The staircase spiraled upwards, more than a single floor, eventually leading Kev to a small landing overlooking the grand entrance of the mansion. Through a set of ornate glass doors, he could see the front courtyard bathed in the afternoon sunlight. Off to the side was the edge of the customer parking lot, and the main entrance road cut a straight and narrow path though the surrounding trees. Kev would have never guessed that just beyond the canopy was a futuristic city straight out of a cyber punk novel.
He turned away from the window and headed back to his apartment. It was time for lunch, and he was determined to make the most of the remaining daylight hours before the club's transformation.
Back in his kitchen, Kev assembled a simple but satisfying meal, his culinary skills improving with each attempt. He settled at the table, a book propped open beside him, and enjoyed his lunch in the quiet solitude of his apartment.
As he finished eating, he reached for his cigarette case, the smooth silver a comforting weight in his hand. He lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply, the smoke curling lazily towards the ceiling.
Kev glanced at his new watch, its silver face gleaming in the afternoon light. It was still early, probably another four or five hours until Horns returned. He decided to make the most of the time by tidying up his apartment. As he cleared away the remnants of his lunch, he noticed the trash bin was nearly overflowing. A pang of annoyance struck him - he'd forgotten to ask Cindy about trash collection. He added it to his growing mental list of questions.
The afternoon heat was stifling, even within the confines of the club. The cool evening breezes that had graced the previous nights were nowhere to be found, replaced by a stagnant warmth that clung to Kev's skin. He imagined the dance floor, packed with sweaty bodies and fueled by the heat of a thousand desires. There must be quite a few customers who overheat and pass out.
Longing for a respite from the stuffy interior, Kev decided to take another walk around the grounds. He ventured out the front door this time, stepping onto the wide, circular driveway that usually bustled with arriving and departing guests. Now, in the harsh light of day, it lay deserted, save for a few diligent cleaners tending to the meticulously manicured lawns and flowerbeds.
The silence was a stark contrast to the club's usual cacophony, the only sounds the chirping of birds and the ghost of a hum of traffic from the city beyond, and the rhythmic swish of the cleaners' brooms and sheers. Kev took a deep breath, savoring the fresh air and the feeling of the sun on his face.
Kev meandered along the mansion's perimeter, his eyes tracing the elegant lines of its architecture. He marveled at the sheer size of the building, realizing he had only explored a fraction of its countless rooms and hidden passageways. It was like a sprawling castle plucked from the French countryside, its weathered stone facade and ornate detailing whispering tales of a bygone era. A sense of wonder filled him as he imagined the lives that had unfolded within these walls, the secrets they held, the stories they could tell.
His musings were interrupted by the rumble of a delivery truck rounding the corner of the mansion. Kev watched with curiosity as the vehicle pulled up to a side entrance, its sliding rear door opening to reveal a glimpse of crates and boxes stacked neatly inside. He wondered what supplies were being delivered, what hidden treasures were about to be unveiled.
Intrigued, Kev strolled towards the truck, his footsteps crunching on the gravel road that led around the side of the mansion. A cleaner, an odd looking mammal woman, perhaps a ground hog, perched precariously on a ladder while washing the windows, spotted him and called out, her voice echoing in the crisp morning air. "Hey, you!" she shouted, his tone friendly but firm. "Don't wander too far! The boss wouldn't be happy if you got lost."
Kev felt a pang of frustration. He appreciated the concern, but the surveillance was starting to wear on him. He longed for a sense of freedom, a chance to explore this new world without feeling like he was being watched at every turn. Still, he knew it wasn't the cleaner's fault. She was just following orders, trying to keep Kev safe.
"Thanks for the heads up," Kev called back, plastering a smile on his face. "What's the delivery for, do you know?"
The cleaner paused, her brow furrowing in thought. "Not for us cleaners," she replied after a moment. "Beyond that, I have no idea."
"I'm going to go check it out," Kev announced, a sense of adventure stirring within him.
The cleaner shook her head, a worried expression on her face. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," she advised. "Best to stay out of the way and let the delivery guys do their job."
Kev shrugged. "Thanks for the advice," he said, "but I'm curious."
With a final wave, he continued towards the delivery truck, leaving the cleaner to resume her window-washing duties.
Rounding the corner, Kev found himself facing a large delivery bay, its wide doors thrown open to accommodate the truck. He recognized the area; it was the rear side of the concert hall, behind the stage, near where Asmodeus's dressing room was located. Kev could almost hear the colorful toucan-man pounding away at the piano.
A small group of workers bustled around the truck, unloading crates and boxes with practiced efficiency. Amidst the activity, Kev spotted a familiar figure: Lanon, the manager of personal relations, was engaged in a conversation with the delivery drivers.
Kev was surprised to see Lanon at the club at this hour. He'd assumed the iguana man's duties were primarily nocturnal, catering to the desires of the club's clientele under the cover of darkness. His presence here, in the harsh light of day, suggested a different side to his role, one that Kev hadn't yet encountered.
Lanon, his conversation with the driver concluded, turned to head back inside when his sharp eyes spotted Kev standing near the delivery bay. The iguana-man was wearing another sensual outfit, bright blue pants that matched a long blue jacket that was open, showing off his smooth blue-and-green scales. Kev, feeling a bit like a child caught snooping, offered an awkward wave.
Lanon's lips curled into a knowing smile as he approached Kev, his movements relaxed and casual. "Well, hello there, Kev," he purred, his voice a low, seductive rumble. He glanced back at the truck, then returned his gaze to Kev, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
"What brings you out here at this hour?" he inquired, his tone light but laced with a subtle curiosity. "Shouldn't you be upstairs, readying yourself for Fang?"
"Just trying to explore a bit," Kev replied, his voice a touch defensive. "Learn the layout of the place."
"You should be exploring the inside of the place," Lanon suggested, his eyes gleaming with a predatory glint. "I hear you had quite an exciting night. Dragged around and confined by a city enforcer." His tail twitched with amusement. "What did you think of the experience?"
Kev's cheeks flushed, a strange mix of shame and anxiety flooding him. "It was awful," he quickly said, his voice sharp. "I wasn't even sure if they were real enforcers."
Lanon smiled, revealing a set of sharp, reptilian teeth. "Did the ambiguity make it… exciting?" he purred, his gaze lingering on Kev's face.
"I'd rather not go through that again," Kev said firmly, his voice laced with a hint of defiance.
Lanon shrugged, his tail flicking. "Ah, not one for the spontaneous, then," he observed, a hint of disappointment in his voice.
Kev raised an eyebrow, a puzzled expression on his face. "Are we talking about the same thing?" he asked, his tone incredulous.
"Of course," Lanon purred, a sly grin spreading across his face. He turned and began walking back towards the main entrance, giving a small gesture for Kev to follow. "I'll let Fang know you're not a fan of restraints."
Kev followed, a sense of unease settling in his stomach. He realized, with a growing sense of discomfort, that Lanon's questions had a double meaning, a subtle probing of his boundaries and preferences.
He cleared his throat, trying to steer the conversation back to safer territory. "Have there ever been any issues with your workers getting arrested?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.
Lanon chuckled, his tail flicking playfully. "Of course not," he replied, a hint of arrogance in his tone. "This is Club Fang. We have our ways of... handling things."
Kev pressed on, his curiosity outweighing his discomfort. "Do you think those enforcers just used my smoking as an excuse to... grab me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Lanon's grin widened, revealing a row of sharp teeth. "You are a very grabbable little thing," he purred, his gaze lingering on Kev's form.
"I'm serious, Lanon," Kev insisted, his voice firm.
Lanon's smile faded, replaced by a more thoughtful expression. "I heard the enforcer brought a badge in," he said, his tone contemplative. "He definitely came with an agenda..." He paused, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "I didn't even know the city made plastic cop badges that could sneak past our metal detectors."
"I appreciate the information, Lanon," Kev said, his voice sincere. The iguana-man's insights, though delivered with suggestive undertones, were valuable nonetheless. It seemed that the incident with the enforcers was more than just a random act of harassment. There was a deeper agenda at play, one that Kev was determined to uncover.
Lanon nodded, his smile returning. "Same here, Kev, I'm always fascinated to learn what makes my coworkers tick." He paused, his gaze lingering on Kev's face. "So, why are you here and not with Mr. Fang?" he inquired, his voice a low purr.
Kev shrugged. "I'm still figuring that out," he admitted. "Fang doesn't want me staying up all night."
Lanon chuckled, his tail flicking playfully. "Ah, yes, the boss's nocturnal tendencies," he said, a knowing glint in his eyes. "They can be quite challenging, can't they?"
Sighing Kev nods, "He's so overworked… I know his job is demanding…"
"My job is very demanding too, Kev," Lanon confided. "Especially with these new developments with the VIP clients. I'll be quite invested in the meeting tonight. When Horns mentioned it I knew it must have been your idea."
"If I remember correctly," Kev said, trying to recall the conversation from the previous night, "you're in favor of having a day off per week, right?"
Lanon nodded, his smile widening. "Indeed," he replied, his voice a smooth purr. "My workers are professionals, Kev. A day a week to groom themselves, visit the local clinic, or simply relax and recharge will only make my department more valuable to the club."
Lanon, with a graceful flourish, walked Kev back up the large stone steps to the mansion's grand entrance. As they reached the front door, he paused, his gaze lingering on Kev. "Be careful out there, little human," he said, his voice a low, seductive purr. "The boss would be devastated if his... pet were to be accosted again."
Kev bristled." "I'm not his pet," he retorted, his voice firm.
Lanon chuckled, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "My apologies," he said, bowing his head slightly. "I meant no offense." He took Kev's hand and brought it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on his knuckles. "I shall see you at the meeting later, darling. Be good."
With a final wink, Lanon turned and headed back towards the delivery truck, his movements fluid and graceful.
Kev watched him go, a mix of confusion and annoyance swirling within him. Lanon's suggestive comments and patronizing tone had left a sour taste in his mouth. He felt like a child being coddled and protected, not a capable adult who could handle himself. First the cleaner, now Lanon - everyone seemed to be treating him like a fragile doll.
He sighed, shaking his head in frustration. He needed to prove to them, and to himself, that he wasn't some helpless creature in need of constant supervision. He was Fang's… assistant, not his pet, and he was determined to earn their respect.