The waiter was a little bit confused as he bent down, leaning closer to where Carson was. He had heard what the man said but his mind couldn't fathom why such a man of the caliber that he seemed to be would be asking for the dancer's name. However, the waiter wasn't too fazed by the question because their star dancer always got that kind of attention from the people who visited Arcane.
"What did you say, sir?"
"I asked who the dancer was..." Carson responded, a little annoyed that the waiter wasn't as sharp as he looked.
"What's her name?" Carson finished.
"Oh..." the waiter said as he straightened himself again and stood upright. There was a smile on his face as he started his next statement.
"Her stage name is-"
"I'm not asking for her stage name..." Carson said as he cast a look at the waiter.
The waiter nodded. "Her name is Scarlet," he said as he turned his head to watch her being escorted out of the platform that she was in. The bouncers were there to protect her from overzealous fans and horny men who would often try to touch and grope her.
Hearing her name gave Carson some kind of fulfillment and a flicker of happiness passed through him. The next thought on his mind was how he would see her.
"I'll need a glass of your best scotch, please, "Carson said without looking at the waiter. His gaze was fixed on Scarlet as the security men took her away.
The waiter bowed a little and turned around to get what Carson had asked for.
When Carson stepped out of the place, he noticed what was next to the light-designed sign outside the building. They used the same lighting to form the shape of a woman's body. As he stared at that, realizing that he had walked into a club, Carson smiled and ruffled his black hair with his fingers.
"Well, I'd be damned..." he said. "who would have thought..." Carson imagined one of his wealthy friends seeing him outside this kind of club. However, deep within him, Carson couldn't be bothered.
He sat in his car and easily thought of that night as one of the best that he's had in a while. He was somewhat elated and that confused him also. Many emotions were soaring through Carson's body but above all, he was glad that he'd come to that place that night.
* * *
"A man was asking about you," the waiter said to Scarlet as he watched her take off the pixie-cut wig that she had worn, letting down her chestnut hair, and allowing it to cascade down her back. The waiter's breath hitched in his throat as he had long since had a huge crush on Scarlet. But on the other hand, who didn't?
Scarlet shook her head and raked it through with her fingers. Then she began counting the money that she had gathered from her act.
"Did you hear what I said, Scarlet?"
"I've told you not to call that name here..." she said.
"But why?" the waiter asked. "It's your na-"
"Don't call me Scarlet here," she said again, this time, with a death stare toward the waiter. "It's because we go to the same school, right? That's why you think you can call my real name here..."
The waiter glared at her, not understanding why she was hiding her real name from her place of work. It didn't make any sense to him. He shrugged. Just as he was about to turn around and leave her as it seemed like she was in a sour mood, he heard her ask a question and a smile came on his face. Any opportunity to have a chat with Scarlet was very much welcome by him.
"Who was asking about me?" she asked almost absentmindedly.
"It was his first time here..." the waiter replied.
"That's why then..." she replied and dropped a portion of the cash on the table, then she stood up and carried her backpack. Her work for the night was over.
"You're leaving?" the waiter asked as he sidestepped, giving Scarlet space to walk out of the changing room.
"No... I'm staying..." she replied sarcastically. "Can't you see my bed on the floor?" she rolled her eyes and walked out.
"See you tomorrow night," the waiter called out but knew he would not get any response.
Scarlet walked down the road where she was going to grab a taxi. She was used to the environment and clutched her backpack tightly to herself even though her cash was somewhere inside her cloth. She had learned the hard way not to put her money in her bag as they had stolen much of that and left her stranded. Scarlet was street-smart even though she didn't look it.
Her features were soft and there was a grace about her -- there was something about how she carried herself. The curves of her body made heads turn where ever she went and Scarlet was used to the attention that came with it. It was nothing to her.
Her dark skin glowed -- it was as if it was always well moisturized. She took good care of herself and it showed clearly.
Her mind went through what had happened that night. The dance, the money, the attention, and lastly, what the waiter in the workplace told her afterward. But it wasn't the first time that Scarlet was hearing that someone was asking about her.
'Men,' she thought as she flagged a taxi down.
Scarlet got into the taxi and told the driver where he was going to take her. The ride was quiet and she appreciated that. Some taxi drivers would want to start up a conversation or ask her stupid questions. She was relieved that this one was reasonable and not long after she entered, she fell into a shallow sleep, knowing that she had a good thirty minutes before she would get to her house.