girl, and I'm chickening out. Before she could finished her shot I ran back off to the lounge.

A shot of vodka was placed in front of me and I felt a very strong arm wrap around my shoulders. "That look tough." I could only nod my head as I looked up to see Geno holding up his shot glass to me. I picked mine up, we clinked glasses and downed our shots. I wanted to get to know this girl, really bad. The fact that she's shutting me out is making me want to get in there even more. Above all, the one thing that is really pushing me is the fact that she keeps looking over here, but her eyes land on TK and not me. "Your really taken by her aren't you?" I looked up at Staalsy who was now looking at her as well. "She might just be the female version of me," I laughed and the lights in the club went on.

Was she going to call me? Probably not, that's what I would do if a chick gave me her number the way I gave her my number. I know the way she works, I work the same way. How do you break the rules you wrote? Well it was an accomplishment for me, even if I have nothing to show for it. She made me feel like a twelve year old, and I hated that. She was that witch that turned people into stone. I'm capable of talking to any girl in the world, but her, she scares the crap out of me. Here I am heading home, once again alone.